She gave a small, tight smile. “I guess he didn’t give a crap either way. He didn’t think of her as a person. He thought of her as a problem. A bomb. Just like you said. Something to ‘cover himself’ from.”

At her words, I felt my face stiffen, like someone had thrown cold water on it. The feeling spread to my chest, my gut. Deep down, was this how I really saw Brenae—not as a person, but as a problem? Was this how Alicia saw me seeing her? Alicia’s motivation to advise on Janis’s private investigation—was it really to keep things “legal,” or because she didn’t trust how we’d perceive the information we found?

All I knew was that Alicia had been there for us that night, no matter her own reservations.

She had gone to Nelson’s house to find me. The lights were all off. With her son in the car, she wouldn’t go down the driveway, so she called for backup. Two squad cars speeding for the Palisades while I was trying to climb through the gallery ceiling. When I dialed 911 from the Westing phone, I told them to contact Alicia. She was parked on the road above Nelson’s property, waiting for a search warrant. She immediately alerted dispatch to be on the lookout for anyone resembling Nelson and Layla.

The pair were caught at a gas station off the freeway, seventy miles from the Mexican border. Without Layla’s call to her father and the speed of Alicia’s response, they might have made it out of the country. Without me being locked with Ray in the hidden room at the Westing, Ray might have died. We had both fulfilled our missions that night. But I was lucky. Rash and lucky. I knew that. I was lucky there had been a way out for me. I bowed my head.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally. “You’re absolutely right.”

I felt Alicia tense, then sigh. Something nudged against my ribs, and I looked down to see her pushing her arm through mine, looping us together. She was actually much smaller than I was, and it was the first time I realized it, the way our ribs met, the bottom ridge of hers touching my waist.

“I know,” she said in such a bored tone that I had to laugh. She laughed, too.

After that, we relaxed and leaned into each other, listening to the honks of traffic and gazing together into the little jungle garden, waiting for news of Ray.

HE RESTED ON A WHITE bed, IV in one hand, other arm in a sling, the tube still in his mouth. The bruises on his face and neck had purpled, making a garish map on his handsome features, but he looked glad to see us. The nurse stood by, fiddling with his monitors.