Trixsters Anonymous

“What’s the plan?” Marcus cracks his knuckles like we’re headed into a street fight.

“For now, act normal. We’ll let you know when you’re up.”

He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“How much of a lawyer are you?”

“There’s not a grading system. Either you’re a lawyer or you’re not. I’m very much a lawyer.”

“You probably don’t need to know Maren’s going to hack into the Charleston Law Enforcement system, hack into Cornelius’s computer, and monitor all communication. And you especially don’t want to know that I’m going to log into the hospital insurance system in every Beaufort hospital, looking for victims of gunshot wounds so I can start a file on names we can run through the police databases.”

“No, you’re wrong, I do want to know every single step, so if you two are caught, I can keep you out of jail.”

Maren and I exchange a look and nod our agreement. Right as I exit the car, the front door swings open and Micky bolts out, running straight to me. I brace for impact, planting my feet as he leaps, his strong paws landing on my shoulders. He licks my face repeatedly, ignoring Travis’s commands to get down.

“It’s okay, Travis. I think he senses I needed some attention.” I scrub Micky’s belly then ease him to the ground.

Maren, who’s heard all about the dog, bends and claps. He trots to her, nuzzling her outstretched hands.

I wipe the dog slobber off my face the best I can and rush into Leslie’s open arms. The second I’m in her embrace, she breaks down.

“He’s alive, Leslie. I have some details, but the most important thing is he’s alive.” She sobs in relief, and Travis comes to our side, gently taking her from me and leading her into the house.

Maren, Marcus, and I follow with Micky on my heels. Travis sits Leslie down on the sofa, keeping his arm draped around her shoulders.

I stoop down in front of them and grab her hands, repeating the story from the station. I swallow the lump in my throat when I get to the point of them being caught, reminding myself Walker’s a fighter.

“He went missing twice while he was in the Army,” she tells me through more tears, shocking me. “I didn’t think I’d live through it. Every second was agonizing.”

“Sweetheart, he wasn’t missing. He was off the radar for a few weeks,” Travis tells her quietly.

“That’s missing when it’s your baby boy!” she scolds him, jabbing him in the ribs.

The doorbell rings, sending Micky running to the window as Marcus goes to answer. My parents walk in, both weighed down with bags.

Marcus introduces himself and takes the load from my mom, who comes to where I’m still squatting. Without a word, she kneels and pulls me into a hug.

“Baby, have you heard anything?” The concern in her voice causes my eyes to prickle.

I lean back and repeat the story to her and Dad, whose expression is tense. I’ve seen this worried look before; he’s watching for signs of a meltdown.

“I’m okay, Dad,” I try to reassure him.

“Come here, Emi.” He extends one arm.

I dislodge from my mom’s hold and go to him, leaning into his side. Then I realize how rude I’ve been.

“Oh my! Mom, Dad, this is Leslie and Travis Scott, Walker’s parents.”

Dad goes to shake their hands while mom hugs them warmly.

“And I’m Maren!” Maren pipes in, waving to the room.

“Sorry.” I grimace, forgetting that she hadn’t met them before. “My mind was in the gutter.”

“Eh, your fiancé was taken hostage. I’ll forgive you.”

“Fiancé!” my mom shrieks so loud Micky barks and comes protectively to my side.