17. Deep inside the cocoon
Chapter 17
Deep inside the cocoon
TOMER
L ettie winks at me as she unexpectedly sashays into the lair, making my heart rate increase. “Hi, gang.”
“Hey, Lettie,” Mia chirps, unfettered excitement in her tone.
Boss comes in behind her, dampening my mood a touch. Still so damn awkward.
Klein lowers the volume on his Rat Pack playlist. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“We got a message from Savin and Tasha,” Big Al responds, wasting no time in getting to the point. “I asked Lettie about it, and aside from a butterfly reference, we’re at a loss. Thought we could talk through it.”
No clue why he’s bringing Lettie into this. I’m not opposed to her helping, but I don’t want to sacrifice her emotional wellbeing.
Giving her a quick glance, it’s clear she’s eagerly participating. It settles my worries some.
I clear my throat. “Is this about the box?”
Boss nods, holding my eye contact for the first time in a while. “Yes. I had my WITSEC contact relay a few questions. They answered about the box. Not the others.”
“Answering might be a stretch,” Lettie quips. “Listen to this message.”
Boss glances at his tablet. “Best thing about butterflies is deep inside cocoon is where magic happens.”
He lowers the tablet, his eyes searching our faces for any signs of recognition. More than likely, he’s finding none. That message is freaking baffling.
“Tasha called me butterfly when we were in the house,” Lettie offers.
“Well, what’s deep inside your cocoon?” Klein jokes, then immediately cups his hand over his mouth. His eyes triple in size. “Sorry, Lettie. I did not mean for it to come out that way.”
Lettie busts out in hysterics, her gentle giggle quickly becoming an outright cackle. Mia and I join in. Klein lowers his head to his desk with a soft thud, his ears turning as red as a tomato.
Boss saunters over to our whiteboard and writes the message across the top. Occasionally, his shoulders shake with silent laughter.
I trade looks with Lettie, and she discreetly places her hand on her belly. Our baby is deep inside the butterfly’s cocoon. I wink at her, bringing a fresh wave of rosiness to her cheeks.
When the vibe sobers, Boss tips his head at my girl. “My gut tells me the message was intended for Lettie, or she might be the key to solving it.”
“Would have been nice if Savin and Tasha were clear about that shit,” I grumble, tracing my eyes over the top of the board to study the message.
“They’re responding in code because they don’t trust anyone,” Mia throws a glance at me before returning her line of sight to the board. “I suspect they don’t even trust their WITSEC coordinator. Probably think the message will make it to the wrong people. If they’re too clear, whatever’s in that box will be in jeopardy or lose value.”
“Where is the box?” Lettie asks me. “Is it still at home?”
“I brought it in the other day.” Retrieving it from a shelf, I place it on the table and sit beside Lettie. If looking at it upsets her, I should be close enough to offer comfort.
She timidly removes the lid from the shoe box, peeking inside. Item by item, she empties it, arranging the contents in a line.
Two protein bars. A handful of Hershey’s Kisses. Goldfish crackers. A chocolate bar. The Russian nesting dolls figurine. A novel. And the Narcan.
We all study the contents carefully. Lettie flips through the book.
Like I’ve done several times before, I pick up the empty shoe box and check it inside and out, searching for a false bottom or something we could have missed. No matter how many times I look, it’s still a fucking shoe box.
Lettie studies a protein bar for a beat, turning it around in her hands and bending the wrapper. “May I open this, please?”
“Lovely manners,” I tease quietly. “If you’re hungry, I can get you?—”
Her hands flop to the table, protein bar and all. “I’m not gonna eat them, silly,” she huffs, rolling her beautiful eyes at me.
“Inside the cocoon,” Mia mutters from behind me, easing her way to the table. “I say we open them. Lettie’s on to something.”
I scan my team’s faces, finding no objections. “Let’s do it.”
Everyone grabs an item, tearing off the wrappers with renewed excitement.
“Just chocolate,” Klein announces first, his lower lip jutted. “Is it weird I was expecting a golden ticket to be under the wrapper?”
Mia snickers—the laugh, not the candy. “It’s perfectly you, Cal.”
“Just a protein bar,” Lettie announces. “Unless...” She breaks the bar in half, then repeats it on each half. “Nothing.”
My gaze circles the table. Everyone reeks of disappointment. Boss crunches the crackers into crumbs on the table, still optimistically searching for something.
Anything.
But there’s nothing but crumbs.
“Why the fuck did he want us to get this box so damn bad?” he grumbles.
“It might have sentimental value to Tasha,” Lettie suggests. “It was her only comfort in there. This, a pillow, and a blanket in that disgusting wall cubby. She was proud of that little space. Perhaps she just wants the box back.”Once the words are out, she shakes her head, rejecting her theory. “No, that’s not it. Why send the message instead of asking for the box back?”
Klein holds up the nesting doll, twirling it between his fingers before setting it down.“Anyone know what the symbolism is with these?”
Mia rolls her chair back to her computer, her fingers clacking away. “Motherhood, I think.” A few seconds later, she announces, “They symbolize fertility, the mother’s womb, pregnancy, and carrying the family’s legacy. That’s the series of smaller dolls inside, all coming from the mother figurine.”
A squeak comes from Lettie when she fails to choke off her gasp. She pushes back from the table, stands, and yanks on my ear. “Can I see you in the hall for a minute, please?”
Klein and Mia, both of whom know she’s pregnant, shoot me knowing looks braided with concern. I avoid Big Al’s gaze so he can’t do his brain probe and find out I knocked up his daughter.
