Spies and Prejudice (19 page)

Tanner’s eyes search mine. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

It is what I wanted. It’s what I want. Isn’t it? “Yes.” The word slips from my tongue.

Tanner falls back against the car with such force that the car bounces. It’s a bit like waking from a dream, this sudden crash back to reality.

“You were right about Drew.”

“Did something happen?”

“Not like you think. I found out he paid the woman who witnessed my mom’s accident to talk to me.”

“I should’ve waited until I had something on him.”

I throw him a bone. “I’ll get something.”

Tanner spins to face me. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Does he seriously think he can tell me what to do? “You’re not the only one who was trained to do this. I’ve got more than one botched mission behind me.”

His watch buzzes on his hand. He brings his wrist to his mouth and talks into the face. “Tell her I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Her?” I ask.

“My mom. I was expected for the debriefing ten minutes ago.” He doesn’t look happy at having to face his mom. “This isn’t like spying on someone’s boyfriend, Berry. These people are dangerous.”

Spoken like someone who’s never been caught holding a memory card that will destroy a man’s family. “I can handle Drew Mattingly.”

“You don’t know that. And we still don’t know who he works for.”

“Then how do you know they’re dangerous?”

“Because they’re after something that can hurt a lot of people.”

“The energy drink? It sounded like it worked like some kind of caffeine on steroids.”

Tanner’s jaw falls. “How do you know that?”

“Not the only one who was trained to do this?”

Tanner watches me, letting the silence grow in the hopes that I’ll talk to fill it. It’s a simple interrogation technique that’s surprisingly effective. Unless the interrogee knows exactly what you’re doing. I keep my lips firmly shut.

After a few seconds Tanner falls prey to his own attack of silence. “That stuff is potent, but the herb that’s used is virtually undetectable.”

“Okay, but wouldn’t the side effects be pretty obvious once it got into the marketplace?”

“Not necessarily. Most people will only get a minor kick, like drinking a few cups of coffee. Only a few will have a violent reaction, and that will occur so gradually that it could be years, maybe decades, before anyone makes the connection with Juiced.”

“So the product’s destined to fail in the long run.”

“But in the short run, it will sell like crazy. And a lot of people will be hurt along the way. Not just the people who go nuts. Their victims.”

Why is he so sure it will sell? Then I remember what the letter said. “And it will sell like crazy because people will become addicted to it.” The implications of my mom’s letter are bigger than I thought. The drink may make a few people go crazy, but there is a reason someone might still want to get it to market. There’s a reason someone might want my mother dead.

“You saw the letter.”

“Busted.”

Tanner pushes his hand through his hair so hard that it stands straight up.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty good at what I do.”

“Yeah, no.” His watch buzzes again. “I’m coming,” he says into it.

“If it’s so dangerous, why doesn’t Moss just destroy the formula?”

“Maybe because he trusted my family to keep it safe.”

I don’t miss the fact that he uses past tense. “Are you in a lot of trouble?”

“I’m about to find out just how much. I might not be allowed back in the field until I’m twenty-one.”

I shouldn’t feel guilty. Tanner botched his mission all by himself. “Maybe you could go to college or something.”

He shakes his head. “Probably not.”

“Why not? You could major in mercenary studies.”

Tanner bites his lower lip to keep from smiling. I try not to stare.

“I’ll be okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Which reminds me, where’s your bodyguard?”

“I ditched him. Have you heard him sing?”

He nods. “Just lay off the Rockstar Hero and you’ll be fine.”

“He’s got a song in the school play. There’s no stopping him.”

“Earplugs then. You shouldn’t be home alone.”

“I won’t be.” I don’t add that it’s because I’ll be looking for a way inside Moss Enterprises.

“Do me a favor?” Tanner’s face is so close that for a second I think he might kiss me. His eyes are half-closed and his lips part so slightly I might not notice if I weren’t watching them so closely.

“What?” The word is strangled in my throat.

His watch buzzes again. His eyes fly open and he stands up
straighter. He’s still right next to me, but he feels a mile away. He reaches for his watch and hits a button without saying anything. He looks back at me. “Let this go. Please.”

