Chapter 28
Betty
I linked arms with Sybil as we made our way down the hill and toward the shed.
She looked my way, taking in my robe and messy hair.
In turn, I admired her hiking gear. She dressed impeccably, and that made me proud.
Everything coordinated in shades of black and gray, her usual style, especially considering her inability to see colors.
She always wore some variation of gray. I’m sure it made things easier that way.
She would always be an enigma to me, but her mysteries were precisely what made her so special.
“Where did you all even come from?” I asked.
Sybil shrugged, “It’s a long story.” She glanced down at her boots. “Nash has been a wreck for days. When he got your message, he was impossible to be around. Honestly, Bill and I were doing anything to avoid him. He paced a crater through Scotland, I swear.” She shook her head.
I laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“I know, he’s so intense sometimes,” she went on. “But eventually I got fed up. I finally suggested we come to find you and use the location on your phone to do it, and it was like a switch flipped in his head. I guess he hadn’t thought to do that.”
I laughed again. “No. Nash was never good with logistics.”
She grinned, but also looked wistful and in love with his quarks. “Nash and I cut our Scotland trip short and flew to Toronto the next day, which was three days ago. Once in Canada, Nash arranged a helicopter, and you know him, he got really pumped about it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course,” I agreed.
Nash loved flying helicopters. When we were young, he would join my father on his helicopter trips around the city.
When working with bigger art collectors and clients, we often flew between penthouses in New York, which was much faster than sitting in traffic.
Once Nash was old enough, he started taking lessons and earned his license.
My brow knitted together, and I looked around at the surrounding forest. “But where on earth did he land it?”
She gestured towards the cliff I’d climbed and the field beside it.
“Out in the field over there, the same place your phone pinged.” She gave me a wry smile.
“By the way, we found your phone in the grass. I don’t think it’ll work anymore, though.
The entire thing looked like it’d fallen from the sky. ”
I threw my head back and laughed. “It practically did! I tossed that piece of shit off a cliff!”
She began laughing along with me.
“It’s funny you found it,” I said, catching my breath. “I hadn’t even considered Nash could track my location. I guess I’m glad now that he could.”
She was still fighting giggles. “Yeah, he was really glad, too. That is, until he realized that if we could trace you, then bad people could too. He spent several hours freaking out about that on our flight from Scotland to Canada, especially given your rather cryptic message about the mafia on your tail. The minute we got off the plane in Canada, he had the entire phone line swept for other traces and then removed the number altogether. So, sorry, you’ll have to get a new number now. ” She grimaced.
I snorted. “I suppose that’s one way to shut down all those late-night booty calls—cancel the phone number.”
She let out a bark of laughter. “Betty! You rake!”
I chuffed. “Some of those dudes were so persistent. I had a lot of ‘DO NOT ANSWER’ phone numbers saved in my phone,” I joked. “But I should probably let Gray know that no one else is tracing me. I’m sure he’s also concerned about who else might find us if you guys did.”
“I bet Nash will tell him,” Sybil said reassuringly.
“So how did you find the cabin?” I went on.
She waved me off as though the answer were obvious. “Oh, that was easy. From above, it’s quite the spectacle—not to mention the smoke.”
Of course, between the structures and chimney smoke, not to mention the glare coming off the solar panels and the dramatic river running past, I’m sure it wasn’t hard to spot.
I grinned wickedly to myself. “Do you think Nash and Gray are talking, or killing each other up there?”
We’d arrived at the shed at a leisurely pace. As I led Sybil inside, I shut the door behind us to trap in more warmth and hopefully keep the boys at bay.
Sybil dropped her hold on my arm. “No. Before we came in from the porch earlier, I instructed him not to hurt Gray. I warned him I’d deny him sex if Gray sustained even the slightest injury.
I should admit, Nash pulled a gun on Gray when he first got here, but he’s calmer now that he knows you’re alive and safe. ”
“A gun? I’m sure Gray loved that.” I’m surprised his PTSD hadn’t kicked in.
My tub was steaming and ready with little spring daisies floating on the surface. Despite my concern for Gray, a little smirk touched my lips. He’d prepared this for me, and I loved that.
