Page 33 of Into the Fire

“That’s how I like to think of it, yeah.” Another slurp of Dr Pepper. “Do you have any idea what my mad skills would go for if I turned black hat?”

Evan sank his face into his palm.

Joey grinned at his feigned bemusement. “Didn’t anyone tell you how hard it is to raise assassin children in Los Angeles?”

“I’m not raising you,” Evan said. “And you’re not an assassin.”

“Yeah, ’cuz you wouldn’t let me.”

“You’re grounded.”

She snickered. Then she spun around in her chair. Her hands played across one of a succession of keyboards, Beethoven pounding out a concerto.

In his pocket his RoamZone made a woeful noise. He sighed. Then he tugged it out and looked at it. Red bars had appeared across the screen. She’d locked him out.

In the event of an emergency, he’d given Joey partial access to the back end of his digital operations. Which in her hands had quickly turned into full access. That was the thing with kids. Give ’em an inch.

“Very funny, Joey.”

“I think so.” She really seemed to be enjoying herself now. “Oh, wait. I forgot the best part.” She spun back to the keyboard. More frenzied typing.

A message materialized on his RoamZone: FOR USE OF THIS DEVICE, PLEASE WIRE $250,000 TO ACCOUNT NUMBER—

He lifted his eyes. “You can’t blackmail me for use of my own phone.”

“Pretty sure I just did.” She was all but glowing. He had to admit, it was a pretty charming little routine. Charming and infuriating. “Could be worse,” she said. “I could change your ringtone to something, like, really embarrassing.”

“Unlock my phone. Now.”

She bounced a bit in the chair. “Sure you don’t need a sweater?”

Wearily, Evan took the bait. “Why?”

“’Cuz of all this shade I’m throwing your way?”

“Josephine.”

“Okay, okay.” Back to the keyboard. The red bars and the joke ransom note vanished from the RoamZone. “Happy?”

“No,” he said. “But I’m less unhappy.”

“Now, what brings you here in the middle of the night?” she asked. “Girl trouble?” She finished her drink and tossed it into a trash can filled with three other empty Big Gulps, which went some way toward explaining her caffeinated patter at this hour. “What’s going on with that DA lady? Mia?”

“Nothing.”

“But you guys would be so good together. You get all flirty and nervous around her. It’s cute. I mean, in an old-person way. Why aren’t you guys at least dating?”

“Because if she finds out who I really am, she’d have to prosecute me.”

Joey pulled her mouth to one side. A pensive pause. “That is complicating. But we can find you someone else. You should date some … I dunno, athleisure-wear model.”

Evan forged onward. “I need you to check all emergency-room records in the area.”

“For what?”

Evan explained. Joey listened intently, for once not running her mouth. He was a reasonably skilled hacker, but she was an Olympian. She’d have the hit man tracked down in a fraction of the time it would take him.

When he’d finally finished his account of what had happened at Grant’s office, she was perfectly still with focus, her emerald eyes large. “So you fucked up his arm in a specific way just so you could track the injury?”