The rumble of a pickup truck shattered the afternoon quiet.
Audie was in the front garden, deadheading the roses. It was a punishment task Corine had assigned for the water spill.
She looked up. Arthur hopped out of his truck. He was holding a pink box. Donuts.
"Audie!" he waved, grinning like a golden retriever.
Panic seized her throat. She looked up at the second-floor balcony.
Basil was there. He was standing in the shadows of the awning, motionless. He was holding a letter opener, turning it over and over in his fingers.
Corine walked out the front door. She looked at Arthur, then at his truck, then at Audie.
"Is this the... suitor?" Corine asked. Her tone suggested she was looking at a cockroach.
Arthur walked up to the gate. "Hi. I brought these for Audie. Maple bars. Her favorite."
Audie felt Basil's gaze boring into the back of her skull. If she accepted them, Arthur was dead. Basil would destroy him.
She had to kill it. Now.
Audie dropped her shears. She turned her back on Arthur, refusing to even look at him. She crossed her arms, her posture a wall of ice.
Arthur's smile faltered. "I... I just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the fair."
Audie glanced over her shoulder, her expression one of utter disdain. She looked at his truck and wrinkled her nose, then looked down at her own dirt-stained hands as if they were more interesting than he was. The silent rejection was more brutal than any words.
Arthur stopped. The box of donuts lowered. "Audie?"
She simply turned and walked back toward the roses, dismissing him completely.
Corine let out a small, approving hum. "Well said, child."
Arthur turned red. He looked at Audie's back with hurt confusion, then threw the box of donuts into the trash bin by the gate.
"Fine," he said. "Forget it."
He got in his truck and peeled away, gravel spraying.
Audie watched him go. Her chest ached. He was a good man. And she had just crushed him to save him.
Corine patted her shoulder. "Good girl. You're learning."
Corine went inside.
Audie looked up at the balcony. Basil was gone.
A moment later, Mercer, the head of security, walked up to her. He handed her a folded newspaper clipping.
"From Mr. Dean," Mercer said. "A reward."
Audie opened it.
It wasn't cash. It was a small article from the local business journal. The garage where Arthur worked had been abruptly shut down by the county inspector for "critical safety violations." Effective immediately.
"Why?" Audie whispered. "I did what he wanted."
"Mr. Dean's methods are not for public discussion," Mercer said.
Audie crumpled the paper. Rage, hot and white, flared in her gut. She marched toward the house. She was going to scream at him. She didn't care about the cover.
She stopped outside the library door.
"Short the stock," Basil's voice floated out. It was crisp. Clear. "Sterling Industries. They're going to miss their earnings report on Monday. Do it now. Leverage everything in the blind trust."
Audie froze.
He sounded... sane. Perfectly, terrifyingly sane.
He wasn't a madman lashing out. He was a shark circling the water.
She backed away. If he was sane, then everything he did to her-the safe room, the threats, the games-wasn't illness. It was choice. Her mission parameters shifted in an instant. This wasn't a recovery operation. It was a war against an enemy combatant hiding in plain sight.
She went back to her room. She retrieved the donuts from the trash. She sat on her bed and ate a maple bar, the tears streaming down her face mixing with the sugar glaze. The sweetness tasted like ash. She wasn't just mourning the mechanic; she was mourning the simplicity of the mission she thought she had.
