Chapter 29 Tallus #2
“What if he makes a report?”
“Then he would have a lot of explaining to do. He’s on camera, trying to run me over, and he chased Darcy through the compound.
The same guy who is trying to fly under the radar because he’s scamming old folks out of millions of dollars.
The fire department will soon prove that he set the fire in the unit. ”
“You’re right.”
I assumed we would return to the apartment and call it a night—the storage facility adventure had gotten out of hand—but we didn’t.
As Diem drove, I figured he was searching for a gas station that sold liquor and cigarettes. It wouldn’t have surprised me. When we passed several, and he didn’t turn in, I assumed he was hungry for a specific type of food and was driving to a restaurant.
I didn’t ask and shifted to peer out the window. The rough scratch of papers against my abdomen reminded me of the discovery I’d made inside the storage unit. I tugged them free and unfolded them.
Diem briefly glanced away from the road. “What did you take?”
“Old tax forms from pre-2019. They were in a box marked TO SHRED.” I couldn’t remember off the top of my head what year Lukyan purchased his first investment property, but I suspected this would prove he didn’t have the money to make it happen.
I’ll need to compare numbers and data at the office tomorrow.
I spent ten or fifteen minutes skimming the forms, noting a staggering increase in Lukyan’s income from one year to the next. By the time I looked up to see why we hadn’t arrived at a destination, we were on the 410 heading toward Brampton.
I sat straighter. “D, is this a good idea?”
We originally planned to visit Lukyan’s property in Brampton to see if we could get our hands on those banker boxes, but that was before the storage unit fiasco.
“We need to figure out what the building is used for and learn who the fuck is living there.”
“I know, but… I assumed we were calling it a night. Shouldn’t we regroup? Make a new plan?”
“I put the fear of god in him tonight. He doesn’t know who I am, but if he thinks I’m connected to the police, he won’t be around come morning.”
Diem peered in the rearview mirror.
I glanced back as well. Darcy had drifted off to sleep, his temple pressed to the window. Echo’s head rested in his lap. She, too, was out cold.
“That asshole knows we broke into his unit,” Diem continued in a hushed tone.
“He knows we’re connected to Darcy. Therefore, he knows we’re onto him and his grandparent scheme.
If we don’t find proof fast, we’re going to lose him for good.
He’s a multi-millionaire. He’s probably got a fucking jet somewhere that can get him out of the country on a moment’s notice.
For all we know, he’s fueling up to leave right now.
If we’re right about this, and if he’s caught, he will spend the rest of his life behind bars, and he knows it. ”
So we were off to his purportedly abandoned property in Brampton that was supposed to be under construction. It was midnight before we arrived. The surrounding streets were quiet. The windows that had been lit earlier were dark. No sign of life within the fence. No sign of Lukyan.
Only one thing was different from earlier. The gate Lukyan had used, the one that had been locked, sat wide open.
Diem parked in a convenience store lot caddy corner, and we stared at the building. I waited for Diem to decide our approach.
“That gate was locked earlier,” I said, pointing.
“You mentioned there were people inside?”
“Yes, but I saw a dorm room. I suspect they sleep here. Maybe they leave at night.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Eight to ten. I might not have seen everyone. I didn’t have a good line of sight.”
“Okay. I’m going to knock.”
“You’re what?” My voice pitched higher and louder than I intended.
Diem glanced in the rearview mirror again and shushed me before gesturing that I should follow. We exited the Jeep quietly.
Echo lifted her head with questions in her eyes.
Diem reassured her we would be back in a minute and instructed her to stay with Darcy.
As though understanding, she rested her head back in the kid’s lap with a chuff, but I swear to god she side-eyed me with her doggy intelligence as though blaming me for this nighttime adventure that had gone on long past her bedtime.
Diem marched to the temporary fence surrounding the building, head on a swivel as he scanned the area. He tugged the gate closed behind us, but without a latch, it swung wide again.
“What do you mean we’re going to knock?” I asked, following Diem to the main door.
Diem peeked in a nearby window, but it was dark inside, and he must not have been able to see anything. “I mean, I’m going to knock.” And with a fist—his left, I noticed—he pounded with the proficiency and assuredness of a determined cop.
It was an apartment complex. The main door led into what seemed to be a lobby, so when nobody answered, I figured it had more to do with no one hearing us. It was too dark to see far inside, even with my hands cupped over the glass.
Diem knocked a second time but must have come to the same conclusion. He moved to the window again, tried to see beyond, then asked, “Is this one of the dorms?”
