Prank Wars (41 page)

The waitress stared at me. “Are you wearing a wig?”

“She’ll take a cheese sandwich,” Byron said. He plucked my menu out of my hand and thrust both our menus at the surprised girl. He was really taking his part as sexist pig to heart. I glared at him. “Make it nice and burnt on both sides.” He gave me a sly smile. “Just like your mom’s home cooking, darling.”

“Your ma!” I said after the waitress was out of earshot. I hoped he got that I was insulting him.

“What? This was your idea.” Byron switched to his normal bored voice, but he still lounged on his seat like a womanizing hick. His eyes were alert, however, and his gaze swept the room. “I’m just making it more believable.”

“Really? Because I thought you were a lot better at your covers than this?”

He hesitated for a second. “That’s an insult, right?”

I rolled my eyes.
Apparently not
. “You’d better share your biscuits and gravy with me because I’m not eating a burnt cheese sandwich. I’m the one who’s starving, remember?”

He watched me, not listening. “No offense,” he said once I was done moving my mouth, “but I like your dark hair better.”

I stared at him. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you’re going to eat anyway.” I scooted indignantly away from him, which only made him laugh. “Just admit you’re up to something. We’re not here because you’re hungry. I know you better than that.”

“You are so suspicious, Byron—just not enough. Okay. What makes you think Thanh is safe?”

His eyes grew weary. “I told you she was.”

“What if I proved otherwise?”

“Unbelievable, Madeleine. Is that why you dragged us here?”

If I admitted that, would he drag me back out? Before I could answer, the waitress plopped gravy and biscuits on the table in front of him then gave me my cheese sandwich. It was well-done, but at least it wasn’t black. Before I could switch it out for Byron’s biscuits and gravy, I remembered I hadn’t eaten all day, and took a huge bite. The waitress left and I gave Byron my most innocent look. “See, I’m eating.” I spilled some cheese on my “
I'm with Stupid”
shirt.

“Nice touch. All over your Sunday best.”

I tried to scrape it off, but it was there to stay the night. I glanced up at Byron, and saw that he was still watching me. I knew I had to buy myself more time. “All those pranks,” I asked. “Did you do
any
of them?”

“Only the good ones.” He gave me a secretive smile.

The door opened from outside, and the wind along with a loud group of BYU students barged their way into Denny’s.
All girls and one guy.
I knew exactly who it was without looking, especially when I heard that loud bellowing laugh. Cameron filled the doorway in all his Abercrombie glory, battered pre-beat jeans and all. The girls danced around him in cut-off jeans and skirts. I tried to slink into my seat to hide. We weren’t the only ones going to Denny’s as rednecks.

“Don’t worry.” Byron looked amused. “I don’t think he’ll recognize you, Pippi.” Cameron hadn’t with my blonde look. Still the more hideous I looked, the more of a chance I had of blowing my cover. Byron met my eyes. “I’ll take him out if he tries anything. You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”

After a moment, I nodded. Byron looked surprised and I shrugged to deflate his head. “It’s just a cover. You do that all the time, right?” His grin broadened and he eased a little to the side to enjoy the show. The waitress released the booth next to ours to Cameron and his little harem. One of his girls had a giggle on her. They made it hard to properly scope out the restaurant. “You get all sorts of culture here,” I muttered under my breath.

Byron finished his biscuits and wiped his lips with his napkin. “You ready to go?”

I planted my feet in my converses, munching slowly on my sandwich. The door opened again and I watched a happy couple walk inside. Nope. Too happy. It was impossible to get a good look at everyone from our booth. “What time is it?” I asked

Byron checked his watch. “June 6th. Your ill-fated anniversary, Miss Havisham. This wasn’t exactly the party I had planned for you.”

