Page 23 of One Cry Too Loud (Coastal Crime Unit #9)

T ag looked from the back of the van we were in, his eyes narrowing as he took in the duplex where Joe was apparently living these days. The young man had a look of disappointment on his face as he shook his head.

“Harry told me that you guys had a lot of architectural flair down here, but I have to say, I’m not seeing much of it,” Tag said.

He swiveled around in the office chair sitting in the back of what was basically a delivery van.

It was covert enough to not draw much attention.

That way, if Eli was telling the truth and we were getting the jump on Joe, we’d still have the element of surprise on our side.

More than that, the kid needed a bit of room to work his cyber magic.

In addition to having that damn phone that seemed to be able to do everything back in New Orleans, he had a computer setup as well.

“We usually do,” I replied, looking at the industrial looking duplex myself and figuring that it almost certainly used to be some other kind of establishment that had been renovated into living spaces. “This is a rare exception.”

“Figures,” Tag said. He shook his head. “I can’t wait to get back home. I’m aching for some pretty landscapes and proper andouille.”

“This place has God’s handprints all over it. It would take heaven to be more beautiful,” I answered. “And we have sausage.”

“No you don’t,” Tag said. “Not really.”

“Let’s focus up. We don’t know what we’re heading into here,” Charlie replied, his eyes trained on the duplex. “I’m seeing a single car here, which either means that Joe is out, the people who live under Joe are out, or this is all a trap and we’re about to walk right into it.”

“ I’m about to walk right into it,” I corrected. “You’re staying put until we get that question answered.”

“And what if the answer to that question comes too late?” Charlie asked. His eyes cut toward me. “What if you don’t see whatever this is coming? What if I don’t get to you in time?”

“This isn’t our first time at this, Charlie. You’ve never not gotten to me in time,” I said. “In fact, you’ve never disappointed me at all.”

“Really? Because the way I see it, the last time I tried to help you, I almost got myself killed,” he said.

“Almost getting ourselves killed is the nature of the job. We’ve both got the scars to prove that,” I said. “Besides, you didn’t try to help me. You did help me. You saved my ass actually.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not liking this line of questions, though. Are you doubting yourself?”

He shook his head. “I never doubt myself about what I do, about what I know. But this time is different. We’re in Holly’s world. I’m afraid I might not have the imagination necessary to guess what’s coming this time.”

“That’s why we have the kid,” I said, throwing a thumb in Tag’s direction.

“I can drink a beer, vote for president, and die in war. I’m not a kid,” Tag said.

“Who’s Bob Seger?” I asked.

“The Secretary of State?” He replied.

“You’re a kid,” I replied. “And you’re an ass of a kid at that, but you’re talented.”

“Look at that, a compliment from Jack Harrington. I guess I can mark that off my bucket list,” Tag muttered.

“We are taking a risk with you, though,” I said.

“I figured there was a second act to that compliment,” the kid said.

“You did a good job of hiding us from Nefarious by duplicating our virtual presence or whatever. You even did a good job of hiding us while we visited ALice Masters, given that we figured Nefarious would be looking there too. I’m still not quite sure how you did that.”

“I took a day’s worth of previous security footage, tampered with its metadata to make it look current and ran it on a loop for the duration of your time at the Masters’ house.

It’s pretty rudimentary stuff. I mean, that’s what the bad guy did in the movie Speed.

” He smiled in my direction, the same cocky smile he always had. “See? I know some old stuff.”

“These computers, they’re going to put us on the grid, though,” I said, ignoring his last comment. “If-”

“Nefarious is not getting through my security systems,” Tag said.

“If he did it the first time-”

“He didn’t do it the first time,” Tag said. “I’m not quite sure how those two freaks with the bow and arrows found us in the swamp, but it wasn’t because of my system.”

“Good, because if it was, we’re basically sitting ducks,” I said.

“And why be sitting ducks when you can be lemmings?” Charlie asked. “Marching toward the cliff.”

“You really think this is a trap?” I asked.

“I think it’s a really good possibility,” he answered. “It feels like a trap.”

“You guys have been trapped so much that you know what it feels like just through proximity?” Tag asked, rolling his eyes. “No wonder you got cancelled.”

“We didn’t get cancelled. There were budget cuts,” I replied.

“Aren’t there always?” Tag replied.

“Stick to the plan,” I said, once again ignoring the kid. “Charlie, you stay here until you get the word from me. Tag, you keep those keypads warm. Hopefully, I won’t need either of you.”

“You will need this, though,” Tag said, handing me a tiny white box.

“What is this?” I asked, opening the box up and seeing a single contact lens floating in clear liquid.

“You remember the glasses I gave you back in New Orleans, the ones that let me see what you were seeing and provided a cyber overlay?” Tag asked. “Well, this is the upgrade.”

“If I remember correctly, I hated them so much that I think I threw them away,” I said.

“You did, and the seven thousand dollars they cost to produce,” Tag said.

“We didn’t hold it against you, though. In any event, it’ll give you an extra layer of intel, and it’ll allow Charlie and I to see what you’re seeing in real time.

Charlie won’t have to worry about not getting to you in time.

He’ll see what you see exactly when you do, and if he thinks he needs to intervene-”

“I can come charging in like the bull I am,” Charlie replied. He looked over at me. “Put it in your eye, Jack.”

“I hate this stupid stuff,” I muttered, but I did as Charlie asked.

Plucking the lens from the liquid, I popped it into my eyes.

Blinking it into place, I saw an overlay appear immediately.

In front of me, at the edge of my peripheral vision, the make and model of the van we sat in pulled up.

When I looked at Charlie and Tag, their names pulled up as well as their ages and other information.

Their occupations, however, showed as REDACTED, which made sense.

“The things I do for justice,” I muttered, blinking and feeling the itch right up against my eyeball.

“I guess that’s why everyone calls Jack Harrington a hero,” Tag said, and I couldn’t really tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. No matter. I had a job to do, and it was go time.

“No,” I answered. “If Joe is in here, if he’s Nefarious, and if he’s got that little girl, then you’ll see why everyone calls Jack Harrington a hero.”

And, with that, I got out of the van and headed toward my destination.