They had to squeeze by a Florida Energy truck that was teetering in a deep gutter on one side of the lane; a man in a hard hat was high on the pole, fiddling with the wire, and a group of workers were doing nothing but watching. Gemma was relieved to see that Jake’s car was in the driveway, or the small patch of dirt that counted as one. For the first time she noticed the bumper was plastered with bumper stickers, so overlayered and old that most were illegible. She wondered whether it had been his father’s car.
Pete pulled into the driveway behind Jake’s car but made no move to get out. Instead he hunched forward over the steering wheel, peering up at the house. It was an ugly yellow color, with brown shutters, two of which were hanging at weird angles. Someone had made an effort to clear a patch of front lawn—Gemma thought of Jake, lining up his utensils neatly, and imagined it must be him—but the trees were reclaiming their territory slowly and the window boxes were empty except for dirt. No one had taken much pride in the house, for sure.
“Well,” Pete said, with his usual cheerfulness. “At least we won’t have to take our shoes off.”
Gemma licked her lips. The coffee had been too sugary and now her mouth had a weird, gritty feel. Pete still hadn’t responded to her story, not directly. Maybe he didn’t believe her. “Look. All the stuff I told you . . .”
Pete turned to her. His eyes were the color of Rufus’s. Toffee brown, warm. “You can trust me,” he said. It was as though he read her mind. “I won’t tell anyone.”
It was as if a bubble of air in her chest had been released. “So . . . you don’t think I’m crazy?”
“People who pay five bucks for coffee are crazy,” he said. Then he frowned. “But you’re in some deep shit.” She’d never heard him sound so serious, and in that moment she realized he was handsome. Not just cute. Not goofy-looking. Handsome. Clean jaw and a little bit of stubble, all those golden freckles, the hair falling softly across his forehead. “I’m worried about you. Powerful people went to a lot of trouble to keep Haven’s work a secret. My guess is they won’t stop now.”
“No one knows we were out on the marshes,” Gemma said. Her stomach squirmed, though. “No one knows what we found.”
“So you think,” Pete said. And then, in a quieter voice, “I’m not trying to scare you. But we have to be careful.” It was amazing, Gemma thought, how nice the word we could sound, and she nearly put her arms around him. She nearly kissed him.
Christ. She was fantasizing about kissing Pervy Pete. April would never believe it. If April ever spoke to her again.
It was hotter here than it had been in April’s grandparents’ subdivision, despite all the shade. Gemma felt sorry for the Florida Energy guys.
“You’ll like Jake,” Gemma said, partly to convince herself. The tree branches lifted and fell silently, touched by a phantom wind. She didn’t know why she felt so nervous. Something about the whole place was creepy, like the set piece of an abandoned road from a horror film after the zombie apocalypse has struck.
Pete shrugged. But he still looked unhappy, or nervous, or both. “Weird are my people,” he said. “Weird is what I do.”
“He’ll have a plan. You’ll see,” she said, partly to reassure herself. A tabby cat was sunning itself on the grungy porch and stared insolently at them as the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house. You shouldn’t be here, it seemed to be saying, and Gemma couldn’t help but feel the same way.
For a long minute, she heard no sounds of movement. She began to feel not just nervous but truly afraid. She jabbed a finger on the bell again and at the same time tried the knob. Locked. Finally she heard footsteps. In the window next to the door, she saw Jake twitch open the blinds, and his dark eyes peer between them. Then the sound of the lock releasing. Relief felt like something physical, like something she could lie down in.
“God,” she said, when he opened the door. “I was afraid something had happened. I was afraid . . .” But she trailed off, seeing that he had only opened the door a crack and he was angling his body so they couldn’t come inside.
“What are you doing here?” He was looking at her as if he’d never seen her before in his life. He looked furious.
It wasn’t exactly the welcome she’d been expecting. Next to her, Pete pivoted, staring back toward the street as though considering a quick getaway.
“You weren’t picking up your phone,” Gemma said. “I called a dozen times.”
“Can’t find my phone,” he said. “Don’t know what happened to it.” His eyes swept the street behind them. “You should really go.” He started to close the door.
“Wait.” Gemma got a hand in the door. For a second he looked like he was considering closing it on her fingers, but then he thought better of it. “You don’t understand. The replicas—they’re gone.”
“Quiet.” Jake hushed her as though she’d cursed in church. She was close enough to see that he was sweating. Fear. Jake Witz, she realized, wasn’t angry. He was terrified. “Keep your voice down.”
“We came here for your help—” Pete started to say, but Gemma cut him off. She felt wild and reckless and dizzyingly confused.
“Didn’t you hear me? They’re gone,” she said. “They must have left in the middle of the night. They took my money. Maybe they took your phone, too—”
“I heard you.” Once again, Jake’s eyes went to the street. “It’s not my problem. Not yours, either. Now get out of here. You shouldn’t have come. I don’t know you, okay?” He raised his voice. He was practically shouting. “I don’t even know you.”