Despite Connor’s assurances that Damon wasn’t completely all-knowing and all-seeing, I couldn’t help casting furtive glances over my shoulder as we exited the building and threw our meager luggage — my duffle bag, a beat-up athletic carry-all with the Northern Pines University logo on the side — in the back of the FJ. There were a few people around, going from the parking lot behind the building to the shops and restaurants in a sort of outdoor mall off to one side, but none of them were paying us the slightest bit of attention.
“It’s fine, Angela,” Connor said, opening the passenger door for me. “I don’t recognize any of my brother’s spies.”
I waited until he had climbed inside and started up the engine before asking, “He has spies?”
“Well, okay, any of my relatives.” He fastened his s
