“Safe house. Katarina’s here. She turned herself in. We had a local agent bring her here.” TL opened his door. “Let’s go.”

  We helped TL cover the car with bushy tree branches and then followed him inside.

  Katarina sat in the corner of the shadowed shack, handcuffed to a pipe coming from the floor. Still dressed in her black burglar suit, she glanced up and quickly looked away.

  What an awful girl.

  A short man handed TL a canvas bag, said something in Rissalan, and exited through a hidden panel in the floor.

  TL unwrapped the sword and laid it on the only table in the shack. He emptied the canvas bag, too. Chemicals, burners, stir sticks, and tubes fell out. All the things Beaker had said we’d need.

  I sat on the floor and cranked up the laptop, ready to decipher the last encrypted message.

  Wirenut and TL worked in silence. Mixing chemicals, heating them. Wirenut stuck a thermometer in the liquid, and they waited, watching the temperature.

  “One fifty.” He nodded.

  TL spread the smoking mixture on the sword’s handle. Three seconds ticked by. I placed my fingers on the laptop’s keys.

  He held a magnifying glass to the handle. “Five one two. Three spaces. One zero one two. Two spaces. One five one two. One space. Two zero…”

  TL continued reading off the number patterns, and I typed. One hundred sequences in all. A lot of data crammed onto the handle of a sword.

  I went to work. My fingers raced over the keypad. I wove in and out of security barriers, tunneled through safeguards, zoomed around blocked systems. I designated principles, specified components, wrapped codexes. I stranded screeds, followed copeperis, formatted algorithms.

  “Got it.” Clickclickclick. “The neurotoxin is on the other side of the world. It’s located on a sailboat in the Pacific five miles from Myralap Island.”

  “Great job, GiGi.” TL dialed his phone and gave the information to the government’s retrieval team he’d hired.

  I put down my laptop and stood, stretching my fatigued muscles. Another successful mission gone by.

  Clicking his phone off, TL turned to Katarina. “Who are you?”

  She didn’t look up. “Katarina Leosi.”

  “Why did you turn yourself in? Why did you disengage the mansion’s explosives?”

  Katarina’s shoulders slumped. Her patheticness didn’t faze me.

  “I thought my father was collecting rare art pieces. I didn’t know about Stan or the stolen neurotoxin or Papa’s deceit.”

  TL put his phone on the table. “Who, exactly, did you think your father was?”

  “A businessman. An art collector. A descendant of a long line of famous burglars. He was training me to follow in his footsteps.”

  “And you’re okay with being trained into a life of crime?”

  She closed her eyes. “It was his dying wish. I lost my real parents when I was a baby. He took me in. He’s the only father I’ve ever known.”

  “He wasn’t dying. He lied to you.”

  Long pause. “I know that now,” she murmured.

  I glanced across the shack at Wirenut. He stood with his back to us, staring out the dirty window. He and Katarina weren’t cousins after all. Interesting.

  So Zorba killed Wirenut’s family, moved to Rissala, and took in a baby girl? It didn’t make sense.

  I stepped forward. “Can I ask a question?”

  TL nodded.

  “Why did Zorba raise you?”

  Katarina finally looked up. Sorrow and bewilderment weighed heavy in her eyes. It softened my heart a little.

  “He told me my real father worked for him. He said he was responsible for my parents’ deaths.” She lifted a shoulder. “That’s all I know.”

  TL stepped up next to me. “Who did you think Stan was?”

  “Who he said he was, a guy here on vacation.”

  “And the Ghost?”

  “Another burglar after the same pieces we were. I copycatted him, trying to keep the trail off me. I had no idea Stan and the Ghost were one and the same.”

  TL crossed his arms over his chest. “And you considered poisoning him fair play?”

  “No! Of course not.” She looked over at Wirenut. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  He turned from the window. An unreadable expression blanked his face. “Then why poison me?”

  Katarina quietly sighed. “Papa told me the Ghost was selling the artifacts and funding terrorism.”

