Page 44 of Johnny

never did tell me.”

There’s a few moments of silence and when I look over my shoulder again, she’s scooting into the booth of the dining table a few feet to my right. Still looking around the yacht.

It’s a nice yacht. Not super big, but not small either. It’s probably about ten feet too long to be out

here alone—hence the hidden crew quarters down below. But I’ve been on boats this size alone more

times than I can count, so not a super big risk.

Besides. I’m not alone anymore, am I?

“Not gonna say? Is there really any point keeping secrets anymore? I mean, they left you there to

die, Megan. You’ve got no one. Just me.”

She smiles as she folds her hands on the top of the granite table. “Machette. My name is Megan

Machette.”

“Fuck. In. A,” I mutter.

“Do you know me?”

“No,” I say, running fingers through my hair. “Not you. But I knew your father.”

“Knew him?”

I nod. “Yeah. I knew him. Met him a few times back in my city.”

She pauses to think about that. Puzzled look on her face. “Did you know he’s… missing.”

“I think I heard some buzz about that before I left on my little mission here. Sorry about that.”

“Did you have anything to do with it?”

“Me?” I laugh, pushing another capsule of coffee into the machine and pressing start. “I’m a

banker.”

She snickers as she looks me up and down. “You don’t really fit the profile. I haven’t met many

bankers with full-sleeve tattoos.”

“Way banker,” I say. “They don’t care what I look like. Just as long as I collect those checks.”

“We pay a banker too. Never seen you there, though.”

“No. I work up north. I don’t even know who the banker is down here anymore. The last one

was… reassigned a couple years back, I heard.”

“Yeah. But right now it’s a woman called Marguerite.”

“Well, good for her.”

“She’s…” Megan does one of those fluttering blink thinks. Then finishes her sentence with,

“Crazy.”