23 - Lane #2
Bear gave him a pointed look as he set it down. “You know, Sy, you should probably stop raiding Lane’s pantry. She’ll have nothing left at this rate.”
Silas suddenly looked a bit concerned and turned to look at me, but I waved it off. “It’s fine, I need to restock soon anyway. I don’t mind as long as you make sure you save something for Docket.”
Everyone paused what they were doing and stared at me.
“Docket?” asked Dax. “Who or what is that?”
“My cat,” I announced casually.
Dax rolled his eyes and Nance laughed in disbelief.
“You, with a cat?” she checked, whistling when I nodded in confirmation. “Now that’s one of the most unpredictable things you’ve done yet, Laney.”
Sy’s face softened and he gave my hand a quick squeeze. “I can’t believe you actually decided to take him in.”
“It’s more your fault than anything else,” I said, ignoring the warmth in my belly at the touch of his hand. “Plus, Docket sort of adopted me, not the other way around.”
Right on cue, there was a soft little meow at the back kitchen door and Silas bounced off with a grin to open the door for the little guy.
He strode in, already confident and entitled as though he just knew he belonged here.
I gave him a quick scratch between the ears before I turned my attention back to the murderboard.
Docket went to curl himself in Sy’s lap, purring like a motor engine.
I clapped my hands together. “Alright, we need to take a proper look at everything we’ve gathered so far.”
Nance tapped at a point on the board. “Here's the anomaly. Uncle Ricky’s estate paperwork shows zero escrow accounts for rental income, but the Cook County housing registry has a lease logged for this address spanning seven years while he was in Switzerland.”
I took a closer look, squinting at the attached document. “Can we take a look at the full thing on my laptop?”
Nance nodded and once we rigged it up, my jaw set. “ That’s not Uncle Ricky’s signature. It’s an authorized digital stamp. Sandy had power of attorney for localized HOA property maintenance.”
Dax walked over to the board, staring at something in particular.
He tapped a name we had connected via string to Sandy’s photo in the middle.
“I know that name. Tommy Vargas. He doesn't rent apartments in Logan Square, Lane. He manages off-the-books storage assets for the Outfit on the North Side.”
Sy and Bear looked at each other.
My blood turned to ice. “He executed a phantom lease."
“This house must have been standing empty for years. There was never a tenant.” Nance turned to me, her eyes filled with pity but her mouth was pulled in a straight line.
I tried to look at things with a bird’s eye view. Vargas as a point of contact for the unit meant it was highly likely that Sandy was using it as a hiding spot. I thought of the lockbox again. There was no way he didn’t know about it.
“The box in the bathroom…” I trailed off.
“Think it was his?” Dax asked.
“Maybe. But that wouldn’t make sense. Why would he keep it in this unit and not his own? If it was Uncle Ricky’s…” The alternative was worse. So much worse.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Nance said. “We figure things out one at a time.”
I nodded gratefully. Discovering that the house had stood as a holding unit for almost the entire duration of Uncle Ricky’s stay overseas had been the biggest discovery we made so far.
It also tied Sandy in further with the possible mob ties.
We still had nothing concrete yet, but it felt like we were getting closer to completely unspooling the thread.
The second half of the day was noticeably heavier than the first, and by the time Nance was getting ready to leave, I felt drained of energy.
She gave me a tight hug, promising that she’d keep an eye out for any further legal ructions.
Dax gave me a tight nod as he left, and Sy made me promise that if I needed anything, I’d call.
Bear was the last to leave, lingering in the doorway.
“I can stay the night if you want,” he offered. He said it casually, maybe even with a hint of flirtation. But he said it with the same underlying care I’d used when offering everyone blankets the night we’d played Euchre.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Really. Besides, it might be better not to risk Sandy seeing you here again. Given everything that’s happening.”
Bear understood where I was coming from, but the hug he gave me was tighter than normal. And I’d needed it.
After I saw him off, I closed and locked the door behind me, the house suddenly felt different.
I was hyper aware of the ambient noises; the rhythmic settling of the floorboards that mimicked the sound of footsteps and my hands suddenly felt icy cold.
I shoved them in my pockets and forced myself to walk normally.
I didn’t even realize where I was going until I ended up in the master bathroom, staring right at the covered concrete pit where the lockbox was still left unburied.
I opened it up, retrieved the box then replaced the cover carefully.
I moved to the laundry room below the stairs, tucking the lockbox behind the drywall access hatch for the water shut-off valve.
My hands shook, and blood pounded in my ears but even that little concession to paranoia made me feel just a bit safer. I wished that I’d taken Bear up on his offer. I wished I could’ve had all of them staying over tonight. But at least I wasn’t entirely alone.
Docket came bounding in, jumping onto my bed as I slid under the covers.
He meowed happily, then set a little spot up for himself right on my free pillow.
I shook my head with a small smile, grateful for the company.
But as I struggled to fall asleep with my thoughts still racing, not even Docket’s presence could rid me of the fear that I’d gotten in way over my head.