I step away from the car. Away from him. He has no idea that he’s just asked me to do the one thing I can’t ever do. “Drew won’t hurt me.”

Which is more than I can say about you
.

Tanner puts his hands in his pockets and takes a step toward the office building across the street. “Just be careful.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Tanner smiles. “You don’t.”

“Well, I’m not going to lose it over a guy and blow my cover before I have anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That was low.” He doesn’t stop smiling.

“Have a nice life, Tanner Halston.”

He lifts his chin and walks the rest of the way across the street. He starts jogging once he gets to the parking lot, running all the way to the office building. He moves unconsciously, in perfect strides that nearly float above the ground.

I wait until he disappears inside before I allow myself to close my eyes. I try to memorize the angles of his face and how they soften when he smiles. How he looked when I thought he might kiss me. I cling to the memories while I still have them. I know too well how good-bye can steal more than just the future.

S
aturday afternoon is always quiet at Sconehenge, but today the place looks positively vacant, with the wait staff outnumbering patrons by three to one. Since there are only three servers, I sit alone with my Diet Coke and manage to draw glares from all three of them for interrupting their social hour.

Drew shows up right on schedule, wearing an easy grin that doesn’t look the slightest bit forced. Either he thinks I’m going to help him get exactly what he wants or he’s really good at this. Probably both.

When I called him on the way back from Orange County, I tried to invite myself over to his place, but he immediately came up with a plausible reason I couldn’t (his father was hosting a barbecue for all his new coworkers). Right. No way was I letting him into my house alone now, so I had him meet me here.

He takes a seat across from me. “Last night was kind of insane, right?” He has no idea just how insane it all turned out to be.

“Can we not talk about it?” I ask.

“Yeah, of course. Rumor is your friend Tanner already skipped
out. I guess Mr. Moss rethought the whole high school security team.” He laughs.

“How did you hear that?” I wonder if I would’ve caught Drew’s slip, if I didn’t already know what a snake he is. Probably. It’s not like Drew has friends.

“I wanted to talk to him. It’s not every day someone accuses you of being some kind of spy, right? Anyway, he’s gone.”

“So this rumor was started by who, you?”

“Right here, right now. How does it feel to be in on the ground floor?”

I can’t help admiring the skill with which Drew weaves his lies. Quickly and with enough charm to make you gloss right over the holes.

“So what was in the letter?” His voice is perfectly modulated, with just the right mixture of idle curiosity and genuine interest.

I give him the details, even though I’m fairly certain he already knows. It’s the same leaked letter that Pemberley recovered for Mr. Moss a few weeks ago.

“It sounds like a motive,” he says.

“I’ve been thinking about that. If someone wanted my mom killed so they could get Juiced past the FDA, why isn’t Juiced in stores?”

“Good point.” Drew picks up a menu. “Maybe they’re just waiting for the right time.” The menu shakes in his hands.

Drew’s words send a shiver down my spine. I assumed that I was wrong about Mr. Moss because the drink was shut down. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was just postponed? What if Mr. Moss needs to keep his secret safe so he can release the product himself?

I take a breath. “We need to get into Moss Enterprises.”

Drew looks up from the menu. “How are we going to do that?”

“I don’t know. But what if you’re right? What if the formula for Juiced is still there? What if they’re waiting for just the right moment to get it past the FDA?”

“What are you saying? That we steal the formula?”

Wow. Drew is really good at this. He plants the seed and then makes everything seem like it’s my idea. He made me think I asked for his help, when he was pushing me to find out about my mom from the beginning. And now he gets me to suggest finding and stealing the formula he’s here to get.

“I know it sounds crazy. I’ll understand if you don’t want to help.”

Drew shakes his head. “I’m not letting you do this by yourself.”

“Jason will help.”

“Jason? He knows about this?” Drew looks genuinely concerned.

“He’s my friend.”

“I know. But isn’t this kind of dangerous? I mean your mom might have gotten killed for knowing about Juiced.”

