Page 106 of Behind the Shadows

“I didn’t mean to worry him. I was visiting his mother.”

“Bet you were,” Dope said. “Hope that went well for you.”

Ella nudged me in the side with her elbow. She knew how it went already.

“Kip’s mother died today,” Ella said to Dope.

“Holy hell. Really?” His voice held a note of excitement.

“Really,” I added.

“It’s about damn time she returned to the pits of hell from whence she came.” Dope cackled, imitating a demon.

I couldn’t help but laugh. He was entertaining as hell.

Dope scrolled, the screen flying by. I wasn’t sure how he could see what he was looking for at that rate.

“What can I do for you, ladies?”

“Do you want to tell him, or do you want me to?” Ella asked gently.

Even though we were getting to know each other, I had a feeling Ella and I would become good friends. Deep friendships were developed over dark secrets just as much as the good times.

I sat up straight and squared my shoulders. “When I was visiting Lily the other day, she said that I … that I … was the Pied Piper’s biological daughter,” I blurted.

Dope’s hazel eyes popped open wide, and he stared at me with his mouth hanging open. It took him a moment before he closed it. “Shit. That was rude. I’m sorry. I don’t know why anything surprises me anymore. Fuck, I’ve seen it all. Done it all.”

“We need to verify that information, Dope. Lily lied and twisted the truth, so before we dive into the deep end of those shark-infested waters, we need proof. We figured you could help.”

Dope popped his knuckles. “Oh, hell yeah. I’m on it. But—” He held up a finger. “Would anyone like a beverage? Tea? Soda? A joint to chill you out while we see if your father is the most evil being ever born?”

“Dope,” Ella chided. “Really?”

Guilt flashed across his expression. “I’m on it.” He returned his attention to his computer, typing with a determined focus, the clicking was the only sound in the room for several minutes.

“Hmm.” He continued typing. “Hmm.” More typing.

I shot a glance at Ella, a little exasperated with his nonverbal comments.

She gave me a sheepish smile and mouthed “sorry”.

“Interesting,” he said.

Dope tapped the spacebar, leaned back in his chair, and scratched his chin.

“Almost in. If there’s a blood record buried in here, I’ll find it.”

My stomach twisted. I hadn’t slept. The skin under my eyes was so sensitive, I wondered if it was bruised.

“And you’re sure it’s here?” I asked.

He shot me a look, half stoned, half razor-sharp.

“These people kept records on everything. And I mean everything. If the Pied Piper sneezed, someone logged it.”

The screen flickered. A black window blinked to life—lines of code dancing like static on a broken TV.

“We’re in,” he muttered.