Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Angelo
“Explain to me again why I was imprisoned for damn near three hours with a pissed off cat,” Al bitches at me by way of greeting.
“It’s a climate-controlled room with snacks, books, and a bathroom. I’d hardly call that imprisonment,” I say dismissively.
“We’ll ask Fabien his opinion on the matter,” she says curtly.
Not ready to open up that can of worms, I tell her, “Someone tried to kidnap Remi, thinking she was you.” And by someone, I mean Fabien pulling the strings from behind bars.
Al gasps excitedly. “Everything dramatic happens when I’m not there. Who wanted to kidnap me?”
“I’m working on it,” I say vaguely.
“Work on it fast, because I’m not going back in the panic room with Nola. Seriously, I thought she was going to claw my face off.”
“I thought you two were getting along?”
“So did I.” Al sighs dramatically. “At least there’s a bathroom. Nature called, and Nola didn’t understand why I wouldn’t let her leave. Eventually, she figured out how to use the toilet, thank God.”
“The cat used the toilet?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but she didn’t flush.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “How inconsiderate of her.”
“I thought so.”
“What are you doing?” It looks like a flour bomb went off in the kitchen.
She looks around before whispering, “I’m baking Remi’s birthday cake for tomorrow. It’s a surprise.”
“That’s thoughtful. I didn’t realize?—”
“That I’m capable of doing something right?” she snipes.
“Al, that’s not fair.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “When have you ever played fair?”
Wanting to rip my hair out, I keep my hands firmly planted by my side. “I’ve reviewed the information you sent about your study abroad program. If Barcelona is where you want to be, then I’ll begin looking for your apartment.”
“Why can’t I stay in a dorm like a normal college student?”
“You want your bodyguard sharing a cracker box of a room with you and another girl?”
“Why do I need a bodyguard? No one will know who I am over there,” she argues.
“This isn’t up for debate.”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, bending over to peer through the oven glass.
“What kind of cake are you baking? Smells good.” I extend an olive branch.
“Red velvet. Remi mentioned it’s her favorite.” She rises to full height, crossing her arms. “If you had any sense at all, you’d end this beef with Fabien, marry Remi, and be happy for once in your miserable life.”
Maks enters the room, flashing a phone.
“The study,” I tell him, and he nods, taking off.
“Al, I am not your enemy, despite what Fabien has put in your head.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You act like I can’t think for myself.”
“Then what do you think? That I should let our brother kill me?” I say, my voice cutting like a knife. “Take over as boss because his precious ego couldn’t stand the fact that he fucked up?”
“Why does it have to be so black and white?” Al cries.
“When Fabien ordered bullets with my name on them, it became black and white.”
I spin on my heel, storming to the study, where I slam the French doors so hard the glass panels shatter.
Cursing, I step over the shards and join Maks, who silently holds out the phone.
“Tell me we have something to work with.” I growl.
“Pull up the message thread between the mayor and Laurie.”
“Laurie?”
It’s the top exchange, and I start from the most recent messages.
Laurie: Angelo’s been at the hospital poking around. Idiot administrator let him in the storage area where there is nothing in storage. It could be a problem.
Mayor: If it’s a problem, fix it.
Laurie: Fixed, courtesy of Angelo’s black card.
Mayor: ????
Laurie: He let me borrow his credit card. I gave it back, but kept the card number. Ha ha! The Mini Mardi Gras parade is now a go, no expense spared!
Mayor: Good. I need another campaign contribution.
Laurie: 10,000 will be coming your way. I’ll have to drum up another fundraiser ASAP.
Grabbing my phone, I call the account manager for my card. “Yes, I want to know about any unusual charges on my card over the past twenty-four hours.”
“Let me pull up those transactions for you, Mr. Calvani.” There’s a pause, and he begins rattling off charges, but my ears perk up when he reports, “$20,413.29 at Carnival World. Is this an unauthorized charge?”
“I’ll get back to you.”
Ending the call, I furiously scroll through the months’ worth of messages.
Mayor: I need a favor.
Laurie: Anything for the future mayor.
Mayor: Angelo Calvani is endangering my campaign.
Laurie: You know Angelo’s loyal to our bumbling incumbent.
Mayor: Persuade him to switch horses.
Laurie: Are you calling yourself a horse’s ass, James?
Mayor: I’m not joking.
Laurie: Sorry, I tried, but Angelo shut down that convo fast.
Ah, now it makes sense why Laurie was so interested in my candidate pick.
Mayor: Then I want dirt on the man. A little birdie told me that you and Angelo were seen canoodling at the Art in the Park fundraiser.
Laurie: I’m not going to mess up my shot with Angelo.
Mayor: Then I’d hate for your “questionable” handling of charity funds while I was a board member to be brought to light now. How embarrassing would that be for the current Chairman of the Board to learn of such scandalous behavior by his paramour…
Laurie: Really, James? Blackmail is it?