I nearly choke on my soda. It hasn’t occurred to me that I might’ve put Jason in danger by telling him about my mother’s letter. It’s all ancient history. Unless someone really does want to release the drink now. If so, the information is every bit as dangerous as it was when my mother first discovered it.

And I’ve just told the enemy that we know.

J
ason paces in the parking lot of Moss Enterprises. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“You can wait in the car if you want.” I already tried to get Jason to stay home, but he insisted on coming.

“Oh no you don’t. You’ve already bailed on me once today. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Drew will be with me.”

“Hello, Drew is a two-faced fake, remember?”

“He wants the same thing I do.”

“Until you find it.”

“I’ll figure it out.” I can’t let Drew leave with the formula, but I can’t worry about that part now. I reach inside my messenger bag and finger my pepper spray.

A car turns into the lot, its lights illuminating Jason’s white tee shirt.

“Put on the hoodie,” I say.

Jason shrugs on the black jacket. The car parks farther up the lot. It’s not Drew’s hatchback. It’s Mary Chris’s Lexus.

Jason watches Mary Chris get out of the car and walk toward us purposefully. “We are so busted.”

Mare’s blonde hair is tied up uncharacteristically in a tight bun. “You guys weren’t seriously going to try to break into my dad’s company?”

I glare at Jason. “You told her?”

“Not exactly.”

“Define not exactly.”

Mare raises her palm. “It doesn’t matter. Be glad he did. Don’t you think it will be easier if the boss’s daughter is with you?”

“You’re coming with us?”

Mare takes a breath. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me all day. If your mom died because she was working for us, then I need to find out what happened as much as you do.”

“It’s not your dad, Mare. He hired Pemberley to keep the formula from getting into the wrong hands.”

“It’s not your dad either, Berry. I’ve known him since I was five. He couldn’t have killed your mother. He would’ve died for her.”

“Truce?” I hold out my pinky finger.

Mare clasps my finger with hers. “You can trust me with the truth.”

“I know.”

Drew’s car finally pulls into the lot. He’s dressed all in black, like an emo kid. He takes in the three of us. “We can’t all go in. It’s going to be hard enough for one or two of us.”

Mary Chris holds up a key chain. “Unless one of us has the key.”

“Mare, you can’t. What if we get caught?”

“We’ll tell them we came in to party.”

“You’re kind of brilliant. Devious but brilliant.”

Mary Chris takes us to a side door that leads to a corridor connecting two buildings. There’s a large warehouse to our right, but we head down the hallway to the main office building. The hall is brightly lit with florescent tubes, even though the office is empty.

“Two security guards patrol the building and grounds, but they’re stationed up front most of the night.” Mary Chris leads us up some stairs and past a large conference room, before stopping at a set of double doors. “This is my dad’s office. Anything sensitive is kept in here.”

“How do we get in?” Drew gives the door a push, but it’s locked. He looks at me. “What do you think? Can you pick a dead bolt?”

Mare rolls her eyes and dangles the key chain. She steps in front of Drew and tries a series of keys until one of them clicks into place and the latch turns. “Voilà!”

We step inside. Mare turns on a light switch as the door closes behind us. Mr. Moss’s office is even larger than his home office. Two leather couches frame a huge abstract painting covered in blue and red splatters. To the right is a desk that curves around in an L-shape. The computer has two huge flat-screen monitors. There are neat stacks of documents in boxes labled “in” and “out.” A bookshelf holds a series of business and marketing guides. Behind his desk is a poster-sized photo of Mary Chris and her mom, looking over the chair like angels.

Mare glances at the photo and then looks away. She’s just let us into her dad’s private sanctuary. She watches silently as Drew heads straight for the desk and flips on the computer monitor. The enemy is in the safe house.

I follow Drew and look over his shoulder as he tries a series of
passwords without remembering to ask us for input. In his over-excitement, his hands fly over the keyboard. He forgets to pretend to be a high school student.

After about ten tries, Drew’s brow creases. “I don’t suppose you know your father’s password too?”