Page 46 of I’ll Be Watching You

“Thank you,” I said to Georgia. “We may need your help decoding whatever data we find. Lu’s a computer whiz, but we’re not medical researchers and the little I know about medicine proves I don’t understand any of it. Will you take my call? Or do I have to waste my time and drive back here?”

Georgia hesitated. “I told your mother I was out. I don’t want to lose my job. I loved the job in Tucson, and I’m beginning to like my job here too. But mostly? I don’t want to die.”

“Do you think that’s still a risk? You just said you don’t know any real details.”

She stared at me solemnly. “Yet, Liz is dead, isn’t she?”

Yes, she was, I thought. I didn’t know why. Yet. But I would get answers.

“We’re going to put an end to this,” I said. “And I might need your help. But I won’t mention your name to anyone outside of my family, fair enough?”

She closed her eyes, nodded. “Fine.”

Georgia put her mug down on a coaster and walked us to the door. Luisa told her to keep her wits about her, lock her doors and windows, watch for people following her.

“One more thing,” I said. “You tracked Liz down at a veterans’ shelter in February. She told me she volunteered there, but she didn’t tell me the name.”

“Honor House,” Georgia said without hesitation. “A great program—shelter, food, drug rehab for homeless or struggling vets. Liz and I volunteered at the Central Avenue location every month. That’s how I found her after I left Tucson. I’m so sorry she was killed. If I had known this might happen, I’d never have told her to call you.”

“That wouldn’t have changed anything,” I said, though I still felt a twinge of guilt. “She saw something at work then called me.”

I knew of Honor House. It had been Dad’s favorite charity, and he’d been honored a decade ago for his financial and personal contributions.

I glanced at Luisa as we walked back to the car. Our next step was clear. Willa Blankenship. Neurovantix. Nadine Pierce. Three threads. We had to pull each one and see which unraveled first.

As we drove away, I said to Lu, “You should stay with me.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you are. But we need to watch each other’s backs. Tess has Gabriel and Nate, Nico has Quincy, Jack is staying with Mom. You can go back to your apartment in Tempe, or you can come home with me. Even though we both are perfectly capable of watching our own backs,” I added.

Luisa cracked a smile.

“What about Cal?”

“He likes you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“He’s probably at his own place. I told him I would be late tonight.”

“Do you think so?”

I thought. “Fifty-fifty. But that doesn’t matter. I have a guest room.”

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jack Angelhart

Jack stepped through his mother’s front door with an overnight bag slung over his shoulder—and stopped cold.

Aunt Rita. Uncle Tom. Uncle Rafe. His mom. All seated around the dining room table, silent.

His family wasn’t the silent type.

His mom was the oldest of seven children. His Uncle Mateo had died when Jack was young, and two of his aunts had moved out of state before Jack was out of high school, but Jack had grown up surrounded by uncles, aunts, cousins. They threw parties for everything—birthdays, anniversaries, random Tuesdays if no one had hosted in a while. But now, no one was smiling. Only Uncle Rafe looked up and gave him a tired nod. “Hello, Jack.”