Mayor: Nonsense. It’s politics. Scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. You need all that cash laundered anyway.
Laurie: I’m listening.
Mayor: Let’s meet for lunch.
Mayor: Why have I not heard from you?
Laurie: I’m trying, but you’ve met Angelo Calvani. The man is all business. Getting anything personal out of him is like pulling teeth. I’m not a dentist!
Mayor: You can’t tell me this man is a saint. What about in the bedroom? Anything I can embarrass him with?
Laurie: Vanilla as they come, sadly.
My head tips back with laughter.
Laurie was right; I was vanilla as they come. But now, I have a little Cajun seasoning in my life.
“That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.” Maks blinks.
Reading the entire thread, I get out my own phone, making a flurry of phone calls; setting the wheels in motion.
“Now what?” Maks asks me.
“And now, we sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.”
“You know how to relax?” he jokes.
I’m learning.
Remi
“What do you expect me to do when I’m tossed in the water with my arms tied behind my back?” I throw up my hands in frustration.
“This is too extreme,” Alessandra interjects.
“I expect you not to drown.” Maks looks like he wants to point at me, but he can’t because his hands are tied behind his back. But not just his hands, his legs are also bound together at the ankles. He cranes his neck, staring Alessandra down. “It’s called drownproofing, and she will master it.”
“What are the odds of that happening to her again?” Alessandra argues.
“What are the odds of her going into the Mississippi River twice now?” he counters.
“You two are talking about me like I’m not here.” I stomp my foot.
“She will learn.”
“It’s more practical to teach her strokes,” Alessandra argues.
“I don’t recall putting you in charge.”
“Who the hell put you in charge?” she counters.
“I’ll be over here if anyone needs me,” I mutter, plopping my behind in the lounge chair.
Maks toes the edge of the deep end and without hesitation, jumps. To my amazement, he rises to the surface vertically, takes a breath through his mouth, and ducks back under. This goes on for five minutes, by the buzzing of Alessandra’s stop watch.
“Should I let him drown?” she muses when he doesn’t come back up for air.
“Alessandra, no!” I hop out of the lounge chair.
“I’m kidding,” she says, diving with a knife strapped to her thigh. She cuts his ankle and wrist restraints, and they both surface, with Maks taking deep, controlled breaths.
“Cool demonstration. Bye.” I take off running inside the house.
Nola’s on top of the counter, and I chastise her, “Nola, you know Corinne doesn’t like you up there.”
She rises on her hind legs and uses her paw to open the cabinet where her treats are now hidden.
“Alright, you found them. Now what?”
Nola takes a swipe at the jar, and it falls out of the cabinet, shattering on the counter.
Hopping down, she daintily nibbles a treat, giving me a look.
“I’m sorry you had to use the toilet like us barbaric humans!”
“Not again.” Corinne appears from the pantry.
“Sorry about that. I’ll clean it up.”
“No, ma’am, you will not,” she says matter-of-factly.
Guess I won’t. “Do you know where Angelo is?”
“In the cellar.”
“The cellar? Where’s the cellar?” I thought I’d snooped every square inch of this mansion.
“Through the pantry, but you need a key.” She pats her pocket.
I swore off my thievery way too early.
Distracting her, I easily lift the key from her pocket and wait until she’s gone before unlocking the door and walking down into the dark, dank space. Nola’s hot on my heels, and I make a Shhh motion with my finger and mouth. Ahead, there’s a steel door with a red light peeking out beneath it.
My heart in my throat, I’m regretting being such a nosy person. Because what if Alessandra wasn’t joking, and this is where she keeps the bodies?
Turning to run back up the stairs, a hand grabs my ankle, and I scream bloody murder.
“Remi, what are you doing?” Angelo asks in a bemused tone. “And of course, Nola is in the middle of it.”
“What are you doing?” I counter, righting myself and dusting off my dress. “Besides giving an innocent woman a heart attack.”
“An innocent snooping woman? Come on,” he says, opening the steel door and scooping up Nola in his arms.
A red light bulb casts a harsh glare on the room, and I blurt out, “I don’t need to know all your family’s secrets.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Following closely behind him, I peek over his shoulder to find photographs drying on a line.
“This is my makeshift darkroom. I set it up after a certain nosy woman was prowling in my box of college photographs. It reminded me that I’m a photographer.” He watches me with an amused expression. “Why? What did you think it was?”
“Where your sister hides her victims?” I whisper.
“I could see that,” he says solemnly.
“You’re not helping!” I playfully smack his arm. “Why the red light?”
“To keep the black and white paper from getting exposed to light when I’m creating the print from the film negative. And no, you can’t see my project. Out.”
He ushers me out the door, placing Nola down.
“But—”
He closes the door in both our faces.