Page 100 of Full Contact

Two minutes later, Pickle answered.

Pickle: Hog says that’s the most terrifying thing anyone has ever told him.

I set the phone on the counter, picked up the magazine, and joined Trier on the couch.

He glanced toward the kitchen. “What about dinner?”

“You’ve read five extra chapters. I can read about an anchor.”

I opened the magazine to the sticky note. Trier settled his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers resting against my neck. Before I’d finished the first paragraph, he leaned over to point something out.

“I’m not there yet,” I said.

“You need to see the picture.”

I turned to look at him. He was close enough to kiss, so I did.

Chapter fifteen

Trier

By eleven, Peaches had given the crew in my living room everything she intended to give them. Priya had footage of her climbing down the little wooden chair and of her stepping over the felt mouse on her way to somewhere better.

She’d also spent four minutes examining a roll of gaffer tape Ben needed back. He waited for her to finish, the way he always did. When she finally walked away, he retrieved the tape and showed it to the camera like evidence.

“She’s done with the tape,” Priya said.

“She’s done with all of us,” I said. “She’ll come back when the visitors arrive.”

Mark checked the time on his phone and put it back in his pocket. I took cups down from the cupboard and set them on the counter in a row: two for the crew, Mark, me, Varga, and three for the Storm group.

My phone buzzed.

Varga: Downstairs. The security man knows who I am.

“Varga’s here,” I said.

“I’ll get him.” Mark was already moving toward the door. Then he stopped beside the coffee table and looked at it. “Can we move this back?”

“Why?”

“There are about to be eight people in this room. One of them is big enough to be named Hog.”

“Peaches steps down onto it from the couch.” I pointed at the corner nearest the cushion. “She expects it there. I’ll put a dining chair by the counter.”

Before leaving, Mark pulled open the side table drawer and handed me a coaster. “You’ll want this. Varga will try to set his cup on the wood.”

When the door closed behind him, I carried a chair from the dining table and set it by the counter.

Varga walked through the door ahead of Mark, carrying his own travel mug. He stopped two steps inside and inspected the seating as though someone had promised him a booth and given him a bar stool.

“You moved things.”

“I added a chair.”

“For me?”

“For Hog.”