“Who do you think it is?” she asked.
My sister wasn’t supposed to bring the kids home for another hour. “I don’t know.”
Vero followed me to the door. I peered through the curtain. Cam stood on the stoop, his hoodie pulled low to cover his face and a sealed envelope under his arm. I unlocked the bolt and swung it open.
“You!” Vero lunged for him as I threw out an arm to hold her back. “You stole my car!”
“I didn’t steal anything.” Cam held up a fob. “You left the dealer spare in the owner’s manual in your glove box. It was practically an invitation.”
Vero snatched it from his hand with an angry growl. “If there’s so much as a scratch on it, I will end you.” She shouldered past him out the door. Cam shook his head as he watched her storm off to the driveway to inspect her car.
“What are you doing here?” I dragged him inside my foyer, checking Mrs. Haggerty’s windows before shutting the door. Cam slid off his hood. His greasy bleached-blond hair had been dyed and shorn. He’d traded out his old army jacket for a leather one that smelled expensive and new. If it hadn’t been for the fading purple-and-green bruises on his cheek, I wasn’t sure I would have recognized him.
He handed me the envelope.
“What is this?” A blood-colored wax seal held it closed. The swirling impression of a Z matched the one on the signet ring Kat wore.
“Don’t ask me. I’m just the errand boy.”
“You’re working for Feliks?”
“Mr. Zhirov offered me a job. Said his people have been watching me. He was impressed with my skills, so we made a deal. I do a few odd jobs for him now and then. In return, he keeps certain people off my back and I earn a generous paycheck.”
“That’s it?” I had a feeling Cam wasn’t just running errands.
Cam shrugged. “He said if I stay in line and don’t bring unnecessary attention to our arrangement, he’ll let me work my way up from there. That’s why I brought your friend back her car. You know, as a show of good faith.” I raised an eyebrow. “And because Mr. Zhirov told me to,” he admitted.
“You and Feliks aren’t the only ones who had a deal, you know.” I reached up and turned his chin, examining his cheekbone. The swelling had gone down, but bursts of hideous colors had bloomed around his eye. I wasn’t sure if it looked better or worse. He swatted away my hand, but there was no real malice in it. “Nick says you haven’t been at home or school. Your mother must be worried sick about you.” My heart ached at the brief flash of pain in his eyes.
“She’d have to be there to notice.”
“What about your grandmother?”
He rubbed the dark bristles on his scalp. “She’s fine. I’m taking care of her.”
“Who’s taking care of you?” Cam was just a kid. A kid who’d grown up too fast and was in over his head. And while he might feel safe under Feliks’s arm, that safety was an illusion; a deal with Feliks didn’t make you bulletproof. “There has to be something … anything you can tell me about EasyClean, Cam. Who is he? Who did this to you?”
Cam winced. He dragged a roll of bills from the front pocket of his jeans and peeled off a fifty, folding it into my hand before returning the rest to his pocket. “Look, I wish I could help you. Just trust me when I tell you, you’re better off not knowing. Besides, even if I knew the guy’s real name, I couldn’t tell you anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Mr. Z made me give him that flash drive I was going to hand over to your cop friend. That was the other part of our deal. But don’t worry,” he said, pitching his voice low, as if maybe the walls were listening. “I might have scrubbed a few things.”
My throat worked around a hard swallow. How much had been on that drive?
Cam rubbed the bruise on his cheek. He blew out a hard, guilt-ridden sigh. “Look, the only thing I know for sure is that EasyClean is a cop. A real dirty one. Which means he has a lot more to lose if he gets busted, and he’s got all the tools he needs to cover his tracks.”
“How do you know he’s a police officer?”
Cam jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been around cops all my life. My dad was one. They have their own slang, their own language. I read all his posts and the emails in his sent files. EasyClean talks like a cop.”
My mind raced back to my conversation with Joey. Every clue fit. Joey had means, motive, and countless opportunities to try to kill Steven. But last night, he’d also had an alibi. One I had yet to verify.