  “What about the last time I saw you? You said your father saw us in the marketplace? Zorba was there?”

  “He was. I had no idea. He saw us talking and got really mad. I’ve never seen him so angry. It scared me. But…what was I supposed to tell you? That I was a burglar?” Her voice cracked. “That I really like you?” She ducked her head, sniffed.

  Wirenut didn’t say anything in response, just stood staring at her.

  “And the messages?” I asked. “Didn’t you wonder about the paper hidden in the egg and the jewel?”

  “When I found the paper in the egg, I asked Papa about it. He said the paper meant nothing to the Ghost without the artifact. And then before I went in to get the crown, Papa told me there was a replica of the ruby from the crown I needed to leave behind. I didn’t ask any questions; I figured he knew what he was talking about.”

  Seemed to me Katarina was a manipulated pawn like the rest of us. Only more so. She’d been lied to her whole life.

  That is, if she’s actually telling the truth now.

  The shack’s door opened. An old, gray-haired woman appeared. Something about her seemed familiar. I studied her as she closed the door and crossed the short distance to where we stood.

  TL acknowledged her with a nod.

  “You’re the jewelry lady from the market,” I realized aloud. How funny. I’d had no idea.

  She winked at me and then leveled Katarina with a hard glare. “I’m Special Agent Pierson. You’re in my care now. Don’t underestimate me based on my age.”

  I was glad that lethal glare wasn’t aimed in my direction.

  “Let’s go.” TL grabbed his cell phone and headed from the stone shack.

  Wirenut and I followed. He didn’t take a last look at Katarina, but I did. She still sat with her head dropped, shoulders slumped.

  I felt sorry for her. How lost she must feel.

  After I helped the guys uncover the car, we climbed in and drove off.

  I rolled down my window. Cool morning air flowed in. “What’s going to happen to Katarina?”

  TL shifted gears. “If her story checks out, she’ll go free.”

  “Free where? She doesn’t have any family.”

  TL turned onto the coastal highway. “She’ll become part of the system.”

  Part of the system? That sucked. Not a lifestyle I’d wish on anybody. “And if her story doesn’t check out?”

  “She’ll be tried as an adult. Depending on what she’s involved in of Zorba’s, she could face the death penalty.”

  I blinked. The death penalty? Whoa.

  In the backseat, Wirenut lay down. He put his arm over his eyes and turned his head away. The sunlight brought out his facial bruises, where Zorba had punched him.

  I wanted so badly for Wirenut to be okay. I wanted to see him smile, hear his smart-aleck remarks, watch him do his victory shoulder-roll dance.

  “We got in a car accident,” TL informed us, “in case anyone asks.”

  [12]

  The next morning, we caught a flight back to America and unfortunately got grounded in Chicago because of bad weather. We got a hotel for the night and grabbed a plane to California early the next day. As we were pulling up to the ranch’s iron gate, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Home.

  TL slipped a remote from his jacket pocket and punched in his personal code. The gate slowly swept open, and we pulled through.

  It swung closed behind us as we made our way up the long driveway.

  Off to the left Bruiser bounced along on a riding mower, doing her afternoon chores. The machine dwarfed her tiny body, making her look like a little girl. She caught sight of us and enthusiastically waved. I waved back.

  Hard to believe we’d been gone only about a week. Seemed like a month at least.

  Beyond her in the corral, Parrot washed one of the thoroughbreds. Funny that a guy with horrible hay allergies loved horses so much.

  Beside the corral the barn sat wide open. Jonathan was inside, punching a hanging bag. I checked my watch. 4:00 P.M. It’d be time for PT in another thirty minutes. Wonder what kind of muscle-screaming torture he had in mind for everyone today?

  I squinted but didn’t see David. He usually warmed up with Jonathan before PT.

  TL circled around the driveway and parked in front of the sprawling, one-story ranch house.

  Mystic came around the side, garden tools in hand. He’d been tending his herb garden.

