Free Riders by Veronica Rossi Page A

action surprised me. The ferocity in it.
    “Don’t ever call me crazy again,” she said, her voice low and shaky. She stood a moment longer, like she was going to say something else. But she didn’t.
    She backed away and made for the beach.
    It took me half an hour to move from that spot. A full thirty minutes before I went after her. When I found her, things between us didn’t really get any better.

 
    C HAPTER 12
    Cordero raises a hand.
    I stop and the pine room filters back to me as the beach fades away.
    It’s quiet in here. Cordero is legitimately gaping at me. Behind her, Texas and Beretta wear identical you-gotta-be-kidding-me expressions.
    “War?” Cordero says. “War, as in the embodiment of the concept?”
    “That’s me.” A chemical taste is seeping in my mouth from the drugs. I swallow, but it doesn’t go away. “In the flesh.”
    Texas catches a laugh in his throat and tries to cover it with some coughing. Beretta blinks fast a few times. I get the feeling he’s trying not to smack his partner.
    Cordero sends them a quick, annoyed glance. She looks back at me and sighs, absently scratching her knuckles. “War,” she says, more to herself than to me. Then she removes a cell phone from her blazer and checks it. “I have to step out, but I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Her eyes mouth curves. “Don’t move.”
    What do you know? She’s got a sense of humor.
    “So you piss people off? That it?” Texas says, once she’s gone. His voice is all easygoing drawl, but his posture is rigid and his blue eyes are intense.
    “Something like that.”
    A grin appears. Half of one. “I’m thinkin’ I got that superpower myself.”
    “Hey, kid. The necklace.” It’s Beretta now. Look at that. Cordero leaves and the vibe’s totally different. “The one the girl was wearing. It’s significant, isn’t it?”
    It’s an observant question. Impressive, even for a guy who’s probably trained to pick up stuff like that. But I’m not answering without Cordero here.
    He tries again. “What’s really going? ’Cause you ? As one of the four horsemen ?”
    That’s technically incorrect. I thought I was pretty clear about being an incarnation of War. But again. Not taking the bait. “You really want to be the guy that compromises this investigation?”
    Beretta snorts. “You mean this fairy tale? But I’ll hand it to you—you got a good imagination.”
    Texas tips his chin, already smiling at what he’s going to say. “There’s gonna be horses soon, right? I can’t wait. My family trains cuttin’ horses. Best in North Texas. I’m guessin’ they wouldn’t stack up to War’s horse.”
    “Probably not.”
    “I’d be disappointed otherwise.” He shifts his weight, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Least tell us what Death ’s like. We’re dyin’ to know.”
    “Good one.” I’m actually starting to like the guy. He reminds me of Cory. “You could find out.”
    “Yeah, how’s that?” he asks.
    “You brought us in together from Norway. Marcus is right next door, isn’t he?”
    Texas shakes his head like nice try . He won’t give up any intel either. But even in his silence, I get the sense he’s met Marcus, and that Marcus made a lasting first impression. As he tends to.
    These guys aren’t supposed to be talking to me. Or maybe they were, and I failed to give them what they were after. Either way they go quiet, setting up in their positions again like drying concrete. Party’s over.
    I’m thirsty again. So thirsty my head’s starting to pound, but as long as my stomach doesn’t get involved, I’m good. My knees ache from sitting in this chair.
    Behind me the radiator goes on, giving yet another encore performance. Tink, tink, tink, tink. The warmth slowly comes up on my back. Hard worker, that heater. The bulb, on the other hand, is doing a flickering thing, showing some signs of fatigue. You’re losing, bulb.
    Weird that I was in Norway yesterday, probably. Now