Chapter 19
TALIN
“How do you even know it’s here?” I shimmy sideways and have to pause as my dress gets snagged on a nail.
Cursing softly, I manage to untangle myself without doing too much damage.
It’s one thing, sneaking around this house, but it’s another trying to do it without looking like I crawled through a sewer when it’s over.
“Easy, I threatened some old people.” Brenden’s having a harder time of it since he’s much bigger. I’m in the lead, since I know these passages better and I have a better sense of the house’s layout, but he’s keeping pace.
“Sorry, what now?”
“Don’t worry. They’re assholes.”
I screw up my face at him in the darkness broken only by a weakened beam of my iPhone’s light. “The Davises.”
“Took me a while to find the right angle. Did you know they have three kids?”
“Honestly didn’t think they were capable of reproducing.”
“Right, they really do come off like aliens, but it’s true. Their precious youngest works for JP Morgan as some shitty low level stock analyst. He also really likes hiring obscenely young-looking Asian hookers and snorting coke off their tits.”
“Oh wow.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t a fun weekend.”
I choose not to ask him for details. “So you used that against them?”
“I had to lean on the old lady pretty hard. Her husband’s not as sharp, which is actually a problem. He doesn’t know where the bodies are buried. But that old biddy? She’s the real killer.”
“Huh.” I try to picture old Mrs. Davis with a bloody knife in her hand and find it surprisingly easy. “But how did she know?”
“She doesn’t have details, but she’s aware of a ledger he keeps in a safe deposit box. Then it was a matter of elimination.”
“Wait a second.” I stop abruptly. He bumps into me in the darkness. “You don’t actually know where it is?”
“I have ideas.”
“We’re risking our lives on ideas?!”
He touches my wrist. “Stay calm.”
“Brenden!” I’m tempted to scream, but it wouldn’t do me any good. We’re half way between the main house and the private residence now. It was the secret, off-limits wing for a while, but they renovated it recently.
At least getting in here wasn’t difficult this time.
The Sarkissians like to play at being civic leaders, which means using their ample space for charitable functions.
This evening’s event is for the children’s hospital and it’s being put on by a local minor league baseball team.
The grounds are overrun by children, and those little bastards are fantastic at stirring up trouble and causing a general commotion.
All we had to do was wait for one of them to knock over a fancy ice sculpture and there was our distraction. Annie’s singing not necessary.
“If you start panicking right now, someone might wonder why there are very large rats speaking English in the walls.”
I take a couple deep breaths to steady myself since he has a point. “If we get caught and I get tortured, I’m telling them everything about you. And I’m going to make up some really nasty rumors.”
“I’ll deserve it.”
“What’s the plan? I mean, for real?”
He shifts in the gloom. “Arsen keeps his important things in his personal area. I’m positive about that because I’ve already searched through most of the hidden spaces in the other sections.”
“That’s what you were doing in the piano?”
“Exactly. That safe only has cash and guns. Nothing fun.”
I’m tempted to go back. We’re breaking into my cousin’s inner sanctum on nothing more than a hunch, but I can see how his logic is leading him here. If he already exhausted the other options, surely this has to be all that’s left.
Reluctantly I start moving again. Arguing won’t do anything for me now and we’ve come too far to turn around. Only if I’m honest with myself, I’m not pissed because he’s making some educated guesses.
I’m pissed that he might be right, and I still don’t know what that’ll mean for me.
We come around a bend in the walls and slow. Ahead, light bleeds through several cracks in the plaster. I drop my pace down to a crawl, listening intently as a voice filters through from a room we’re about to pass.
I stop, peering out, and stifle a gasp.
It’s a child’s room, mostly blue. I catch glimpses of sports posters on the walls. A woman sitting in a bed is singing to a young boy. Brenden moves closer and looks over my shoulder at the pair.
It’s Lena Sarkissian, Arsen’s wife, and the little boy is their child, Roman.
The song is in Russian. I know bits and pieces, coming back to me in snatches of memory.
My mother used to sing it too, back during her rare lucid evenings.
Lena’s pretty with auburn hair and a nose ring.
She’s in her dress clothes still and is obviously putting Roman to bed before she goes back to rejoin the party.
“Come on, we have to move,” Brenden whispers.
I don’t want to. The path leads behind the bed and if we’re not totally silent, Lena really will hear us.
I’m tempted to make him wait, but we’re running on a clock here.
