All In by Gabra Zackman Page B

father’s last known address. “Chas? Did you know we were so close to location three?” she asked, showing him the map and the address.
    Chas laughed. “Mahmoud planned this whole thing. I say when we get your father back safely, we buy Mahmoud a Porsche in exchange.”
    “I don’t know about that,” Susannah replied. “He seems more the Jaguar type to me. But yes, a gift, a big one. And let’s hope we find my father before someone else does.”
    Chas nodded in understanding. “Let’s get our gear on and load our guns. We’ll start with location three. Text Fingers and make sure she’s tracking us. Tell her we’re going in now. We’ll get him, babe. I promise.”
    Looking back at him, she felt her confidence rise. They were right on target, and there was no time to lose. Perfect. She sent a quick text to AJ to make sure she had eyes on the place.
    Fingers. Heading to Joburg loc #3. Eyes on?
    Immediately, she heard back.
    Got you covered, sis. Go for it!
    She wasn’t surprised that AJ was at the ready. It wasn’t late, and AJ seldom needed sleep anyway. She would have been at the ready if it were two in the morning. Hell, she probably didn’t even have jet lag!Susannah put on her Bluetooth and changed into dark colors, strapping her holster around her thigh. Chas was already in dark clothes, wearing a shoulder holster as well as a knife in one boot and a second revolver around his calf. He also carried a small backpack with supplies: water, rope, PowerBars, extra ammo, and backup phone batteries in case they needed to do an impromptu stakeout. They nodded to each other, grabbed hands, and slipped out the back door into the Johannesburg night.
    ‡‡‡
    JACKSON AND LISA BEE had gotten a couple of hours of sleep and were ready to hit the road. Mahmoud had a burnt-orange Vespa for them to use, and they were currently heading south to the Friouato Caves. The warm air was whipping past them, and Lisa Bee held tight to Jackson’s waist, enjoying the ride and the time to think. Jackson seemed totally psyched, in a great and optimistic mood. Lisa Bee felt a lot less clear. She felt true friendship with Jackson, and she had a raging crush on Mahmoud. This would be tough to deal with, but she figured the best thing she could do would be to focus on the case. Maybe it would just work itself out. As she held on to Jackson and felt the rippling muscles beneath his jacket, as well as a new awareness of him within herself, she wondered what might come in terms of her love life and her work.
    When Lisa Bee was growing up, she and her best friend, Cassandra, would play a game called Detective. They’d wear disguises—hats, wigs, and glasses—and use fake guns they got at a five-and-dime store. They’d record themselves pursuing cases through the back woods of her parents’ house and through the streets of New Orleans, made-up cases of petty thieves and mysterious murders. She’d kept the box of disguises and cassette tapes in her parents’ attic. She had no idea at the time how prescient that game was: She never knew then that she would become the character that she played as a girl. Holding on to Jackson, she felt a burst of adrenaline, an explosion of self-confidence. She felt, for the first time since she could remember, that she was doing just what she was put on this earth to do, that her life had a purpose, the exact purpose she was born for.
    As the wind whipped past her skin, she allowed her grin to spread from ear to ear.
    ‡‡‡
    SUSANNAH WAS DOING surveillance outside her father’s last known address. Chas had gone inside to check out the house and had ordered her to stay put. She was nervous—something wasn’t right about any of this. She had a funny feeling in her gut, and she had learned to trust her instincts. She had begged Chas to wait for daylight, but he’d insisted he would be fine. They kissed briefly, and he was gone.
    She was standing under a copse of jacaranda trees, looking at the