Cape Crossed

Chapter Eight

"Bout time you showed up," Jake snapped. He didn't move from his relaxed seat in the little booth. The green vinyl under him seemed to have molded to his body. He only tensed when he saw the girl following behind Warren. "This isn't bring you little sister to work night."

"You're in a shitty mood, aren't you?"Warren groaned. He slid into the booth opposite Jake while she made a beeline for the counter. "She's back up in case something goes wrong again. I've been keeping her in mind since the last botched attempt."

Jake looked her over again, gaze lingering over her patchy jacket. "I'm not paying her. She knows this isn't some huge money thing, right?"

"She has something else in mind. I already sent a memo to Surge about the new addition." Warren reached across the table to take a handful of chips. The liquid neon orange cheese dribbled off the side onto the table.

The last time Jake had been to Hagen's diner he'd been picking up a snack for Hannah. That same day he had pulled a key to his apartment out of the hidden stash of spares. Looking at the grease coating the ceiling lights left a sour taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with the possibly horrific rating the diner had.

"Hands off," Jake warned. He smacked Warren's hand away. The sound of it made the girl turn her head, just for a quick glance.

"I'm pretty sure there's something else inside she wants to get her hands on. Saw her browsing the museum's exhibits on our way over and she was definitely taking screenshots of some of it." The vinyl squeaked under him while he shifted his weight to make more room on his side. Warren held his stinging hand to his chest.

The topic of their heated debate slid into the booth. Her braid hung over her shoulder like a half unraveled length of rope. "I didn't realize I was coming between something here. Did the two of you need more time to finish your little lover's quarrel?" The strawberry milkshake in her hand clinked against the table.

"We're not arguing and I'm not a babysitter. You're out, the decision is final," Jake said through grit teeth.

"I don't need a babysitter," she insisted.

"You can't get yourself into the showroom for something you supposedly want. That sounds like babysitting to me," Jake countered.

"Getting in isn't my problem," she jeered. The girl leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist. Their eyes locked, daring the other to look away. The straw from her milkshake rested against her bottom lip.

Jake watched her take a sip and then watched her lift a chip towards her mouth. The cheese had started to cool and it sat on top of the salted triangle like slime. "When did I say you could have one of my-" Jake stopped mid reach for the basket of chips across the table and turned wide eyes to Warren who was suddenly sitting beside him.

"Like I said, I can get in just fine. All I need is to be able to see someone already inside and I'm in." She shoved the chips across to him and pulled her milkshake over. "My problem is that once they're outside there's nothing stopping them from coming right back in. That's where he comes in." She pointed at Warren. "And you'll take care of any cameras."

"Hang on, I'm going to need you to explain what you just did to me." Jake gave his chest a quick pat, assuring himself everything he'd left home with was still on him. He was always careful to keep anything personal far away from any grabby fingers. Who knows what freak would stake out his apartment to get something out of him.

"You're kind of dense, huh? I switched us, you and me. It's always easier if I can hold eye contact but I don't really need it. The headache after is killer though," she sighed. "Friends call me Criss Cross."