Cuff Lynx Read Online Free Page B

was our code. My head popped up, and I scanned the restaurant. Was he here? Spyder?
    In my memory, I was suddenly back at China Magic , one of the restaurants near my old apartment building where my mentor Spyder McGraw and I liked to go. We were laughing over some story that Spyder recounted. Sitting in the bamboo chair with a pair of white cranes painted on the wall beside me, I had just reached for my fortune cookie. That’s when Spyder told me he was going off grid. I didn’t want to hear him tell me the news, so I focused on reading my tiny slip of paper. Virtue is not left to stand alone . . .
    Spyder had slipped my paper from my fingers and read it over. “There are no insulated events in this world, Lexicon. Everything transpires as it should. This fortune, for example, is well-timed. Very suitable, wouldn’t you say?”
    I frowned at him.
    His eyes smiled back in his fatherly way. “Lexicon, this will serve as our code. When there are no other options, and you send me a message with these words, I will dismiss all other obligations and return to your side.” He paused. “I trust you will use the code wisely.”
    As the thought faded, I looked across the table at Leanne, who was busy reapplying her lipstick with the help of a tiny mirror. My lips trembled at the corners, and my fingers worked the paper.
    Of course, this Confucius saying would eventually show up if I ate enough fortune cookies. But Spyder had somehow infused this quote with special powers. Nothing is insulated .
    The two years between that Chinese restaurant scene and now had been sweet and sour. Good things had come to me; I can’t say they outweighed the bad. No. Bad was too mild of a word. These last two years had been a hellish ride. I had needed Spyder, begged him in my mind and my prayers to come and stand beside me. Through it all, I didn’t remember this code; not once did I think about this quote. It was as if someone expunged it from my memory bank. And suddenly here it was, back again, as vivid as the colors in a peacock’s fan.
    This whole day had been a head trip – like walking through a carnival funhouse. The reflections that I moved past distorted my reality. This was why I could never do drugs. I didn’t like feeling this unsteady. And it was just thirteen thirty hours. I wondered what else could happen today, then I immediately wiped those thoughts clear, lest I jinx myself.
    I propped my elbows on the black lacquer table. It was probably too soon for me to be back on the job. I had pushed myself too fast. I needed to talk this over with my traumatic brain injury physician, Dr. Jasper; I decided to call him as soon as we got back to Headquarters. I needed to find some way to discern between my physical reality and my psychic warnings.
    Leanne touched my sleeve. “Mrs. Sobado? Lynx?” Her voice was stern.
    I focused on her face.
    “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. Sorry. I had a thought about a case. What did you say?”
    “I was asking you why you would think that the cookies are Japanese-American.”
    “Oh. Uh. Here in the US, they were popular in Japanese restaurants until 1942, then the Chinese took over the recipe.” As I spoke, my eyes swept over the bright red dining room, hoping to find Spyder lurking in the shadows.
    “1942?” Leanne planted her elbows on the table, leaning forward. “Why 1942?”
    “The US government shoved the Japanese into West Coast internment camps. So if you wanted oriental food, and fortune cookies, you had to go out for Chinese,” I said. I ran the pads of my fingers over the paper. Nothing is insulated . I squeezed my eyes tight to stop the tears that threatened to spill. I still didn’t have my emotions completely under my control. I wondered if Leanne chalked up my weird behavior to my brain damage from the plane crash. She was being very patient. Leaning across the table, I spoke under my breath. “Leanne, do you have a way to get in touch with Spyder McGraw?”
    “Yes. I