Page 69 of The Mystery Writer

“He came back to talk about musicals and tell me to lock my door,” Mac said, rummaging in the cupboards.

“Don’t you usually?”

“Not to the house, to my bedroom. In case you or Theo tried to murder me in the night, I suppose.” Mac placed a box of cereal on the counter.

“So what did you do?”

“Told him I would—it was too late to listen to his latest fantasy. It was the easiest way to get him to go home.”

“As much as I want in on this conversation, I have to go!” Theo told them about the appointment as Gus poured her a cup of coffee.

“We’re supposed to be in hiding, Theo,” Gus said. “That doesn’t work if you send out change of address cards.”

“Veronica’s my agent…at least I hope she will be. I can’t mess this up…”

“Fair enough…but no one else, okay?”

“I promise.”

Mac opened a drawer in the kitchen and took out a mobile phone, which he handed her. “Leave yours here and take this one.”

“Why?”

“Because this one has its GPS tracker turned on, but only Gus and I know you have this phone. It means we’ll be able to find you, but no one else will.”

“Oh.” Theo took the phone. “This is a bit James Bond, isn’t it?”

Mac smiled. “More helicopter parent than Bond, but let’s be on the safe side.”

“Why do you have a spare spy phone?”

“It’s a perfectly ordinary phone with a few functions enabled,” Mac replied. “My brothers keep a few burners here for reasons that are too embarrassing to explain, but in this instance it’s handy.”

“Burners?”

“Phones that can be used and thrown away without a trace of the owner…generally favored by criminals and paranoid lunatics.”

Theo laughed as she slid the phone into her pocket. “Okay. Thank you.” She turned back as a thought occurred. “What if someone calls? What if the police—”

“They’ll call your attorney,” Gus said. “In fact, I’d prefer they go through me. But Theo”—he met her eyes earnestly—“be careful. I know this agency means a lot to you, but make this breakfast meeting short and try not to go anywhere public.”

“How about I suggest we get drive-through and sit in the car to eat it?”

“Perfect.”

“I was kidding.”

“Do it anyway.”

A black Porsche pulled into the driveway, and the video monitor showed Veronica Cole behind the wheel.

Gus stood. “I should probably walk you out.”

“Why?”

“To throw myself in the way of bullets.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

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