The Whispering Dead (Gravekeeper #1) - Darcy Coates Page 0,38
head loll back in exaggerated frustration. “But c’mon. I gave you the benefit of the doubt yesterday, thinking maybe you just really, really liked rice, but then you had to admit this morning that you couldn’t afford a can of cat food. I don’t let my friends starve.”
Keira tried to come up with a retort, but the best she could manage was “Who said we’re friends?”
“I did, idiot. Eat the damn food.”
Pride tried to argue. The food was charity, and that made her an inconvenient liability. The tally of people Keira intended to one day pay back was growing rapidly, but she knew Zoe was right. The day you can’t buy cat food is the day to get over your ego and accept some help. She picked up the fork and cut a corner off the pancake. “So the mobile phone’s for coordinating secret meetings and getaway cars, right?”
Animation flooded back into Zoe’s face. “Oh, yeah! And the best thing—the government doesn’t know about it. It’s prepaid. I bought it in the city while wearing a fake mustache, then removed any parts that could be used for tracking. There’s absolutely no way to trace it back to us.”
“That’s a joke, right?”
Zoe snorted. “Please. It’s important to ensure all aspects of your life are as anonymous as possible. Anyone who’s still on the grid when the machines reach sentience is going to have a really, really bad day.”
“Of course.” Keira had a lot she wanted say to that but swallowed it. “Thanks.”
Zoe looked genuinely pleased. “Anytime. Ready to go through some of my theories?”
“Absolutely.”
A folder came out of the bag. Zoe managed to squeeze it between the plates and began leafing through. Keira peeked at the turning pages and saw a bizarre mix of arcane symbols, Illuminati eyes, a language that looked suspiciously like Elvish, a map of Madagascar, and blurry photos of what were presumably flying saucers.
“I was up researching most of the night,” Zoe said, pausing to linger over a lovingly rendered depiction of a Lovecraftian monstrosity. “To be fair, though, that describes most of my nights. But I researched extra hard last night and have some pretty compelling theories. How much do you know about the freemasons?”
“Oh, it’s Mason.”
Zoe frowned. “No. Freemasons. The organization that may or may not be responsible for the chemtrails over Portugal last year.”
“No, I mean Mason—he’s here.” Keira craned to see through the crowd. Mason had come through the café’s door and was placing his order with Marlene.
“Aw crap!” Zoe shot a glance toward the counter, then grabbed the top of Keira’s head and tried to force her down. “Okay, he’s definitely stalking you. Hide under the table. I’ll distract him while you make your escape.”
“Ow, please, cut that out. He’s obviously here to have lunch.” Keira had underestimated Zoe’s strength and had to fight to stay above the table.
The commotion caught Mason’s attention, and a smile brightened his face as he saw them. He passed several notes to Marlene, motioning for her to keep the change, and began to make his way toward their table.
“Damn it!” Zoe snapped forward again, her eyes as round as saucers. “Okay. This is okay. Play it cool, Keira. Don’t let him know we suspect him.”
“Keira! It’s good to see you in town. You’ve met Zoe, I see.”
Zoe shot him a glare that would have melted steel beams. “Keep your grubby hands off my friend, murderer.”
So much for playing it cool. Keira wished she’d sunk under the table after all. She opened her mouth to apologize to Mason, but the English language didn’t even contain half the words she needed to express what she felt.
To her surprise, Mason appeared unfazed. He beamed at Zoe. “Murderer? Please, I’m not a fool. No one in town can string together evidence like you. If I were in the habit of killing people, there’s no way I would have let you live long enough to incriminate me.”
Zoe was silent for a moment as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Then she nodded as though the situation had been resolved and patted Keira’s arm. “He makes a good point. It’s probably safe to trust him again.”
Mason bent closer to Keira, his expression perfectly serious. “Or is it?” He winked. “Would the pair of you like any company for lunch?”
Zoe shrugged. “We’re going through theories for how Keira ended up here. Find yourself a seat and try not to sound as ignorant as you are, ignoramus.”