Page 28 of Dark Wishes

He draws himself up on the bench, neck bunching, frown becoming a wretched shape. “Really.”

“Yeah, it’s the easiest, most direct method.” I chew more of my burger, waiting for him to say something. When he just sits there brooding I slow my chewing. “Wait,” I say, swallowing. “You don’t like the idea of me showing off my boobs to get close to Caruso.”

His eyebrows draw together tightly. “I couldn’t care less.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, unconvinced. “Whatever. Even if it did bother you—”

“It doesn’t.”

“I’m still doing it. The issue is making sure Caruso will meet with me alone. Just showing up looking sexy doesn’t mean they won’t shoo me off or have someone else talk to me about making videos. I can lie pretty well, but the longer we chat, the more chances they’ll figure out I’m not who I say I am.”

“Yes, that part is a problem,” he agrees.

“Is it safe to check their website for how to like, audition or whatever?”

“Not on our phones.”

Picking a shred of lettuce off my wrapper, I crush it in my fingers. “Ugh. A visit to Rory again.”

“You don’t sound happy about that,” he notes.

“I’m not.”Rory told me awful things about Jamison. He’s just a messenger, but... if I didn’t know, everything would be easier,I think resentfully.

Jamison sets his elbows on the picnic table, his lips quirked in a mild grin. “So youweren’ta fan of his dungeon.”

Initially I’m lost, but then it clicks. “Is that what you thought when I talked about your house? God, no, I was relieved it wasn’t like his creepy little den.”

He seems a little pleased. “There’s someone else we can go to for basic, public facing info. They can’t get us the kind of back-door details Rory does, but it should be plenty.”

“Who’s that?” I ask eagerly.

Jamison rises, tossing his trash into the rusted, black cannister next to the fence that separates us from falling over the rocks to the waves below. “Finish your burger, we have more driving to do.”

The trip through congested traffic is broken up by us taking turns flipping through music on my phone. Jamison tolerates my alt rock, but visibly grimaces at any anime soundtrack I pop on. A shame, because a few are real bangers.

I’m more than a little surprised when we park outside the familiar tattoo shop.

“Here?” I ask.

“The computer at the front is on a secure VPN.” He exits the car, talking as he goes; I hurry to follow him. “We employ a very trustworthy someone for this type of web search.” When we enter the shop, the raven-haired woman lifts her head. “Iris.”

“Whoa, were you talking about me a minute ago?” she asks warily. “My ears were burning.”

“You have good intuition,” I say.

Her smile creates a dimple on one cheek. “Nah, it’s just that Jamison always has me do leg work for him that he could do on his own.”

“I’ll be doing it myself today,” he says.

“No, you won’t, becauseheis going to want to talk to you.”

Jamison glances at the door in the corner. The person inside must be watching us on the cameras, because it swings outward without anyone knocking. “Jamison, get your ass in here.”

He remains where he is; I get the impression he’s deciding if we can retreat.

“Tusk has been in a bad mood all day,” Iris whispers.

So that’s his name,I think, tuning in to not miss any new bits of info. Jamison has been trying to keep me out of the loop about his companions, but Iris is more casual. I watch him for his reaction—he gives no hint he’s concerned.

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