The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,15

it down to the street once a week.”

“Well, you might want to keep an eye on it.”

“Jem loves digging through trash,” Tean said. “He’s really cute when he does it. Like when Scipio is trying to dig down to get a mole.”

“I don’t love it,” Jem snapped. “And I’m not cute—I mean, that’s—you’re missing the whole point. I’m just saying people throw away a lot of stuff that can be personally revealing, so just bear that in mind.”

Hannah nodded. “Gosh, this is the first time in two weeks that I’ve felt even vaguely optimistic.”

“We’re going to figure this out,” Jem said.

“That’s not a legally binding guarantee,” Tean said. He shrank when both of them looked at him, but he added, “Just to be clear.”

“We’ll stick close to you all weekend,” Jem said. “But if we’re doing our job right, you probably won’t see us. That doesn’t mean we aren’t there, though.”

“We?” Tean asked.

“Yes, obviously,” Jem said absently. To Hannah, he said, “Do you want us to start tonight?”

“No,” she said. “The Turners across the street are having a family party; there are a million cars I don’t recognize, and I wouldn’t know where to tell you to start. Tomorrow will be fine.”

“Get online,” Jem said, “and order some security cameras. They’re cheap, they’re easy to set up, and it’ll help us figure out if the same person keeps coming around the house.”

“I’ll do it as soon as I go inside,” Hannah said as they stopped in her driveway. Her parents’ car was gone. She glanced at the dark windows, sighed, and added, “Right after Caleb and I fight this out to the death.”

Jem and Hannah hugged; Tean and Hannah hugged. She squeezed Tean extra tight and whispered, “He’s amazing. Don’t screw this up.”

And before Tean could even start figuring out what that meant, she was hurrying up the walk.

“What’s this we business?” Tean asked as they went back to the truck. “You’re the one who’s getting paid.”

“Yes, but I’m like Sam Spade, and you’re like my girl Effie Perine.” Jem adjusted his seat belt. “You’re willing to do this out of your pure love and devotion to me.”

“A normal-friend level of love and devotion. Actually, no devotion at all. And just friendly friendship feelings. No love. And Effie got a paycheck.”

“And besides, what else were you going to do this weekend?”

“I was going to stare up at the empty skies and think about how the universe is endlessly spinning us farther and farther into a cold, merciless void and about how we’re all going to die and how meaningless everything is. Just a normal weekend.”

Grinning, Jem rested a hand on the nape of Tean’s neck, squeezing lightly. “Let’s get some ice cream.”

That was when Tean pounced. The punch got Jem in the ribs, and the blond man rocked back in his seat, groaning.

“That’s for the hunchback stuff,” Tean said.

“I’ve got a punctured lung.”

“Good. You deserve it.”

7

Jem woke early in the West Valley apartment where he squatted. Someone was hammering on the front door. He had slept in a pair of shorts—the ambient heat of the building kept his unit plenty warm, especially in the spring—and he padded to the door and glanced out the peephole. In the hallway, a small woman was examining a clipboard. She had bottle-blond hair, and her mouth was a slash of bright pink lipstick. She knocked again, called, “Hello,” and then tried the key. It worked, and Jem slid to the side as the door opened. Then the chain caught, keeping the door from opening more than a few inches.

“What in the world?” the woman said. “Hello? Is someone in there?”

Jem had played this game before; he stayed out of sight and waited.

Grumbling to herself, the woman finally let the door fall shut, and the sound of footsteps moved along the hallway. She’d go get a maintenance worker, and they’d eventually be back with a pair of bolt cutters. It wouldn’t be fast, though; Jem always chose apartment buildings that showed signs of neglect, where it was obvious that nothing happened in a timely manner.

The bummer was that Jem had liked this apartment. A lot. He made his way through the unit, dressing, shoving clothes in a duffel, grabbing the few toiletries that were worth taking, mostly hair products, because they were expensive. He left the mattress and bedding and the fan. That stuff was all easy to come by. Then he opened the window onto the fire escape, slid the duffel out onto the