Someone will notice we’re gone and start asking questions sooner or later, and if they realize we’re not at the party but our car is still out front—
I creep onwards, heart racing into my throat, as Lena continues her song.
Brenden stays close. He makes no sound and I feel like an oaf.
The closer we get to Lena, the more I want to scream, until her voice is like she’s right here in the passageway with us.
Fear clogs my throat, makes me want to gag, and the only thing that keeps me from losing my mind is Brenden’s touch in the darkness.
“I love you, little Romey,” Lena says, making kissing noises.
The little boy laughs. “You too, Mama.”
“Are you going to sleep good tonight, little love?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“That’s a good boy. You stay safe in here, right?”
“Mama?” Roman’s voice is tiny and adorable. He’s a nice kid. I’ve met him a few times. I bet he would’ve been fun to play with back when I was younger. “Are the mice back?”
Brenden’s hand grips my arm so hard it hurts. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming.
“Why do you ask that, love?” Lena sounds like she’s no longer in bed, maybe a few feet away.
“I heard them.”
“Are you sure, darling? When was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was it tonight? Last night?”
“Mama, are they gone?”
Brenden’s lips press to my ear. “Don’t move.”
I’m barely breathing. My heart’s a missile straight to my brain. It takes a lot of self-control not to start screaming.
“Don’t worry, little love, they’re all gone. Daddy had them taken care of, remember?”
“Okay, Mama.”
“Goodnight, darling.” More kissing noises then a door opens and closes.
We still don’t move. A ten count. Another ten count. Then Brenden nudges me and we start moving again.
I have no idea if Roman’s asleep or awake, but he doesn’t make any noise. We inch past his room and I don’t take a reasonable breath until I’m sure we’re away.
“Here.” Brenden’s whispering, but it sounds like explosions after the pure silence of the last two minutes.
“I think we’re at a closet.” His fingers find cracks down toward the bottom of the path and he works a panel free.
It’s not a big opening, barely enough to fit his shoulders, but he wriggles his way through.
I wait for him to give me the all clear before following. He’s right, we’re in the biggest walk-in closet I’ve ever seen. I emerge from between several pairs of adorable heels, clearly Lena’s stuff, and start rapidly brushing the cobwebs and the filth off my dress.
“That was too close.” I hiss the whisper at him, feeling sick. “Do you think he actually heard us?”
“I have no idea, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to check and make sure we’re alone. You stay here, alright?”
“Don’t leave me.” I grab his wrist, feeling that pulse of fear and panic again. He leans down and kisses me softly.
“We’re good. You’re good. Wait. I’ll be back.”
He slips from my grasp, listens at the door, peeks through the gap, and disappears.
Being a thief isn’t fun anymore.
I knew the risks and the stakes on an abstract level, but now that we’re here? Now that we nearly got caught in the act? I’m losing my nerve and starting to spiral. What the hell is worth this nightmare?
I close my eyes and picture a beach.
There’s nobody else around. I spread out my things and watch the waves. Nobody’s looking at me. Nobody’s expecting me anywhere. I can stay as long as I want, and it won’t matter if I don’t show up back home for hours. I’m free in a way I’ve never been free before.
And beside me is Brenden, smiling, whispering I love you—
My eyes snap open. He’s looking at me through the open closet door.
“Hey. You good? It’s all clear. Lena’s back at the party.”
The relief’s almost painful as I follow him into the bedroom. I pause to get my bearings, feeling like I’m betraying something awful.
“All these years,” I say to myself, looking around in pure astonishment.
“What’s that?”
“My cousins never talk much about themselves. I always had some vague ideas about their private lives, you know what I mean? But this—“ I pick up a ceramic cat statue. “This is so ordinary.”
My nose wrinkles as I put it back down. The room is simple: big, neatly made bed, clean nightstands, a pair of women’s slippers, a nightgown hanging on the back of the door, a large mirror against one wall.
Everything is tidy, almost obsessively, which isn’t a surprise.
I never pictured Arsen as the type to have a messy room.
“What did you expect?” Brenden asks, pulling open a drawer. I almost tell him to stop but this is what we’re here for. Instead, I join in and start going through their things.
“I don’t know. Whips? Chains?”
“A dead body hanging from the corner?”
“More blood at least.”
“Turns out, even psychopaths like to have a pretty normal bedroom.” He grunts to himself as he checks underneath the mattress.