Fake ID: Chapters 33–41

He pushed me aside—not hard, more like a nudge—but I felt the muscles in his forearm flex, latent power that could’ve sent me flying if he chose.

Something to tarnish last night’s perfect end.

The symbols correspond to numerals on a standard QWERTY keyboard. The way our system works, you add one to the number that corresponds with each symbol.

Reaching into my jacket pocket, I removed the heavy key chain Reya slipped in after she shoved that last kid. A key chain she’d lifted off Hardwick’s belt during the scuffle.

Seven keys on Hardwick’s key chain were Schlage compatible and I hit the jackpot on the fourth try.

The drawers were unlocked. It saved me the time of breaking in but didn’t bode well for me finding anything useful.

An insulated lunch box rested in the ceiling.

There’d been no fights, and Mom kept insisting that we “eat breakfast as a family,” but the evenings felt like I was an emancipated minor. Sandwiches and sodas in front of the TV, no parents to be found.

Today might not be the day, but me and Mom’s time here was short. Especially if Eli’s flash drive implicated Dad in the mayor’s and Miguel’s sleazy schemes.

If you review the attached spreadsheet you’ll see that the major crime stats remain steady in Stepton despite the integration of 50+ rogues.

Certain individuals were concerned that placing such unstable people in a single locale would incite spikes in violence, larceny, and overall chaos.

Certain individuals were concerned that placing such unstable people in a single locale would incite spikes in violence, larceny, and overall chaos.

Being one of the few who lobbied for the Whispertown initiative, I don’t feel a bit of shame in saying "told ya so"...LOL.

Rogues.
Unstable people.
The Program’s worst of the worst.

Additionally, I've included prime fiscal statements for our town.

The funds are helping us tremendously, and though I haven’t been privy to the numbers you’re running, I’m willing to bet disciplinary incidents are down for you.

“The government wanted a cheaper, more efficient process. They decided to try an experiment. Stepton got two million dollars for allowing one percent of the witness population to be placed here, unaware that they’re guinea pigs. The witnesses are monitored by two U.S. Marshals, utilizing a ‘streamlined process’ to observe and report on their”—she checked Eli’s notes—“'acclimation.'”

Or the honest worker who took the wrong job with a financial adviser/money launderer and saw files she wasn’t supposed to see. The WitSec sob stories. Not career criminals who used Witness Protection as a pass on the penitentiary and retribution from former friends.

Eli continued, “—wouldn’t be nice to dump a bunch of malcontent criminals into an unsuspecting community without getting sign-off. It’d be like dropping a piranha in a stranger’s fish tank, just ’cuz. When Uncle Sam proposed a million-dollar payday for the city’s participation, good old Mayor Burke did the responsible thing and asked for two...”

Mustering what strength I could, I followed Reya’s trail outside and felt the dry heat coming from the flaming remains of her Beetle.

A single customer sat with his legs crossed and an elbow propped on Dad’s desk, rattling on about minimizing his tax liability.

I thought it was a done deal until he asked, ‘Got any special skills?’ I mentioned bookkeeping, and he got damn near giddy.

He spread his arms high and wide, stared into the chemical cloud snaking overhead. “Basking in the glory.”

“He’s embezzling the money?”

My gaze shifted toward the parking spaces along the front of the Tax and Accounting Services office, where Dad’s SUV sat, and thought about the mayor’s mangled car, probably in some impound yard with blood on the seats.

“What happened to you?” he asked, plucking at my singed shirt.

He said, “You are lucky none of these idiots are proficient in math.”

A lull, like Kreso expected more resistance, but after a moment, he said, “Good. Bury him deep.”

The vehicle bucked, its suspension groaning like old people getting out of chairs, as we swung onto a rutted road bordered by tall trees.

The skyline opened up, dense foliage replaced by dark clouds and half-erected building frames.

He bounced uncertain looks off each of his minions, all of them shuffling, loose and confused.

Zach, perpetually proving his toughness, nudged my shoulder with the bat.

Your attorney will explain words like that to you before your arraignment.

I swung the bat, hard, embedding it in the earth next to his ear.

My arms quivered, my hands ratcheting the handle.