I felt my stomach lurch, but not for the reasons I thought it would two days ago.
They were meeting here at midnight.
I pulled out Thanh’s cell phone, seeing he was right. It was midnight. The restaurant bubbled with suspects, and Byron wasn’t taking any of this seriously. I rested the cell phone against my cheek, trying to decide what to do. That guy’s number was on Thanh’s cell. I found a
formerly blocked
call and pressed reply. A phone went off somewhere behind us. I twisted, seeing the back of a blond head, a tanned neck, and broad shoulders. The target sat at a table with another guy, whose head was tilted away from us. They both searched their pockets. The happy little ringtone could’ve come from either of them, which meant they worked together.

“Gotcha.” I closed the phone and the ringing stopped. I met Byron’s eyes. “The suspect is here.”

“Excuse me. What?”

“One of those guys at that table over there,” I disclosed. “I just called him.” I leaned over the table to Byron. After a confused look, he met heads with me. “I made a deal with this guy to get Thanh back. Funny thing is why would he do that if he worked
with you
? He stopped bothering me after you released the decoy. He’s not a nice guy. He left threatening messages on her phone...all the time.”

“Wait.” Byron looked confused. “You talked to somebody else besides me?”

“Yes. He said he had Thanh. Why would he lie about that?”

“I’m sure it’s a—”

“Set up,” I finished for him. “You have to believe me. Your superiors are lying to you.” My phone vibrated. The jerk tried to call me back, but I was too smart to leave the ringer on. I texted him back.
“We’re onto you...White Hawk.”

I held my message up to Byron with a sly smile and pushed send. Byron was seconds too late before he pulled it from my grasp. “Don’t!”

“He has Thanh,” I explained.

“I told you
we
did.”

“Did you see her with your own eyes?”

“Look, this isn’t how we work. I do my job. They do theirs. I’m not involved in every part of the…” He took a steadying breath. “We shouldn’t be here. If this is a sting, we’re gonna compromise their mission. We need to get out of here.”

The blond was on his cell phone and he stood up from the table, looking out the window into the darkness. He had cargo pants and Nikes. I recognized his profile immediately. “Eric.”

Byron’s hand landed over mine. “Wait! Don’t move. He’s in on this, alright.”

“He works with you?”

Byron ran a hand through his hair—only to find that stupid wig. He didn’t remove it, especially now. “No. And we never figured out how you wound up with him in the first place.”

“He’s Sandra’s friend…and your roommate, Rock’s?”

Byron shook his head at me. “He was the x factor. Sources told us that we had an information leak, but who it was remained a mystery. That’s when we were sent to watch over Thanh. We didn’t know his identity until he showed up with you.”

“You knew he was dangerous and you let him follow me around. Are you crazy?”

“We had to figure out if you were in on this too.”

“What? Me?”

“Oh c’mon! Eric made arrangements to do a physiology experiment at the Eyring building? Really, Mad? It’s only engineering over there. The fact that you didn’t know that made you suspect.” He motioned for the waitress to bring the check.

“—because everybody knows that,” I slurred sarcastically. “I’m a General Studies major. Give me a break.”

“Look, when the target transferred from the U…”

“Well, why didn’t you say that from the beginning? He’s a hardened criminal then.”

He leveled an annoyed look at me. The waitress set our check down and flounced off. Byron pulled out some cash from his wallet, keeping his voice down. “He was a surprise to us too. He was the one who left the threatening note on Thanh’s door. I only started tailing him at
Battle of the Bands
. If it means anything, Mad, I always thought you were clean. Of course, it would’ve made you more interesting if you weren’t.”

My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?

He chuckled low under his breath. “Mad, no, I’m really glad you’re on our side.”

“Because I’d take you out otherwise.”

His expression took on a challenging glint. “That would’ve been the fun part...but honestly, I’ve never—” He got silent and I pulled an eyebrow up to get an answer out of him. He let out a breath of surrender. “I’ve never had more fun with an ally, so it actually would’ve sucked if you were on the wrong side. Okay?” I smiled. He considered me an ally? He tugged on my hand. “Let’s go.”