  I smiled, realizing I’d missed everyone.

  Beaker stepped out the front door, chomping gum, sporting a black-and-white-striped Mohawk.

  Okay, I’d missed almost everyone.

  TL opened the driver’s door and got out.

  Wirenut leaned up from the backseat. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t tell anybody about what happened. About me, Zorba, Katarina. Anything. I don’t want anybody to know.”

  I nodded. “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

  I didn’t bother reminding him that we weren’t allowed to speak of the details.

  We climbed from the car as TL popped the trunk. “You two are excused from PT. Get some rest.” He handed us each our oversized backpacks.

  Wirenut shouldered his. “I’ll be in my room.” He brushed past Beaker with barely a hello.

  She frowned. “What’s up with him?”

  Where’s my knuckle rub? I knew she was thinking. Wirenut always knuckle-rubbed Beaker’s head. And she loved it, even though she pretended not to.

  “He’s tired. That’s all.” I zipped up my windbreaker.

  “I’d still say hi to him,” Beaker grumbled, shuffling off, “even if I were tired.”

  Carting my pack through the door, I surreptitiously glanced around. I didn’t want David to catch me looking for him. I wanted to “accidentally” run into him.

  I peeked into the dining hall, a miniature version of a school cafeteria. Its aluminum table and chairs sat empty. Two hours from now the place would come alive with people eating, talking, laughing.

  I slipped across the hall into the common area. Empty, too. No one watching TV, shooting pool, or playing cards. Later this evening Parrot and Bruiser would definitely be here, continuing their ongoing air-hockey match.

  I passed by the mountainous mural that hid our elevator to the below-ground levels. Maybe David was down there with Chapling.

  Okay, game plan: drop my things in the girls’ room and then go to the computer lab where I’d “accidentally” run into David.

  Rolling my eyes, I strode down the hall to the girls’ room. David’s room sat two doors down on the left. From my vantage point the door stood open. What could be my reason for having to go down there?

  I lingered, studying his open door, coming up blank. There really was no reason for me to go down there. What would be my excuse?

  Except to say hi, of course.

  But I wanted him to find me. Not the other way around.

  Stupid. I know.

  And childish.

  But…here went nothing.

  I coughed.

  He didn’t come out.

  I sneezed.

  Nothing.

  I cleared my throat.

  Nada.

  “GiGi?”

  I jerked around. David. My stomach leap-frogged to my throat. If it weren’t for my lips being closed, it probably would have boinged right out of my mouth.

  I swallowed. “Hi.”

  Okay, that came across good. Calm. Casual. Not too excited. Not too nervous. It sounded I-missed-you-but-not-desperately. The tone was definitely I’m-my-own-woman.

  Mentally, I gave myself one firm, agreeable nod.

  His lips were moving. Crap. He was talking, and I missed it.

  David’s lips stopped moving.

  He waited.

  He wanted me to respond. Double crap.

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry, what’d you say?”

  David quirked a smile. “I said, what are you doing?”

  “Um…” I shrugged. “Getting home just.” I shook my head. “I mean, just getting home.”

  Inwardly, I sighed. Guess I’m not my own woman.

  His dark eyes dropped to my lips. “Heard you’re missing a tooth.”

  I gave a jerky nod.

  He took a step toward me, staring at my lips, and my heart revved to light speed. Please let my lips look good right now.

  “Can I see?”

  I blinked. “What…no!” Gross.

  He laughed. “Are you relaxed now?”

  I laughed, too. I couldn’t help it. He knew me too well.

  Taking my pack, he gave me a quick hug and a kiss on my head. “Missed you.”

  His cologne swirled into my senses, and I wanted to hold on longer. “I missed you, too.”

  David had no idea how much I’d missed him. It’d probably scare him if he knew. Like, my-girlfriend’s-freakishly-obsessed-with-me kind of scare.

  Then again I wasn’t his girlfriend. Not officially.

  Yet.

  He led the way into the girls’ room. “Did you get my little surprise?”

