Spies in Sandals [Book Four]

Chapter Eight: Keeping Things Hidden in the City on a Hill

Hi! Wow, sorry, I feel like it's been forever since I updated. This chapter was...rough. It's another boring, lots of talking chapter, I'm sorry. I promise more action is coming, it's just that I have to build up to it ugh. But soon. This week is spirit week at my school which is SO MUCH FUN cuz we dress up every day. Tomorrow my friends and I are being the Flintstones and my costume is damn amazing if I do say so myself. And on Wed I'm being Dora. I'm so pumped. But that's enough about me...hope you enjoy this chapter!

Another pic of Nat up there (cuz Idk what else to put up and I feel like I need some pizazz)

Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Eight

Keeping Things Hidden in the City on a Hill

Call me a baby, but admittedly I did start crying a little as chaos erupted in the room, everyone demanding how I knew that Zach was going to the Cape. Jer took immediate control, ordering everyone out in a tone that no one but Ramirez could ignore, and even she left after I gulped out, "I'm not telling her anything!"

It was my fault. Why hadn't I told him what I'd learned at the Carbonis'?

A half hour later, I sat in shotgun as Jer sped across town, still a little weepy as I explained in greater detail what had happened the previous afternoon. My stomach hurt with fear for Zach and with guilt for getting Patrick in trouble yet again; I was pretty sure Jer was never going to forgive him, especially when he found out that Zach had somehow managed to steal one of the agency's cars. Apparently Ramirez hadn't taken that news too well, though to my utmost relief, Jer had mandated that she drive with Jack and Patrick down to the Cape while he and I went to the Carbonis' café.

"Wh-why do we have to go see them?" I asked, hiccupping as Jer swerved in and out of heavy traffic.

"To find out exactly what they know about this Cape Cod business," he replied grimly, sweat shining on his forehead despite the gentle blow of air-conditioning. "I don't care who they are or what they've done right now. I just want answers."

I had a feeling that giving answers wasn't Sofia Carboni's forte.

Some agonizing amount of time later, Jer pulled into a parking space about a block down from the café, and we walked up to it with no attempt to be casual. Well, I'd wiped the dried tears off my face and straightened my ponytail, setting my cap back on my head, but Jer didn't seem concerned about the fact that he looked like James Bond on a case in his dark suit and equally dark expression.

"Here?" he asked briefly as we approached the café, and I nodded.

"Maybe you should let me talk at first?" I suggested timidly, and to my surprise, he agreed. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door, a cheerful chime ringing out, and at once I spotted Angelo at the counter laughing and taking some girl's order. As he moved away from her back toward the kitchen, his eyes landed on Jer and then on me, and his smile vanished.

"You! I knew you'd go straight to him!"

"Angelo –" I clutched the edge of the counter. "I have to talk –"

"Ma!" he called, ducking halfway through the door to the back as he kept one eye on the two of us. "Ma, we've got a problem!"

Jer's hand landed on my shoulder as I bit my lip, his presence sturdy and reassuring behind me, though it obviously freaked the heck out of Angelo. Sofia seemed to take forever to emerge from the back, her face etched with irritation as she grumbled, "Always so many problems with this one –" and then she noticed us.