Page 63 of Till Death Do Us Part

“Petra,” Caitlyn’s voice said, and I looked at where Caitlyn came into the room in a wheelchair I hadn’t seen before. “Were you trying to fight Vera again?”

“I wasn’t trying to fight her,” Petra said. “It was supposed to be over in one punch. I’ll get her next time, though.”

“Vera,” Jenna said, “is our best operative. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get her next time, or any time.”

“So, what’s up?” I asked Caitlyn. “I’m assuming Petra came around for something other than to flail like a fish on land.”

“Hey,” Petra complained. “You want to go again?”

“Petra,” Jenna and Caitlyn said at the same time, and Petra put her hands up.

“What?”

Caitlyn’s expression turned serious. “There’s something interesting on the network. Come take a look.”

Petra had made quick work of moving things around to accommodate Caitlyn’s new wheelchair, which I guess had been what Petra was out for this morning. Apparently she was still working on the stairlift, though, because she got Caitlyn down to the basement by scooping her up in one arm and carrying the wheelchair in the other. Dumb, brute strength was good for something after all.

Elaine was waiting in the basement, too, wearing that white dress again. My body reacted right away to the sight of her, memories of last night lighting me up.

Mine.

She smiled at me, and from the blush on her cheeks, I could tell she was thinking the same thing. Good.

“How did the examination go?” Elaine said, and I smirked.

“Jenna says I’m feeling much better today. Said I must have slept well.”

Elaine looked down, blushing. “I’m… I’m glad.”

“Quit flirting,” Petra sighed. “We’ve got a job to do.”

“She’s my wife,” I said flatly. “Leave me alone.”

“More importantly,” Caitlyn said, “you can put me down now.”

“I haven’t finished wheelchair-fitting the basement! It’s just the chivalrous thing to do!”

Elaine suppressed a laugh. I rolled my eyes, joining them in the server room, where Petra finally set Caitlyn down at her computer seat. Caitlyn was tapping away at it quickly.

“I scraped some data and made some quick visualizations,” she said, pulling up a series of charts and graphs, nothing obvious showing up between them.

“What are we looking at?” I said.

“Logistics orders.”

“There’s no pattern here.”

“I think it’s encrypted. None of it makes sense. Except that it all links back through…” She zoomed in on the center of the screen, one node on a network diagram that branched out into the others, a code on it. SN42331-28810.

“Bellare Convention Center,” I said, and Caitlyn and Elaine looked at me. “That’s its internal code.”

“You just know that off the top of your head?” Elaine said.

“She has a good memory for data,” Petra said. “Don’t ask her what information she has on you.”

“I don’t have everything,” I said. “Just what was in the dossier. Credit card number, bank account information, your top used passwords—you reuse too many of them, by the way—your phone number, the phone number of your college boyfriend…”

“Vera!” Elaine clasped her hands over her face. Caitlyn turned in her chair.