  The hidden lollipop. Thinking of you. “Yes.” I smiled. “Thank you so much. That was very sweet.”

  David put my stuff on the floor. “So did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  He sat down on my bed. “Think of me?”

  Only every second of every moment of every day. “Yes.”

  “A lot?”

  I laughed. “Yes. Sheesh, what do you want from me? Yes, I thought of you. A lot. Happy?”

  “I’m getting there.”

  I’m getting there. What did that mean?

  I put my hands on my hips. “Did you think of me?” I can’t believe I asked him that question.

  It felt good. Bold. Sexy of me.

  “Yeah.” He held out his hand. “Come ’ere.”

  My stomach cycloned as I crossed the room and took his hand.

  He tugged me down beside him, reached under my bed, and brought out—

  A lollipop bouquet! Full of dozens of suckers. Raspberry, cherry, watermelon, lemon, mango, passion fruit, apple, banana, and I don’t know how many more.

  “For you.” He put it in my lap.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

  He squeezed me tight. “You’re very welcome.”

  Someone rapped on the open door, and we pulled apart.

  Bruiser grinned. “I see you got your surprise.”

  David shot her a playful glare. “Your roommate’s a real pest. She’s been in my face all week long, like an annoying gnat.”

  Bruiser batted her lashes. “I’m really glad you’re back. Coming to PT?”

  “Definitely.” I put my lollipops on my nightstand. “Let me change.”

  David stood. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know. Never thought I’d actually say this, but I want to.”

  Bruiser and David gave me matching are-you-kidding-me looks.

  I laughed. “Really. I do.”

  Suddenly, David’s cell buzzed. At the same time, so did mine. We checked the displays.

  TL’s stat code.

  [13]

  David and I rushed off the elevator and to the conference room. We opened the door just as TL came out.

  “Have a seat. Chapling and I will be right in.”

  David and I sat on the right side of the table. Neither of us mumbled a sound as we waited.

  What’s going on? Another mission? Already?

  It couldn’t be. We hadn’t even been home a couple of hours yet.

  Wirenut appeared in the door. “Got the page. What’s up?”

  We shrugged.

  Wirenut took a seat across from us.

  A couple of weeks ago David, Wirenut, and I had been in this conference room finding out about the neurotoxin for the very first time. Wirenut had been fidgety, restless, nervous. Looking at him now you’d never guess he had been any other way but calm and collected.

  TL entered the conference room with Chapling hobbling behind him.

  He climbed up into the chair beside me and leaned in. “Welcome home,” he whispered.

  Thanks, I mouthed back. Gosh, I’d missed his little, frizzy-headed self.

  TL pressed a button on the remote-control panel housed within the table. The back wall slid open, revealing a wide flat screen.

  Katarina appeared.

  I glanced at Wirenut. His brow twitched. Other than that he showed no emotion.

  “Specialists,” TL began, “Katarina Leosi has been found innocent of all charges related to Antonio Badaduchi, aka Octavias Zorba.”

  I sent her a small smile to let her know I was glad for her. Way down deep inside I knew she was a good guy. And I’d been right.

  “Katarina,” TL continued, “has found three documents in her bedroom that have prompted her to contact us.” TL nodded to the screen. “Go ahead.”

  She cleared her throat. “Approximately forty-five minutes ago while packing my belongings, I found documents hidden in a secret compartment of my dresser. I wasn’t aware my fath— Octavias knew I had a secret compartment. Perhaps he hid these papers there because he knew his office contents would be confiscated if anything went wrong.”

  Katarina’s image slid to the screen’s upper-left corner. Three images of handwritten paper appeared in the center of the screen. “This is Octavias’s writing. I’m sure he handwrote them to avoid a computer trail. They’re in code. From my limited knowledge of cryptography, I pieced together they’re about Stan, or Frankie as I now know is his real name. That’s when I contacted you.”

  “Thank you, Katarina,” TL said.

  With a slight nod, she disappeared from the screen.