“Kitchen. That one’s a dorm.” I pointed to the next in line.
Diem went to the window, didn’t bother trying to see beyond, and pounded on the glass with similar intensity. I cringed, waiting for it to crack under the assault. If anyone was asleep inside, they wouldn’t be anymore.
No one responded. “They could be spooked,” I said. “If someone pounded on my window at night, I’d hide under the bed.”
Undeterred, Diem pounded again. When he got no answer, he moved along the side of the building, rapping on every window to no avail. We’d made enough noise to wake the dead. If anyone was inside, they were alert to our presence.
Giving up, Diem scanned the exterior of the building. “No cameras?”
“No.”
Diem glanced up. “No balconies?”
“Around the sides and back.”
He aimed for the corner.
The balconies didn’t start until the second level, and as he stood below one, examining it, I groaned, knowing what he was thinking before he spoke. Balcony doors were easy to jimmy. Often easier than getting through locked windows in commercial buildings.
“Come here. I’ll give you a boost. Grab the bottom rung of the rail and pull yourself up. Break in, then come down and unlock the front door.”
“Boost myself up. In what universe do you think me capable of boosting myself up?”
“I’ll help.”
I craned my neck, studying the obstacle while envisioning all the ways it could go wrong. “Scaling balconies and running. All in one day. Remind me again why I complain about desk work?”
Diem smirked. “Are you rethinking your job description?”
“I’m rethinking my life choices. I should have gotten myself a sugar daddy like Memphis, then I could lounge on the couch all day and watch reality TV while a manservant named Jeeves fed me peanut butter cookies and grapes.”
Diem chuckled. “Sorry I don’t make millions like Joshua.”
“It’s all right. I still love you. Plus, Joshua is younger than Memphis, so he’s all sugar and no daddy. They’re two bottom bitches, too. I don’t even understand how they work together.”
“Is this the kind of thing you think about?”
“In my spare time, and I have a lot of spare time at my other job. You know, the one where I don’t have to run and scale buildings like I’m Spider-Man.”
“Can we do this, or should I pop popcorn and rub your feet?”
I tried to crack my knuckles to look tough—they didn’t crack—then I performed a few lunges to warm up my muscles.
Diem chuckled. “You look ridiculous.”
“I may not be strong, but I’m limber.”
“Don’t I know it. Are you ready?”
“Nope. Not at all, but here we go.”
Diem managed to boost me—with difficulty—to his shoulders. I almost fell twice, but he caught me both times. Using the wall for balance, my legs shaking, I reached for the bottom rung of the railing. I caught it easily, but didn’t have enough upper body strength to pull myself up, so I dangled.
“Help. I can’t do it.”
“Yes you can. Stand on my hands. I’ll push you higher. Swing a leg to the platform.”
“D, you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine. Do it.”
Diem got his hands under my shoes and heaved me higher. I warbled, but he steadied me. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what kind of weight he used for overhead presses because this was fucking insane. I wasn’t a big guy, but the last time I stood on a scale, I tipped one forty-five.
“Oh my god, don’t drop me.”
“Get up, Tallus.” The strain in his voice told me I wasn’t as light as he hoped, and this wasn’t as easy as he made it look.
“I’m trying.” I groped for a higher handhold and swung a leg as he instructed, trying to catch the edge of my shoe on the platform.
I banged my ankle on the first attempt, then thought I was going to fall when I couldn’t find Diem’s makeshift hand perch, and my leg swung free. He grasped the sole of my swinging shoe and alleviated some of the weight off my arms.
The second time I swung a leg, my stupid Converse slipped. I kicked Diem in the face, lost my grip on the railing, and landed heavily in his arms. The momentum sent us off balance, and we crashed to the ground, both of us laughing.
“This isn’t working.”
His chest bounced, arms squeezing me tight. “Again.”
I groaned. “You are having too much fun at my expense.”
Diem got me to his shoulders, and I grasped the rail. He heaved me higher, bracing each foot. My hands ached. Muscles I didn’t know I owned burned. When I swung a leg, I didn’t come close to reaching the platform.
“This is ridiculous. I can’t do it.”
“If you don’t, you’re getting a fucking gym membership, and I will wake you at five a.m. every day to work out.”
“That’s not fair.” I whimpered, even though I’d been contemplating the same thing lately. “How am I this weak?”
“Lattes and peanut butter cookies.”
I kicked him in the face again—accidentally on purpose.