Chapter 26 Tallus
Tallus
The apartment complex Lukyan Andrich owned in Brampton was vacant and under construction, or so I had been led to believe when researching online.
The abundance of warning signs and temporary metal fencing erected around the structure seemed to support that theory.
The illumination bleeding around the edges of a few covered windows on the lower levels negated it and piqued my curiosity.
No contractors were on site on a Saturday, so I was interested in knowing who was in the building or if the lights had been left on by accident—it didn’t explain the randomly placed heavy curtains that gave the impression of occupancy.
Lukyan got out of the Bentley, unlocked a section of fencing, pulled it aside, and drove in. He secured the gate behind him, parked near the main entrance, and let himself into the building with a key.
I kept a reasonable distance, parking across and down the road. The complex sat on a corner lot surrounded on two sides by busier streets. We blended well with our surroundings, and Lukyan didn’t seem to notice us before vanishing inside.
I scanned the building, counting stories. Eight. The top seven showed dark windows. The main floor showed possible habitation.
My inner spy wanted to sneak beyond the fence and look around.
I wanted to peer between the cracks in the curtains and see what they hid, but I couldn’t do that with Darcy in tow, and I doubted the kid would stay put.
I didn’t have Diem’s threatening presence, and the brat went out of his way to piss me off.
“What’s he doing in there?” Darcy asked, squirming in the seat.
“No idea. I would have thought the place was empty.”
“But there are lights on.”
“Thanks, Sherlock. Didn’t see that.”
“Shut up. Do you think someone’s in there?”
“I don’t know.” But the urge to investigate was too hard to resist. “Can you be subtle and sneaky?”
“Hell yeah.” He unbuckled his seat belt and was halfway out the door when I snagged the sleeve of the jacket he’d borrowed.
“Whoa. Slow down. I said subtle.”
Darcy glared like he didn’t know what he’d done wrong.
“I want to get a look inside, but I don’t want to be caught. This is a restricted construction zone. Sneaky, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You do as I say.”
“Yeah. Fine. Let’s go.”
Darcy radiated eagerness, and a momentary flash of worry eclipsed my excitement. This was a bad idea. Was I putting him in danger? He had run from Lukyan less than twenty-four hours ago. Literally jumped from a moving vehicle and broke his arm to get away from him. What if we were caught?
Diem would kill me.
Before I could change my mind or take action, the main door of the building opened again, and Lukyan appeared with three boys about Darcy’s age.
“Who are they?” Darcy asked, no longer racing to get out of the vehicle.
I didn’t answer, but he didn’t seem to expect one. We were a fair distance away, but Darcy drew his hood and sank lower in the seat, peering cautiously over the top of the dash. Maybe the kid had half a brain after all.
Lukyan guided the boys to his vehicle. He opened the trunk, and they each collected a few banker boxes from within, taking them back inside while Lukyan supervised. They returned a few minutes later and gathered more from the back seat of the Bentley.
Lukyan closed the car door and spoke to the boys for a few minutes before they vanished inside again. Lukyan unlocked the fence, got in his car, and left.
I watched him drive off but didn’t follow, my brain stirring over what I’d witnessed.
“He’s getting away.” Darcy emerged from the shell of his hoodie and peered after the retreating car.
I didn’t care. I had a strong suspicion the answers lay in those boxes. In the not-so-vacant building with people inside.
As I pondered, my phone rang. I checked the screen—Diem—and hesitated, debating if I should answer, knowing how he would feel about the slowly forming plan inside my head.
I let it go to voicemail.
It rang again.
Darcy glanced at the device. “Why aren’t you answering?”
“Because Diem won’t like what I’m planning to do, and if I don’t tell him, then he can’t tell me not to.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “Are you coming?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Darcy followed as I circled the property. He didn’t badger me with questions or race ahead, and it won him a few more points. At this rate, I might decide to like the kid.
I suspected there was more than one way inside the fence besides the one Lukyan had used, and I was right.
Unfortunately, it too was chained shut. I rattled the gate and cursed as I examined the wired design of the surrounding fence.
It wasn’t a typical chain link that could be scaled using the grid as footholds.
These openings were much smaller, and I doubted I could squish the toe of my shoe in far enough to successfully climb it.