The door opened from the outside and another of my favorite people made her grand entrance. As always Sandra wore her heels, the straps spiraled in zigzags around her ankles. She tore big sunglasses from her face, posing at the door to search out the restaurant, clutching her LV designer bag in a fierce grip. I ducked, more terrified than I had been all night. We were going to blow her cover. “She’s going to kill us, isn’t she?”

Byron wasn’t listening. He had grown stiff. “What’s she doing here?”

As soon as Sandra spotted Eric, she gave him a brilliant smile she never reserved for her roommates, only for cute guys…and double crossing criminals at that. Eric pulled out a seat and she made her elegant way to him, sitting across from him with daintily crossed legs. The other guy at Eric’s table greeted her, giving me an excellent view of his face. He had nondescript face and hair, could easily get lost in a crowd. It all connected in my head. I recognized him from the gym. “All these assets are working together to catch the guy threatening Thanh?” And I had bumbled into their way over and over again. I was worse than a third wheel.

Byron glanced over, looking irritated, but not at me. “What’s Hölle doing here?”

I made a face. “Holly?”
The
Holly
that Byron had been calling? That was no name for a guy, which made me even more fascinated. “Good cover.”

“No, it’s his real name. I work for him. Ian Hölle.”

Oh no. Byron was right. They were already taking care of things. I was way over my head. “Okay, let’s get out of here,” I whispered.

“Sit down…and keep that stupid wig on. None of these people are supposed to be here. Eric has the control box already.”

“That’s how you did it? You took the
decoy
out of my backpack and left it behind in the lab for Eric to find?”

“If I hadn’t caught up with you tonight, you’d be dead. He never would’ve let you leave with it alive.”

Oh.
That was a disturbing thought. “And now they’re trying to gain his trust?—find the others who work with him?”

“No!” Byron shook his head furiously, but kept his voice down. “Not those two. It’s not their job. Sandra and Hölle were supposed to escort Thanh to a safe house.”

Hölle
swept the room with a long and hard look. Byron took my hand calmly, giving me an intimate smile. “Look at me.” His fingers tangled through mine, but I had enough sense to keep up the act. With the worst disguises in history, this would take a lot to make it look real. Despite the danger, my skin reacted to his touch. I took a steadying breath. “Well, I suppose this is keeping you preoccupied,” Byron said under his breath. “Thanks to you, that was my job for the day.” His eyes watched me tenderly, and for once I wondered if it wasn’t all part of the act.

“Going on a date with another woman?” I whispered. “That’s how you keep a girl preoccupied?”

He gave me a tense smile. Of course it did. “The date with Sandra also doubled as a debriefing,” he said. “They were keeping us both busy while they did their dirty work.” He let out a frustrated sound. “No. Don’t look back.” Apparently Hölle was still acting as look-out. I couldn’t see what was happening and the tension was killing me. Byron was kind enough to narrate for me, probably to stop me from turning back and transforming into a pillar of salt. “He’s giving her something in a briefcase.”

“He’s returning the control box. He feels guilty.”

He snorted at my sarcasm. If Sandra and Hölle were supposed to escort Thanh to safety, that meant they had her somewhere close by—but where? We had absolutely nothing to bargain with to get Thanh back. If they had lied to Byron about why they had Thanh, they had lied about the control box too. “Byron,” I said. “The control box wasn’t a decoy, was it?”

He shook his head slowly. I felt my heart sink. Now it was in the wrong hands. But what was it for? Would a lot of people die because we got the box for them? Byron’s eyes didn’t leave Hölle’s table. “I need to figure out what they’re up to.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “You need to leave and tell someone what’s going on.” He grew silent, thinking hard. “I don’t know who to trust at headquarters. Just call the cops, alright?” I tried not to panic. No police officer would take me seriously, especially Brady and Oliveira. Byron squeezed my hand. “Under law, they have to investigate your claim. Tell them it’s a domestic abuse problem…”

The waitress wandered over to us, carrying food for another table. “You
are
wearing a wig,” she accused. She held a tray with an order of salad without the dressing. That would be Sandra’s order.