Once we’re in the hallway, Lettie closes the door behind us. Her expression screams at me despite her mouth never moving. She clamps my hands in a death grip.
“I know what you’re thinking, sugar bear.”
In a panicked whisper, she says, “How could Tasha know I’m pregnant?”
“She doesn’t know. That’s impossible.”
“Inside the butterfly’s cocoon? And then the damn mother symbolism? What else could that mean?”
“It’s a coincidence. Those dolls have been in the box since I got it out of that house. We only found out you were pregnant a week ago.”
She shakes loose of my hands to cover her face. “You’re right. You gotta be. I’m overreacting in accordance with my default programming.”
My mouth quirks at her little techy joke. She did that for me.
When she meets my eyes again, she seems calmer. But it’s clearly forced.
I wrap her in my arms, hoping to infuse her with some of my comfort. “You okay?”
She raises her chin, eyes flickering with a spark of mirth. “Of course I am. It just so happens I’m an incredibly stable and level-headed woman. In no way did I make a scene.”
“What scene? There was no scene. It was a scene-less exit,” I toss back, playful enough to hopefully bring a smile to her sweet face.
It works.
After a quick peck, I usher her back inside. “Sorry about that. Anyone figure it out yet?”
Boss eyes us closely. “Nope. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Lettie responds. “I thought I left the stove on at home. He said I didn’t. All good.”
Still a terrible liar.
She starts fiddling with the dolls, separating and checking inside them one by one. We’ve done that already, but I let her go. It helps to do something.
Turning to the board, Boss asks, “What’s the latest with the other shit? Anything new?”
“With Yev in jail, we’ve got the entire trafficking ring dismantled and evidence on all of them except Viktor,” Klein offers.
My skin crawls at the sound of his name.
“Don’t forget the customers ,” Lettie adds without taking her eyes off the figurines.
It’s no surprise she’s bringing them up. In addition to the six men who staffed the house and assaulted the women, there was a revolving door of those who paid for the chance to help train the women.
I want them all dead.
Mia looks up from her computer. “Did any of the perps they arrested talk about who the customers might be? Or how we can track them? Anything new there?”
I glance at Lettie to ensure she’s not growing uncomfortable with the topic. She appears fine. Preoccupied by studying the dolls.
Focusing on Boss, I relay our status. “Detective Salgado says the men they have in custody—the few who are talking—claim they never handled that. They just found out when someone was coming to the house, and if they knew the password, they let them in. The information on the phone I lifted from one of them supports that.”
Boss tips his chin at one section of the board. “Any luck on decoding Yuri’s tale of Icarus? Last I heard, Sue was looking into that.”
Klein perks up. “She sent me a message earlier, saying she wanted to talk to us about it today after she and Lionheart get into the office.”
Big Al checks his watch. “Where the fuck are they?”
Klein turns away from Boss, uttering quietly, “Doctor appointment.”
It’s odd that he’s trying to conceal it. There’s no way Boss doesn’t know Maddie’s daughter-in-law is pregnant.
“Did you guys x-ray this?” Lettie asks, holding up the smallest of the Russian dolls.
“We scanned it with a hand-held metal detector,” I answer.
Eyes discerning, she balances it in the palm of her hand. “One of the families I babysat for back in Climax had one of these. The little girl was obsessed with stacking and unstacking it, so I handled it a lot. In her set, the smallest one was heavier than the rest. I only remember that because I found it odd at the time.”
Mia leaves her workstation, returning to the table where we’ve all gathered. “And?
“It was heavier because it was solid, whereas the others were hollow.” Lettie grabs the doll that’s one size bigger and rests it in her other hand, comparing the two like the scales of justice. “However, the smaller one is lighter in this set. Perhaps it’s also hollow.”
She raises the hand with the larger of the two. “This is the second-to-smallest figurine. And it’s barely bigger than the baby. But it’s heavier by quite a bit. Doesn’t make sense. Should have used less wood to make it than the baby.”She adjusts her positioning, lowering the larger doll and raising the smaller one. “Assuming it’s the same type of wood, I’d have expected the baby to weigh more. But it’s lighter.”
Boss braces himself on the back of one of the chairs, his arms stiffening. “If it’s lighter, there’s even less of a chance that something’s inside it.”
“A jump drive or something with some weight to it, sure.” She sets the baby doll in the middle of the table. “Paper, however, weighs next to nothing.”
Klein and Mia trade glances and then shoot wide eyes at me.
Boss rubs his palms together. “Did you guys get photos of it already?”
“Yep,” I answer, searching the room for something heavy.
When I don’t find anything fast enough, I grab the doll and place it on the floor. One hard stomp of my boot heel and a soothing crackle greets our ears.
Pulling my foot away, I quickly stoop and find a tiny piece of paper among the splintered wood pile.
Lettie tips her chin up, crossing her arms at her chest. Wearing a well-earned smirk, she says, “Deep inside the cocoon is where the magic happens.”
Impressed murmurs and whispers fill the lair.
“What does it say?” Boss asks me.
“I don’t know.” That hurt to admit more than I expected. I glance at Mia and Klein. “Either of you recognize this language?”
They wrinkle their noses.
Mia extends her palm, and I pass the paper to her.
After studying it briefly, she mumbles, “I think it’s Greek.”
“Like Yuri’s story,” Lettie muses.
Mia heads to her computer to look it up, and I trail her a step behind. While I wait for her to translate it, my phone rings.
“This is Tomer,” I answer.
“Not sure if this is good or bad news for you,” Detective Salgado begins, omitting a pointless greeting. “Yevdokim Ivanovich was killed in jail this morning.”
Oh fuck.
Our case against Viktor just lost a key witness.