off his half full plate into the trash and drops the plate into the sink. “I just don’t see what she could possibly want to hear from him. He’s going to gloat about what he did to her aunt.” He turns to me. “Are you sure you want to make that call?”
I look him dead in the eye. Are you afraid he’ll tattle on you? I wonder. I hit send.
“Allie, are you sure this is smart?” Talia asks.
“I guess we’ll find out,” I say. The phone rings once, twice. My palms are sweating. Talia’s right. This is stupid. I could give something away, blow our chance at catching him. I wipe my free hand on my pant legs. A third ring. I’m just about to hang up, and then someone answers. “Jamison.” I draw out the name. I want him to be aware that I know it. I want him to take it as the pathetic amount of knowledge it is. To him, I’m a girl throwing my best cards on the table, desperate, afraid. As long as I convince him he has the upper hand, I can’t cause that much damage.
“Who’s this?” the guy on the other end says in a gruff voice.
“I...” I can’t quite figure out if I’ve just woke him up or if he’s intentionally trying to throw me off. Either way, it worked. It doesn’t matter, I tell myself, swallowing quickly. You’re supposed to sound frazzled. “It’s Allie. You called me on my dead aunt’s phone.”
I can almost hear him brighten. “Ah! Damn, Allie. It is good to finally put a voice with that face.”
The scoff is out before I can help it. “Is that supposed to unnerve me?”
“Allie, Allie, Allie,” he says in a chastising tone. I don’t like the way my name sounds in his mouth. The intimate way it rolls across his tongue. Across the counter, Ploy’s watching me, no doubt analyzing every word he can from my end of the conversation. Hearing Jamison speak makes me feel physically ill. I can’t listen and look at Ploy at the same time.
Before I go on, I have to close my eyes. “This is Jamison, isn’t it?”
“Did you expect me to be in jail?” he asks. “Your little stunt with the tires gave the police something to look into, but that car was reported stolen over a month ago. I was long gone before either they or the fire department showed up anyway.” There’s a pause. “You do know about the fire at the house?”
Hatred blisters inside me. I want to tell him we’re coming for him. That the people I’m sending will take away everything he loves, just like he did to me. That we’ll hunt them all down. Exterminate them. But I’m caught in the sudden memory of standing in the woods, Ploy tugging my arm as I realized the house was on fire, Sarah’s corpse burning inside.
“Why?” My voice cracks on the single word, my pain on display. “Couldn’t you even let me bury her?” From beside me, Ploy mumbles a word too low to catch but dripping with fury. Jamison isn’t the only one this act is affecting.
“To keep you on the run. Without your aunt or a place to hole up, eventually you’ll get tired of running. And when you do, I’m here to talk.”
“Murderer,” I snarl into the phone.
“You, too,” he says. “Tell me, did you consider bringing Corbin back after you shot him full of holes? Did you think about his kids? His wife?” Dead air fills the line. I didn’t shoot that man. Ploy did and blamed it on me, hid it from Jamison. Already, I’m coming out of this conversation with more intel than I had going into it.
Kids, I think. A wife. And they’ll never see their father again because of me. The phone in my hand is slick from my sweaty palm. “I was protecting myself. I’m not a murderer,” I say. Focus, I command myself. I can’t let him unravel me so easily. “I’m not like you. We’re not the same.” The words sound weak, petulant. “You’re a coward, sending—”
I cut off, my eyes flicking to Talia in horror. I’d almost said it. Sending Ploy to do your dirty work.
“Coward?” he says in surprise. In the span of silence, Jamison’s anger breaks. “I’m a coward? For letting you live?”
“Oh please! Don’t act like you’re in control. You don’t even know where we are.” We’ve watched Ploy. Made sure he hasn’t been able