The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,19

wanted to frown but was now struggling not to.

“And then maybe you’d get a second date,” Jem said.

“I’ll get a second date when I want a second date,” Tean said.

“Of course you will. Especially with those cute frown lines.”

“Can we please not talk about lines on my face? Or anything on my face? Or my face at all? Or second dates or dates or anything? Let’s just not talk about anything for a while.”

“I was trying to give you a compliment.”

“To get back on topic,” Tean said, his voice betraying an effort to sound normal, “I thought we had decided that it was likely a woman who had followed Hannah on the trail.”

“Or a short man.”

“Ok. Well, she only saw one person.”

“Short people can have friends too.”

“I don’t know.”

“No, they totally can.”

“I meant I don’t know why someone would dress up as a missionary. I mean, it wouldn’t be hard at all. Almost all missionaries keep their name tags after they come home, so it’d be a simple matter of getting them out of storage or stealing them from someone. But why? Mormons are nosy about missionaries; they don’t like seeing them waste the Lord’s time, so if they were loafing around, someone would probably approach them and try to figure out what they were doing.”

Jem thought about this for a moment. “So you still have your name tag?”

Tean’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Oh my God,” Jem said. “Oh my God!”

“No. Whatever you’re thinking, no.”

“Tean, this is perfect. For Halloween, we can dress up as missionary companions.”

“You didn’t go on a mission. You don’t have a name tag.”

“I’ll steal one. Oh my God, this will be perfect. The absolute perfect costume for best friends. And it’ll be ironic.”

“It’s not ironic at all. And best friends don’t dress up for Halloween together. And you’d have to shave your beard.”

“Well—”

“And the only acceptable friend costumes for us would be if I were a katydid and you were one of those caterpillars from Ecuador that look like bird poop and together we looked like bird poop on a leaf.”

“Did you just make a crypsis-slash-poop joke?” Jem said.

“No, it was a fashion recommendation.”

“Cryptic poop. That’s better. Did you just make a cryptic poop joke?”

Tean lowered his head to rest it on the steering wheel. “Get out of the truck. Go away.”

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your best friend-slash-missionary companion. Also, Hannah is pulling out of the garage.”

Tean sat up, started the truck, and put his hand on the gear shift.

“Hold on,” Jem said. “We’re waiting to see if anybody else follows first.”

“I know. I just want to be ready.”

Hannah glanced both ways as she backed out onto the street, and her gaze slid over Jem and Tean without seeming to register them. She was driving a blue Ford Focus, the paint on the hood flaking and, in many places, already gone. Hannah’s car made Jem think of Caleb’s Omega watch, made him wonder what the hell kept the two of them together. He adjusted the truck’s rearview mirror, checking to see if anyone was pulling out to follow Hannah, but the street remained empty. When Hannah had reached the next intersection and was signaling to turn, she still didn’t have anyone following her.

“All right,” Jem said, and Tean eased the truck away from the curb.

They spent the day tailing Hannah as she ran errands: Nordstrom, Wasatch Dry Cleaners, a clothing consignment store called Grandma’s Dusty Muffin—Jem tried to talk about the name, but Tean turned on classical music and played it so loudly that Jem finally gave up—REI, and ending with groceries at Albertsons. She stopped halfway through the day for lunch at Kneaders, and they used the time to run back to Tean’s apartment and let Scipio out. On their way back to the Kneaders, Jem, luckily, spotted a Sonic and made Tean pull in. Jem liked their tater tots, and Tean was practically glowing as he talked about trans fats and the increased chances of his heart exploding from a blocked artery, or something like that.

All in all, it was a great day, with only one exception: there was no sign whatsoever that someone was following Hannah. In their initial conversation, she had mentioned a green car, and although Jem had seen many green cars, none of them had come close to tailing Hannah.

It was early evening, the May day mild, the smell of cut grass and gasoline floating in through the Ford’s open windows, when