The Mysterious Stranger (The Confidence Game 3)

They could be affectionate inside, but not like this because Zeke could never be sure he wouldn’t give his feelings away by holding on too tight, too long, by letting how he felt about her show on his face. And neither of them needed that.

Rory flopped back into her seat and he waited till she got her other boot on and then pulled out and drove the short distance to the gate. Two men appeared as it opened. The one on Zeke’s side motioned for him to wind his window down.

“You Zack and Rosie Woods?”

“That’s us.”

“Drive through to that building.” He pointed to a small cabin in the distance, another yellow light illuminating its porch. Spencer is waiting for you.” He tapped the hood. “Leave the keys.”

Zeke nodded and eased the car forward whil

e Rory turned to watch the men at the gate. “That wasn’t exactly welcoming.”

Clang, clang. That was the sound of the gates closing. “We’re outsiders still. We have to earn their welcome.” Clang, clang. This car would disappear overnight under the guise of kindly returning it to the airport for them. A vehicle could be a weapon; could be an escape.

She snorted. “We paid for it with five-million plus.”

“Cheap at twice the price.” What banking and tax records they’d been able to scam up on Epcot were years old and showed hundreds of single deposits for large amounts. People had handed over inheritances, life savings, sold property and businesses, and trusted Epcot with their future. Their own contribution had been paid in cash, not easy to organize but Epcot got smart. He wasn’t leaving any more records.

He pulled up slowly in front of the cabin and shut the engine off. Spencer stood on the porch in all his you-can-trust-me-while-I sell-you-swampland-you-can-never-build-on glory.

“Showtime,” Rory said and pushed her door open.

Zeke did the same as Spencer stepped off the porch. “You made it,” the man said, hand outstretched for Zeke’s. “It’s quite a trip.” He came in for a hug and said, “Welcome to Abundance. Joining us is the best decision you’ve made in your life.” He stepped back, hands to Zeke’s biceps. “I know Orrin is going to be so pleased you’re here. He’ll arrive soon to interview you.” Spencer gave an offhand gesture. “It’s only a formality. Orrin trusts my word, but you know he has to be sure for himself that you’re the right kind of people.”

None of that was news. Zeke kept his eyes on Spencer and said, “I’m relieved to be here. This is my sister, Rosie.”

He watched Spencer school his response when he turned to her. He tried to see Rory as Spencer would. A ravishingly beautiful woman, her posture broadcasting uncertainty. An inspiration for love laments and epic poems. A life tragically fucked up by drugs, and raw clay to mold into the perfect little Continuer.

“Rosie, Zack has told me so much about you.”

Spencer wanted to touch Rory, it showed in his closed fists and the way he surveyed her, but he was disciplined and kept it to a brisk handshake. Rory mumbled a subdued hello and then they were unpacking the car together.

“You’ll stay in the welcome lodge tonight,” Spencer said. “Tomorrow I’ll give you the grand tour and assign you accommodation.”

“We want to stay together,” Rory said, making it sound like she was afraid of being separated.

“Of course. We wouldn’t dream of separating a loving family unit.”

Zeke would lay ten to one on being given accommodation as far as possible from each other, and from the look he snuck at Rory he could see she wouldn’t take that bet.

“Now’s the time to hand over anything you packed that’s not on the admission list. And yes, that means books. If they’re suitable, they’ll be available in the library. I’ll need to take your phones and laptops, any other electronic devices.”

“But you won’t keep them?” Rory asked, that nervous tremor in her voice that was so foreign and so right.

“You’ll find they’re not that interesting in here. And of course, we have no signal for cell phones or internet. All of our residents have completely detoxed from the influences of the outside world and you will too.”

A digital detox was almost reasonable except for the fact it permanently cut you off from information, knowledge and anyone who cared about you.

“Do you sing, Rosie, play an instrument?”

She played the guitar and piano. Honkytonk to Handel. She shook her head. “I brought my music with me.”

“You know I’m going to have to take your music player,” Spencer said. “I hate to say it,” he put on a stern expression, “but we’re a rap-free zone.”

“I hate rap,” Rory said, top lip curled in disdain.

She’d loved it last night. Her Cardi B was on point.