"I p.i.s.sed off the Amish."

"Get in the car. I'll have somebody along to get this wreck off the road."

I collapse into the pa.s.senger seat of her little car, and she drives off, already on her phone.

"Yeah, this location. Move fast, we need it off the road."

She turns to me. "What were you doing?"

"Driving to Philadelphia to get a suit for this stupid rally." I sigh. "Then here come the Barbarian Brothers on motorcycles and Jedediah and Clem in a pickup trying to f.u.c.king kill me."

"Clem isn't an Amish name."

"Whatever! They're not real Amish anyway. Amish don't cook meth and kill people."

"What do you want to do? Where's Alexis?"

"Out running errands for my father. Jesus, Jennifer. He tried to kill me."

"Call her, tell her to meet us at the park. Do it."

My head feels like it's stuffed with pencil erasers, but I do as she says. Alexis doesn't argue with me, thank G.o.d.

Jennifer drives us to the park and we step out, walk through the wrought iron gates and head down the path. Alexis comes jogging up and throws her arms, and then her legs, around me, almost bowling me over.

"OhmyG.o.dhwhathappenedareyouokay?" she blurts all at once.

Grunting, I push her legs down and make her stand up, but she doesn't let go.

"I'm not hurt. Truck's totaled."

"Oh my G.o.d."

Still, she doesn't let go. She squeezes tighter, pressing her face into my chest.

"Okay, new plan," I announce. "If you want s.h.i.t on my father's computer, I'll bring the G.o.dd.a.m.n thing with me after I finish kicking his a.s.s up through his skull."

"I want both of you to leave," Jennifer says. "I have a place you can go. Leave with me right now."

"No," Alexis says, softly. "Not yet."

"Alexis, they tried to kill me."

She steps back, her hands linger on my sides. "You go. I'll stay."

"Not a f.u.c.king chance," I snap. "I'm not leaving you behind. Ever."

"I have to stop him," Alexis says, glancing at both of us. "It's the only way I'll ever know my sister is safe. That you're safe," she looks at me.

"If you won't go, I won't go either."

Jennifer sighs and scrubs her palms over her face. "Look, I can't drag you kicking and screaming, but the man just tried to kill one of you today. You botched following him to the farm. He knows. He probably knows you were both in on it. It's time to go."

"No," we both say at once.

After a frustrated sigh, Jennifer hands Alexis a card.

"If there's any kind of a problem, call me. Immediately. Hawk, put my number in your phone."

After I've added her, I sigh. "I still need a d.a.m.n suit."

"Alexis, go back to the house, you don't want to be missed," Jennifer says. "Hawk, come with me. We'll take care of the suit."

Alexis Now I think I'm going to throw up.

For the last three days I've been preparing all my own food, from packages, and doing the same for May, while Hawk eats out of cans from the pantry. We rarely eat dinner together anyway, but I'm still terrified any time either of them takes a bite, expecting them to start frothing at the mouth and keel over from poison.

The look on Tom's face when Hawk walked back into the house was almost worth it. I pretended not to notice, but Tom looked like he'd just s.h.i.t a live chicken. Hawk waved at him and walked upstairs like nothing was amiss, carrying a garment bag.

It's six in the morning and we're getting ready. A week of preparations and it's finally time. I've dressed, not in business attire, but in a sun dress and blouse, light and airy and I'm glad to have it on. Much of the day will be spent outside, and it's the hottest day of the summer so far. The forecast calls for it to top one hundred degrees, and the humidity hasn't let up.

Worse, there's a thunderstorm warning for this afternoon. We rented the fire hall, though, so we can move inside if it starts to rain. A good number of people will show up to this. There will be free hot dogs again, for one thing. Thankfully I won't be the one offering them this time.

May emerges from her room in a similar outfit to mine, her hair tucked back in a loose ponytail. I head downstairs with her and find Lance lazing about at the dining room table, slouching in an unb.u.t.toned suit jacket, his tie loosened up. He glares at us as we walk past and wait in the kitchen. I can't help but pace, rubbing my arms. Tom is in his office and Mom is in the foyer, reading a book and smiling softly to herself, her foot tapping with excitement.

Hawk descends the stairs.

d.a.m.n, he looks good in a suit. Perfectly tailored, it accents his build, his big shoulders and trim waist. When he looks at me, I feel my knees tremble, and May gives me a tight-lipped smile. Only a hint of his tattoos can be seen around his cuffs. He's shaved and actually combed his hair. I have a weird urge to go over and rub my palm on his cheek.

I'm staring, d.a.m.n. I turn away and walk to the back door and look out over the yard.

"Everyone ready?" Tom asks in a high, cheery voice.

No one answers, of course we're all ready.

"We'll take my truck."

The truck seats six. Three up front, three in the back. I push May to climb in the front and ride between Tom and my mother, and climb in next to Lance.

Tom looks at me.

f.u.c.k, I have to sit next to Hawk. It was either this or sandwich May between Hawk and Lance, and I'm not putting her anywhere near him. I make sure to turn my nose up at Hawk and look away from him, arms folded across my chest, as he gets in next to me and pulls the door shut. Lance wiggles and pushes against my side, leans back, and rests his arm along the bench seat, behind me.

"Got enough room, sis?"

I almost snap f.u.c.k off before it dies in my throat.

"I'm fine," I mutter.

At least it isn't a long drive. Tom starts the engine and turns the air on full blast, and it's barely cold by the time we arrive. Hawk steps out and I slip out Lance's side, trying to avoid them both. May rushes to stand next to me before we all head inside.

There's work to do. Hawk takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over a chair, and to my surprise, Lance joins in as Tom does the same. The three of them work in silence, setting up the red-white-and-blue bunting and the big Richardson for Mayor sign up on the stage. It's sweaty work, and I'm glad I don't have to join in. Instead I help my mother, talk to the soda cart and hot dog cart people when they arrive, and coordinate all the setup.

