Chapters (95)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Video #1
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Video #2
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Video #3
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- The Final Video
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“The door’s on the other side,” Mike says, gesturing with his head. “I say we go around the back instead of crossing in front of the garage.”
I give him a thumbs-up. We walk the perimeter—first along the side of the garage we’re on and then around the back. We move carefully. Three garbage cans and an old wheelbarrow make it an obstacle course for us. At the far corner I peek around at the house. Still no movement inside. There’s a light above the door to the garage, but it’s turned off. A break.
“Why don’t I go and open it,” I say. “Then I’ll signal you.”
“Okay, Jason Bourne.”
“What’s the code?”
Mike’s eyes get bigger. “Oh. It’s Chloe’s birthday. 0-2-1-8.”
I remember Chloe saying it was a special birthday because she’d be turning eighteen on the eighteenth. “That only happens once.”
Would she ever get to celebrate it?
I crouch again and slink along the side of the garage, keeping my eyes on the house. I reach the keypad and take another quick glance at the house. I drop flat on the ground.
Scott is in the large kitchen window. He’s wearing a Garrett Morgan sweatshirt and carries a mug of tea or coffee. He pauses, presses his face against the glass, and looks outside.
Right at me.
I’m frozen on the ground, pressed as flat as my body can get. The grass is wet against my face. Scott continues to stare out at the night. Then he turns and walks away from the window.
Relief surges through me like cool water.
I push myself up, my fingers shaking, and enter the code.
The knob doesn’t budge. I check the window, looking for Scott, and see nothing. I enter the code again, being more careful than ever.
No go.
I look down the length of the garage. Mike’s head appears. I shrug. He shrugs back.
If it’s not Chloe’s birthday, it could be anything. It could be Scott’s best friend from kindergarten’s birthday. It could be four random numbers.
Laura’s birthday was in August. I went to the party along with a million other relatives and friends. August 16.
So I try that: 0-8-1-6.
Nothing.
I look at Basher again. He leaves his position behind the back wall of the garage and rushes over to me. We speak in whispers so low I can barely hear him.
“What’s Scott’s birthday?” I ask.
“How the hell do I know? I say we leave. Abort mission.”
“No, Mike. Think. When’s his birthday?”
“I don’t know.” His forehead wrinkles. “Wait. He went to a car show on his birthday last year. He offered to take me, but I had practice.”
“April then?” I ask.