Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

“ S o what do we do now?" Emma couldn't sit, jumping to her feet and pacing the kitchen as Truman stared out the window. He’d gone eerily silent after the text, and it was driving her nuts. "Talk to me."

"At the moment, nothing."

"What?" He couldn't be serious. "He has my dad. We have to figure out a plan to get him back.”

"He may have your pa, and he may not. He’s dangling that as a carrot to get you to that address. He knows very well that you're not going to come alone, and he's using the emotional bond you have with your father to keep you from thinking logically."

The man was infuriating. “No shit. That doesn't mean I can just ignore him. If I don't show up, who knows what he'll do? If he does have my father, he could kill him. I need to follow his instructions, and you need to figure out how to save Dad."

“Believe it or not, I do have experience with these sorts of situations." He turned from the window, his face blank, yet his words chastising. "I know what I'm doing, Emma. You're going to have to put a smidge of faith in me to work this out. I'll do everything in my power to rescue Charlie, yet my main concern is you. I'm not letting you walk into a trap and get yourself killed."

She wanted to throw something at him. "I'm not an idiot. I know he's up to something, and he's trying to pull both of us into it. But together, we're smarter than he is. Together , we can handle him and save my dad."

He blew out a breath, seemed to force his shoulders to relax, and his expression to shift into something more receptive. It was like watching an actor about to go on stage. "You're right. We'll figure this out. The meeting isn't until midnight, so we have time."

His about-face threw her, but only for a second. "I'm right? Wow, you’re slipping, Gunn.”

He leaned on the back of the kitchen chair and gave her a lopsided grin. "Gave into easily, did I?"

"A sure tell.”

"I forget you can see through my bluffs."

She walked around the table and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm serious. Tell me what's going on inside that genius brain of yours. What are our options? Let's run through different scenarios, plan it out, figure out weak spots, and what we do when things go to shit."

“Just like the Red Hearts used to do?” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You want to run a con on the Mastermind?”

"My dad is the Vorpal Sword. Rescuing him is not all that different from a diamond heist."

Behind his eyes, she saw the wheels turning. "All right. The first thing we need to do is analyze that location. Why did he pick it, and what are its vulnerabilities?”

She snatched up her phone. "I'm on it. Should I respond to his text?"

"Leave him hanging for now."

She grinned. "I like the way you think."

She plopped into her chair, using the map app to find the address.

Truman sat, too, and began tapping away on his phone. She recognized the crease between his brows and knew everything was going to work out. She didn’t ask what he was looking up—the fact that he was including her in his plans made her ridiculously happy. Whoever the Mastermind was, he was going down.

"Truman?" She held out her device. "Look."

He glanced at the screen. His chuckle was devoid of humor. "That bastard."

The location was one of the empty storefronts under Gani's apartment. Emma's happiness morphed into that earlier anger. "Do you think my father was there last night? That he was right under our noses?"

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "The Mastermind was, but not your pa. He's using that as a meeting spot to taunt us, to make you think exactly that. He wants you to beat yourself up for not realizing it."

She wanted to believe him, but she didn't. This guy really was good. "Makes sense. He wants to chip away at my confidence and, as you said, use my emotional connection to Dad to screw up my thinking so I make a mistake. "

“Emotions are like explosives—difficult to handle, and they make a huge mess when they go off. But you're smarter than he is."

Truman was. She wasn't sure herself. "Between the two of us, I'm the one that knows him better, and that works to our advantage."

His jaw ticked, and it seemed like another tell. One she couldn’t put her finger on. He nodded. "Two heads are better than one."

"I do know him better than you, right?"

He read something on his phone’s screen. "I know his kind, while you have more knowledge about him specifically."

There was something more between the lines. She wanted to push him about it, but knew it wouldn’t get her anywhere.

Still, she wondered if she was the only one here with an emotional tie to the situation. "Well, at least we've already been at that location. We haven't been inside the shops, but we know the layout."

Going to her backpack, he grabbed the paper with the information Dolan had printed and a pencil from the junk drawer in the kitchen before flopping back down. Flipping the page to the blank side, he sketched out the building and surrounding landscape. "If you approach from the south, I can be positioned here."

He made an X opposite the parking lot of the used car business. It was a good fifty yards from the place, and she felt her nerves tense at the thought of him being that far away. But he couldn't be much closer without being seen. “Can Dolan give us some of those ear things so we can communicate without the Mastermind hearing us?"

“Comm units? Sure. I’ll text him in a minute; I have other items I want, too.”

“And he’ll help us? You two have such a weird friendship. He acts as if he hates you.”

“He does. I stole some top honors from him when we were in school. He’s never forgiven me, but Dukies for life and all that rubbish.”

“Dukies?”

He didn’t look up. “Duke of York’s Military Academy.”

It seemed like more than that, but she didn't pry. “How long have you known him?"

He hesitated only a second, but it was long enough to tell her what she wanted to know. “A long time.”

They’d met on the streets, she knew it in her gut. Had Truman's mentor taken Dolan under his wing as well?

The rest of the morning was spent devising plans and running through them. If she did this and the Mastermind did that, what would Truman do? If the Mastermind did something else, how would they respond?

She made sure to strategize not only how to get in to rescue her dad but also how to get him out. No matter what happened, she was going to save him.

And then Truman dropped a bomb on her she hadn't considered. "I know it's uncomfortable to think about this," he said, "but it's possible your dad won't be there. That it’s simply a lure to get you inside so the Mastermind can kill you.”

Her mouth went dry. "Why would he want to do that?"

Truman’s face was serious. "It seems he's intent on taking out everyone associated with the Alice in Wonderland Gang.”

"Yet, none of us know him, so why? Why would he feel threatened by us? He disguised his voice, so we can't even recognize that.”

"Gani could identify him. He's not taking any chances that the rest of you may be able to."

"It feels like something more." She racked her brain, searching through her memories. “This feels personal, like revenge on my family. But for what?”

Truman stiffened. His gaze dropped to the table, but she knew he was seeing something else—something in his own past?

"What is it?" she asked. “Where did you just go?"

He shook himself. "You may be onto something. Could there be a reason he’d want revenge on your mum or dad?”

She shrugged. “Nothing I'm aware of."

"Think, Emma. Is it possible your mother ever cheated him out of a score? Could she have had a relationship with him and broke it off?"

She screwed up her nose. "You think my mother slept with the Mastermind, and he's a scorned lover?” Another thought hit—this one even more atrocious. “Oh, god. You don’t think… I can’t be…”

“ His daughter?”

Her stomach lurched. Goose flesh raced over her skin. “No way. Charlie is my dad. He has to be.”

He stood, sending the chair scraping across the floor. “Let’s take a break. We could both use it, huh?”

Gripping the table, she tried to digest the idea. Nope, still appalling.

Truman was ready with a distraction. He scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom. Soon, his magic hands and mouth took her away from the ugly thoughts. When she whispered “please” this time, she was asking him to make her forget.

Forget what had been.

Forget what could be.

Forget the downward spiral she was on.

She clung to him with all her might, praying she could survive this storm.