Sybil was scrutinizing my expression again; I could feel her gaze burning a hole in my cheek.
“You don’t seem in need of saving,” she went on, walking over to the tub and dipping her hand into the water to pluck out a flower.
“If I’m not mistaken, you look like you’re thriving out here.
I mean, this is rather glorious.” She spun the daisy between her fingers.
Nodding, I replied, “I could say the same about you. It appears Scotland has been good to you.” I removed my robe and stepped into the tub.
Sybil cleared a few things from the bench and sat down, facing me.
“Scotland was a dream. Much like this, really. It was quiet and secluded, with hardly anyone around. Life moved at a much slower pace, which I really needed.” She tucked her hands between her knees, gazing dreamily at the lights above.
“Perhaps we should come out here to the forest and create our own little spot. We can be neighbors. Get away from New York now and then.”
I added soap to the water and swished it around, making bubbles. “Yes! Sybil, that’s a brilliant idea. It would be wonderful to have you out here with me!”
Her gaze grew sharp. “Ah. See... you really do love it here. If you didn’t, I don’t think you’d say that. You sound ready to stay.”
Her observation was accurate. I kinda wanted to stay. The thought of her building a place here excited me more than returning to that huge, empty New York townhouse alone. Still, I missed New York. It would be nice to have the option of going back from time to time for a visit, or to shop around.
My fingers popped some of the larger bubbles on the surface. “I miss New York, though. I mean, I love it here a lot, but I don’t want to give up the city entirely. I hate having to avoid something just because some jerk is after me.”
She giggled. “Of course you don’t want to give it up! You wouldn’t be Betty if you let people tell you what to do, and you wouldn’t be Betty without New York.”
I nodded. “Exactly. I just don’t know how to get us out of this mess.”
Sybil sighed. “Well, I had this one rather crazy idea.”
I tilted my head, questioning her with a look as she picked at her sleeve. “What idea is that?” I asked.
Her blue eyes met mine. “I kind of… miss painting,” she confided, almost in a whisper. “I mean, you’re here because of the Rembrandt, right?”
I nodded, wondering where she was going with this.
“Well, I have a skill called painting,” she winked. “And you’re in a bind with some expensive, rare art. So, there must be a way we can strike a deal with his family, right? Perhaps I could paint something and they’d accept it as retribution, like a trade?”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’d do that? But… your art is worth more than the Rembrandt. That doesn’t seem fair.”
She shrugged, a thoughtful but surprised expression crossing her face. “I’m actually getting chills hearing you say that. To think my art is more valuable than a Rembrandt is insane.”
I leaned forward to emphasize my point. “But it is, Sybil! Don’t sell yourself short.”
She rolled her eyes, as she always did when receiving a compliment. “Well, whatever, but it costs me nothing to paint you something. It almost feels like cheating. But that’s beside the point. The real goal here is to buy back your freedom, and Gray’s too.”
I mulled it over. “I suppose we’d need to know Gray’s thoughts on the matter. If it’s even workable. I doubt he’s eager to negotiate with the man who murdered his family, and he’s certainly not willing to trust him again.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “His uncle murdered Gray’s family?”
I frowned, realizing this was news to her. “I only just found out the full extent of it myself,” I said. “It’s a terrible story. His uncle is a wicked man.”
Her mouth, which had been hanging open, snapped shut, and she grumbled. It was a funny sound coming from sweet little Sybil, like a kitten trying to be fierce. “That bastard should fall into a sewer hole and die.”
I huffed. “One can only hope.”
“Well, screw that, I’m not painting anything for him,” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d rather sell the painting and hire a hitman.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not a bad idea, little Miss John Wick.”
She glowered. “But maybe we shouldn’t turn to murder?”
I had to agree. Besides, that wasn’t Gray’s wish either—despite what his uncle had done to him and his family, he didn’t want to commit the same atrocities in retribution, at least not directly.
“Yeah, stealing is one thing, but murder is just… gross. We’re smarter than that.
