Free Wish Her Well by Meg Silver Page A

didn’t want to take his eyes off hers long enough to answer.
    Behind them, Scott complained, “You been checking that phone every ten seconds for the last ten hours and now you’re gonna ignore it? Dude.”
    Thomas’s brow let a flicker of frown through before he finally pulled the phone from his pocket to glance at the display. Quick inhale. Shift of his shoulders. Very obvious this was a call he’d been waiting for.
    His, “I gotta take this,” was completely unnecessary. Then he made a miniscule motion with his chin and eyes toward Scott.
    She wasn’t sure exactly what Thomas wanted. Watch Scott? Entertain him? Easily done, either way. She went to sit beside Scott at the desk, relieved and maybe even a little flattered that he could be so relaxed around her. “What are you guys waiting on?”
    “Bunch of stuff. How come you’re here?”
    “I missed Thomas’s sunny disposition. Nothing major.”
    “You sure? No offense, but you look kinda stressed out compared to last time.”
    Last time they’d been together had been the boat ride around the lake. God, what a lot had happened since then.
    She sighed and looked down at the mess on Thomas’s desk. Files, mostly. Lots of printer paper. Reports of some kind, with pictures. One of them showed Brent, the guy with the three-day-long interrogation fantasy. Why the report? Part of his background check maybe? Wasn’t it a little late for that, since he was already a client?
    She reached for the stack of papers to take a look and maybe discern what the reports were about. Flipping to the next and examining another single sheet, her eyes centered on a grainy inkjet-printed picture of Andrew West.
    What the heck? Frowning now, she fanned to the next report. Another familiar face on this one: the guy who’d gotten fired from Fantasy Heights in the recent purge for blowing a blood alcohol level higher than the legal driving limit.
    Scott, with his cheek mushed up from the way it lay propped on his fist, warned her. “Better not mess with that stuff.”
    She nodded, but flipped to the next page anyhow, and the face she found there peaked her interest: Observer. The one who’d been on duty while she’d been with her mystery client.
    A devious thought burst to life. This guy could identify her mystery client. If she could find this observer, talk to him, play things cool enough, she could find out who Thomas was protecting.
    Hoping for a phone number or address, she took a closer look at the report, and soon discerned the connection between them all. They were internal Fantasy Heights documents generated upon termination of employment. The observer had been fired in the last purge, too.
    Great. She clicked her tongue and set down the reports, leaning back against Thomas’s chair until she realized Brent’s photo didn’t fit. He was a client. They didn’t terminate clients, they banned them.
    Sitting up once more, she scanned his report. Brent Johnson was not just a client. He had worked at the resort. He was the IT guy, the computer tech fired for mishandling resources and breaching confidentiality.
    Weird. The ten code thing had been an awfully elaborate fantasy for a staffer, but she supposed the premise made sense. Brent was into programming, after all, and the fantasy centered around computers.
    Odd coincidence, however. This was the fantasy that made Ridley file a complaint.
    “Hmph,” she grunted.
    “What?” Scott asked.
    “Nothing. I didn’t realize Brent was staff, is all. Derek and I did a fantasy with him, once.”
    Scott tilted his head to look at her, mashing his face up even more. “Huh?”
    “Yeah. A couple weeks ago. Maybe a month.”
    “No, you didn’t.”
    “Did too. It was the fantasy that got me and Derek reported.”
    Scott sat up and began to rifle through other piles of reports, irritated. “What the fuck, man? Are you sure it was him? Do you remember the date?”
    She thought back and did her best to guess-timate. “Why is this a