I've been running to meet with people and making phone calls all week setting this up, now I have to coordinate everything. It's a supposed to be like a big picnic, and a chance for Tom to schmooze with all the local politicians and give a speech. By and large, it's all pointless. He's running unopposed. While I'm directing the setup of the taco truck, trying to keep them from digging big ruts in the firehouse's yard, a man walks up to me.

"Where's your stepfather?"

"I'll handle it," I sigh.

"I'm Preston Greenfield, from the city elections office."

I've never met him. Skinny, gla.s.ses, hunched shoulders. He reminds me of a bird.

"We've spoken on the phone. What did you need him for?"

He pushes his gla.s.ses up his nose. "I need to inform your father that another candidate has entered the race."

"What?" I blurt out. "The deadline for filing was in June."

"Ah, well." He shuffles a stack of papers in his hand. "The city charter has an exception to the deadline rule in cases where only one candidate has formally entered the race, in the, ah, interest of fairness. The paperwork's all in order, everything's perfectly legal and above board. He has an opponent now."

"You're joking. Who?"

Before he can answer me, a black box truck rolls past, then another, and another. They pull into the vacant lot opposite the firehall and stop, creaking on their suspensions.

The door of the first truck swings open and Jacob steps out, in a shirt and tie. Jennifer gets out of the other side in a long floral pattern dress and half a dozen men step out of the trucks, open the back of each one, and start carrying out folding picnic tables.

A pair of them drive two posts into the ground, and unfurl between them a great big green banner that reads KANE FOR MAYOR.

You have to be f.u.c.king kidding me.

Hawk appears at my side.

"Uh," he says.

"Uh," I agree.

Hawk ducks away from me, and just in time. Tom strides over and scowls, barking at Greenfield.

"What the h.e.l.l's that? What're they doing?"

Greenfield repeats his whole story about the paperwork, which Tom s.n.a.t.c.hes from him to flip through it. His lips pull back in a sneer and he looks angrier than I've ever seen him. He's always calm, but not now.

He crumples the papers in his hands.

"You show up now and tell me about this?"

Greenfield recoils, raising his hands in protest. "Sir, there's nothing I can do. It's all legal. He has the signatures."

People are starting to show up, and they're heading across the street, not to us. Jacob must have called every other food truck within fifty miles; within minutes there's a burger truck, a barbecue truck, Tex-Mex and Chinese, and the street is filling up with cars. As I watch the people streaming in, it hits me. Everybody over there helping set up is young, like our age or younger. High school students, recent graduates. There must be fifty people already, all wearing green t-shirts.

They brought their parents, too. In half an hour the lot across the street looks full, bustling with activity.

Ours... not so much. Then again, it's not supposed to start until eleven. They might be the only ones who show up.

"Get back to work," Tom snaps. "You, get out of my sight," he hisses at Greenfield.

The little man leaves the paperwork with Tom and scurries off.

I'm going to have to slip off and head back to the house sometime soon. This might be the distraction I need.

That may very well be the point.

I have the thumb drive Jennifer gave me stashed in my purse. I don't need much time. Problem is, I'm going to have to walk back to the house. Tom is walking across the road. I check my phone; it's almost eleven, things are getting started. I have to move now.

Hawk catches me as I walk away from the lot next to the fire hall.

"You're going?" I nod. "Okay, I'll go with you."

"No, stay here. If it looks like he's going to notice I'm gone, distract him. I have to hurry."

He sets his jaw, then nods. I turn and walk, looking back to see if anyone has spotted me. I'm in the clear so far. Once I make it to the corner, I break into a run, glad I wore sneakers and not flats or worse, heels. I can't go full out because of the d.a.m.n dress, but it will take me maybe ten minutes to run back to the house. Sat.u.r.day in Paradise Falls means no one on the street, especially once I make it to our block.

Panting, I run around behind the house, dart up the back step, and head straight for the office. Of course he locked the door, but once when he gave me his keys to take the car out and get it washed, I had a copy of everything made, so that's no problem. I head straight for his desk and shudder as I sit down in his chair. It feels weird sitting here looking at the rest of the office, behind his big black monster of a desk.

The computer is off to the side.

When I turn it on, it asks for the pa.s.sword.

It's Alexis.

It works, it's that simple. I fish the thumb drive out of my pocket and stick it in the computer. The mouse cursor turns into a little wheel, and the drive's window pops open. Deep breath. I double click on the icon and the screen flashes. It comes back up with a black box and a blinking cursor. Something must be wrong. I'm about to close it when it fills up with green text scrolling quickly down the screen, the scroll bar on the side blurring as it moves.

Then the window closes and a progress bar pops up and says connecting to host. The mouse icon keeps spinning, and the progress bar shoots from one end to the other and fills. I let out a long sigh and reach for the drive. Then another progress bar pops up.

Creating clone... est. time 15 minutes Oh, come on. Jennifer did warn me this might take a few minutes. My foot starts to tap almost immediately and I bite my lip. It feels like the bar hasn't moved at all, but it says 2%. Then 3, 4, finally 10. I stand and pace behind the desk, rubbing my arms. I'm sweaty from running here but it's freezing in the office. I swear I can see my breath. I walk back and forth, back and forth, from the desk to the chairs and c.o.c.ktail table, back and forth. I hear the computer ding and turn to rush over. It's not even half done. Tom got an email.

Lance stands in the door, grinning.

"Hey there," he says softly, stepping into the office. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I s.n.a.t.c.h the thumb drive. "Tom wanted me to grab a file for him."

"What file?"

"It's not important."

Lance moves closer.