Homicide is for people who can’t think their way out of a tight spot. ”
Sybil nodded, her hands settling in her lap as she idly scratched at the black polish on her nails. “Even so, there has to be something; we just need to think.” She shook her head as if to change the topic. “But enough of that for now, tell me about Gray. What happened?”
I slouched and chuckled. “Girl, so many things.”
“You seem to enjoy what he’s offering,” she said, her eyebrows waggling in a knowing way.
A laugh bubbled up. “Only just recently.”
“What happened before now? Lady, what could possibly stop you from jumping his bones? He is a certified man-cannon, and you’ve been pining after him for months,” she pressed.
Nodding, I piled bubbles into a mound in front of me. “Well, I mean, I was a little angry at first.”
She nodded emphatically. “Understandable.”
“Then, stubborn.”
She nodded even more emphatically. “That tracks.”
“And I was worried about you, Nash, and my dad. I’m still worried about Dad,” I said, my face crumpling as if I might cry, though I held it back. “I will not go off and have a whirlwind romance while the rest of you fend for yourselves.”
Sybil nodded but looked ready to rebuke. “Bee, Nash checked on your dad before we left Toronto. He was fine, I promise. Nash also has his own people watching out for him. In addition, Nash’s sources say there is quite a force of FBI operatives hovering around.”
I choked back a sudden sob. “Gray assured me Dad was being kept safe.”
She grinned. “Well, Gray wasn’t wrong. Your dad is safe and believes you’re with us, which, coincidentally, you are!”
I let out a relieved sigh. “You’re quite the little therapist, you know that?”
Sybil chuckled. “Heaven knows I’ve had plenty of practice.”
I flicked a few bubbles her way and laughed.
When the laughter subsided, she looked me over, not missing a single beat. “So, this is Gray’s uncle who’s after you?”
I tried not to let that affect me as much as it did.
“Yeah. He has—or had—three uncles. His dad was the eldest of the four sons. Then there was his uncle David; I think he’s still alive.
Matteo, who’s our problem, is younger than David.
And then the youngest… that was Luca.” I exhaled slowly, shaking my head.
“Luca’s family was also killed in a way similar to Gray’s.
To me, it seems like a pretty classic power struggle, like you’d see in a movie. ”
“They’re animals!” she hissed.
“Well, it is the mafia. They aren’t exactly warm and fuzzy,” I said.
She grumbled adorably. “You’d think by now they’d have a more efficient way of doing things, wouldn’t you? I mean, does killing people really solve anything?” she asked.
I had to agree.
She went on, “What about this older uncle, David? Why can’t he step in? He’s older than Matteo, right? Why can’t he just kick his little brother’s ass or something?”
I hadn’t really thought about it. Gray had shared little about David, but really? I didn’t want to push too hard, not yet. “I’m sure David is probably just focused on surviving. Maybe he fears Matteo?” I replied.
She shrugged. “It’s worth considering. I mean, I may not be prepared to hire a hitman to kill this guy, but maybe there are others willing to do something about it?
‘Murder adjacent’, so to speak. Perhaps we could approach the other uncle and gauge his opinion on his brother’s dealings?
It wouldn’t hurt to poke around, right?”
I held my breath and submerged myself in the water to ponder.
In my view, no, it wouldn’t be harmful to gather information, provided it didn’t increase our vulnerability.
As I surfaced, Sybil was waiting, anticipating my answer.
“Let’s speak with Gray. Surely he can contact David and get some answers. ”
She nodded once, as if to seal the deal, then scooted the stool closer. “So, tell me something good. I need a laugh.”
It wasn’t difficult to find a story to tell. “Well, you have to hear about the diaper incident.”
Her eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “Diaper?”
“Oh yeah,” I giggled. “And the bear sleepover.”
She leaned back in shock. “Bear!? Damn, girl, you’ve been busy. I should have just honeymooned here!”
I smiled.
She bit her lip, thinking. “And I also want to know about that weasel thing Gray was carrying. He was so cute. I want one.”
“Oh yes. Larry…” I grumbled and rolled my eyes. “Don’t even get me started on that little demon.”