"What?" His voice rang a little against the cinderblock walls. "Josh?"
"Did she mention posing for some pictures when she met the reporter?"
"Yeah. She and George…" Vincent suddenly understood what drew those curses from Josh's tongue. "No, she wouldn't be so careless -- but obviously she was." His mind raced back through the report Su-Ma had made. He couldn't remember quizzing her on taking the usual precautions when she traveled around with George -- either before or after the trip. Maybe he was the one who had been careless, not Su-Ma.
Still, he thought she was getting better at remembering the little details. It was always the ordinary, everyday, common sense things she messed up on -- filling the gas tank, charging her cell phone and computer, locking the car when she got out -- not the important things like keeping George under control and below the radar. Didn't pictures taken by reporters for national magazines count as important? She should have remembered to either forbid the pictures, or ensure they didn't appear in public. Yet obviously she hadn't, or Josh wouldn't be calling.
Considering the options, trying to figure out who was to blame, made his head ache with a sharp stab, like the last time Genghis had sent someone to kill him.
"I want to say I wouldn't recognize George in those pictures if I hadn't seen him last year," Josh said slowly, "but … Genghis is still out there. As far as we know, so is Shadow. Even if they aren't back together, it only makes sense that one or the other would want to tie up some loose ends. Know what I mean?"
"Too well." He squeezed the phone hard enough to make the metal case creak. "All right. First I'll look at those pictures. Then… I don't need to yell at Su-Ma. She'll understand."
"What do you need me to do?" A choking sound that was probably an attempt at laughter came through the phone. "Besides pray?"
"Lord, You have made blind eyes see, now make seeing eyes blind," Vincent whispered.