Darcy must have registered the problem and wandered the length of the fence, studying the way the temporary pieces connected. Twenty feet from the gate, he stopped and shouted. “Here.”
Each section was joined to the one beside it with thick wires looped around posts. The one he’d discovered had only been secured on the top and not the bottom. Either an oversight, or they had run out of material and figured it was good enough.
Darcy wrapped his fingers around the bottom holes and wrenched that section of fence so it pulled away from the other, creating a gap big enough to fit a medium-sized dog.
I joined him, heaving the piece wider by a few inches—it was the best we were going to get.
The fence was stiff and unyielding. When we let go, it shifted back into position, leaving only inches separating the two sections.
Darcy and I were close to the same size, but he was slightly shorter and scrawnier. I scanned for exterior cameras and found none. “I’ll go first. Hold it as wide as you can and don’t let go until I’m through.”
It took a song and dance to squeeze inside the opening and not get muddy or tear my clothes, but I managed unscathed. Despite wearing my jacket, Darcy didn’t show the same concern and came out the other side covered in mud and with a tear in the sleeve.
“Dammit, kid. I liked that coat.”
“I have a fucking cast on. That wasn’t easy.”
He made a good case—still, I was pissed.
We stayed close to the building, peering into each window.
The ones on this side—the rear—were dark, the rooms beyond empty.
Our suspicious activity was less apparent at the back of the property.
Around front, in view of the street, it would be hard to pretend we weren’t up to no good, especially when the whole place was marked as a construction zone, and we were clearly not construction workers.
“Stay here a sec,” I said when we reached the corner.
“Why?”
“Because I said so. I want to peek in the first window before we expose ourselves too much.”
I expected an argument but didn’t get one.
Darcy waited as I crossed the few feet to the first covered window on ground level.
The crack around the edge of the curtain wasn’t huge, and getting an idea of what lay beyond was next to impossible.
The seam on the other side of the window was wider. I moved to it instead.
Cupping a hand over my eyes, I peered inside, discovering semi-private rows of cubical workspaces with identical computers and rolling chairs at each. A few were occupied. I counted five heads. Guys and girls as young as Darcy were wearing headsets.
“What do you see?” Darcy called, breaking my concentration.
I held up a finger and moved to the next window. Same room. Same setup. Most workspaces on this side were empty, but I counted four more people. The next two windows were dark, so I moved along the wall to the last two windows by the main door.
Beyond the first was what appeared to be a group living space.
Steel-framed single beds lined up in intervals.
Basic blankets and pillows. All the same style and quality.
Bare walls. Plain dressers sporadically placed between beds.
No personal effects. I couldn’t tell how many people it accommodated with my limited view, but guessed about six to eight.
The last window revealed a standard kitchen. Two people sat at a round table, eating something indecipherable from plastic containers.
“What is this place?” Darcy asked over my shoulder, making me start. He stood a few feet away, gawking in the dormitory window.
“I told you to stay put.”
“Yeah, and you told me you were looking in the first window and coming back.”
I scanned the street, panic rising. “Come on. We can’t stay here.”
“But we haven’t learned anything. What happened to those boxes? What’s inside them?”
“I don’t know, but we’re trespassing in broad daylight, and I’m too cute for prison.” I snagged Darcy’s arm and tugged him toward the corner so we could return around back and leave the way we’d come in.
“Who are those people inside? Do you think those boxes were from the storage unit? Can we come back tonight?”
“Maybe. If Diem doesn’t kill us first.”
Safe in the car, I debated calling Diem to tell him what we’d discovered. Instead, I sent him a text. I’ll be home in an hour. We’re safe and well. Stop fretting.
His response came before I started the vehicle. I expected a reprimand. I expected a Diem-worthy “What the fuck?” but got neither.
Get lunch.
“Huh.”
“What?” Darcy asked.
“Well, he didn’t tear me a new asshole, so he must be in a good mood.”
***
Diem was not in a good mood, but he wasn’t in a bad mood. He was in a mood I couldn’t quite decipher.
We arrived an hour later with pizza—Darcy’s choice—to find Diem lying on the ground with Echo and Baby. Cuddling with the former while the latter roamed freely around the apartment.
I stalled in the doorway, hairs rising along my nape.