Chapter 7
7
J AMES
I exit the building and walk down the street, counting the blocks.
Soon I spot where Isabella May lives. A reading light glows on the second floor making the inside of her place visible from the outside.
The curtains are tucked to the side, and a dark green sofa separates the bookcases propped against the wall.
A silhouette slides across, and I get a glimpse of the woman. Long, dark hair cascades down her back.
That’s her.
With the collar of my jacket popped high, I sneak behind the trees lining the sidewalk and catch the moment when Isabella May walks out of the room before climbing the stairs of the building across from hers and slipping inside her neighbor’s house without being seen.
Moments later, I knock on the door.
Steps move closer, and then all I hear is silence.
“Open the door.”
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice echoes behind the door.
“Tiago Rossi’s friend,” I say, my head tilted down, my face hidden in the darkness.
A pause follows.
“He has no friends,” she says after a few moments.
“How would I know about you then?”
My question is met with silence.
“Open the door, Abby. This is important, and it could save his life.”
A few more seconds pass before the lock shifts, and the door slides open. The woman steps forward, trying to catch sight of me.
I step out of the shadow, grab her by the elbow, and nudge her back in.
“Hey,” she says as I shut the door behind us.
The faint light coming from the ceiling falls over me.
Thunderstruck, she pulls back.
“What the fuck...?” she mumbles, unable to peel her eyes away from me. “Who are you?” she murmurs, her breath shaking.
“Can we talk?” I ask, flicking my chin toward the living room.
She steps backward, stumbling over the furniture.
“Yes…” she says hesitantly before showing me to the room.
It’s a small space with books tucked in bookcases, a couple of armchairs, and a sofa, the kind of antique furniture you’d find at a flea market.
I slide onto the couch.
Still standing, she stares at me with unabashed curiosity.
“What do you want from me?” she asks, her eyes moving over me. “You can’t be his friend...” she says. “He never had any real friends.”
“Do I look like his friend?” I ask, giving her a small smile, trying to quench the woman’s apprehension.
She leans against the table.
“He didn’t have any family left other than his mother,” she says, still very much baffled.
“And his father.”
“Who hasn’t kept in touch with him,” she adds. “He would’ve told me if there was someone else.”
I study her face before gesturing to one of the armchairs.
“Take a seat, Abby.”
“How do you know my name?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Searching my eyes, she slowly lowers herself into her seat, her gaze locked with mine.
“I came to you because I need to find him before the other people do,” I say.
Suspicion creeps over her face.
“I have no idea where he is,” she says.
Lifting an eyebrow, I slowly fold my arms over my chest.
“You know he’s in danger.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He wouldn’t have vanished if he weren’t.”
“Listen...”
She pauses.
“James,” I say.
“James. I don’t know who you are. You look exactly like him, and I can only assume you two are related. Perhaps you’re his brother. But even if that were the case, I still can't help you. Tiago and I are only friends and nothing more. If he went away, he must’ve had his reasons. And as I told the people who came looking for him a while back, Tiago and I have separate lives,” she says nervously.
“Not separate enough for him not to visit you in the middle of the night a few times a week.”
Her face is pale like the lamp on the side table.
“And not to fuck him while he was in high school,” I add.
Life goes out of her eyes.
“That is not true.”
“Oh, yes, it is, darling.”
“He was already out of school,” she blurts, her face scarlet. “And I did everything I could to stay away from him.”
“Like quitting your teaching job and following him to London.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“And living only a few blocks away from him.”
Her hands fly up.
“Okay... All right. I didn’t want to follow him, but I needed a fresh start once I quit my teaching career. Besides, we’d never been a real couple, and we’d been on and off. And there were other women in between, as you can imagine.”
“And yet, you’re the one he trusts the most. And that’s exactly why I’m here. I want to know where he is.”
She leans back in her seat, looking frazzled.
“Do you have his money?” I shoot at her directly.
Her eyebrows slide up.
“What money?”
She seems genuinely surprised.
“Tell me more about him...” I say, shifting gears and not offering more information.
She weighs her answer.
“He got into some trouble with the people he had worked for. That’s all I know.”
“Right.”
“And I suspect those people came looking for him.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it.”
“How do you keep in touch with him?”
“I don’t.”
I tip my head to the side, visibly disappointed with her.
She raises her hand.
“Before I go any further...” she says. “How come he had no idea he had a brother? If you are indeed his brother.”
“That’s a question for our mother.”
She tips her gaze down.
“Okay. Fair enough.”
“How does he keep in touch with you?”
She sighs.
“Once in a while, he calls me from a burner phone.”
“Where exactly is he?”
“He didn’t say.”
I shoot her a stern stare.
“I can’t tell you. Even if you have the best intentions, they can get to you and then to him. And they can do a lot of harm to him.”
“They got to you, and you didn’t tell them anything. Or did you?”
I notice a slight flick of her eyebrows and uncross my arms.
“Did you?” I bark.
“I didn’t need to. They already knew.”
“What did they know?”
“That he’s out of the country.”
“Where exactly is he?”
“St. Petersburg, Russia. They asked me about the money, but I don’t know anything about the money.”
“Do you have an address?”
“No.”
“A contact? Something?”
“No. Nothing. And that’s the truth. I told them that too. I had nothing to give them because I don’t know much.”
“Did he leave anything with you?” I ask.
I remember the man I ran into in Tiago’s apartment.
Seemingly, the brothers are more interested in getting their money than chasing him on the Russians’ turf.
She ponders, her eyes going blank.
“I don’t know... Not much. Nothing of importance. A few clothes, books. His drawings and a diary.”
“Drawings?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes light up with a smile.
“He’s really good. I kept all of them.”
“And a diary?”
“Yes, but he never wanted me to read it, so he gave it to me in a safe box.”
“Where’s the safe box?”
“In my storage unit.”
“Okay. Where’s your phone?”
She glances around, a bit dazed, before finally spotting her purse on the table.
She scoops it out and hands it to me.
“I need this phone for the next few days,” I say, sliding her cell into my pocket.
“I use it for work.”
“Get another one. Here...” I say, fishing out cash from inside my jacket. “This is for a new phone and to cover any work-related expenses. Although if I were you, I’d take a few days off and go out of town. Those people might try to talk to you again,” I say. “They want to get his money. Or to bring him back. And you, my dear, are instrumental in accomplishing their goal.”
“He’s supposed to call this coming Wednesday,” she says in a breath as I push out of my seat and pivot away from her.
I glance over my shoulder.
“Tell him that I’m okay,” she says nervously.
I keep my eyes on her for a second.
“You’re going to be fine. Just take my advice and leave.”
“Okay,” she says in a softer voice. “Thank you, James.”
I give her a clipped nod before walking out the door.