CHAPTER 18
TWO DAYS LATER, I lay out in the yard, pretending to read a book. With my phone next to me and Blackwood’s finest keeping an eye on the boat, I could afford to close my eyes if I wanted to, but old habits died hard.
Last night, I’d crept into the yard under cover of darkness and positioned the cameras right where I needed them—one in a tree looking out over Liquidity’s stern, and another hidden inside a fake rock watching the bow.
Leo had looked on in fascination last night as I commandeered the kitchen to make the rock—homemade plastic was one of the first things I’d learned how to cook when I got my own apartment, and it was easier than you might think—heat eighteen ounces of milk until just below boiling point, add eight tablespoons of vinegar, stir, and run it through a s
