Chapter Forty-Three
Sin
Beware of the Thorns
“Someone’s New Year is off to a good start,” the lady delivering my flowers remarks.
“Yeah, it is.” I smile and sign for the massive bouquet of roses.
I take them into the kitchen and open the card.
I knew they would be from him but seeing his name on the card still makes everything flutter.
Kwame.
He’s so romantic and sweet. He brings flowers home randomly, makes my coffee perfectly every morning, and lets me be when I need it.
I couldn’t ask for more.
I’ve never been so well fed, rested, and doted on.
I find myself smiling at nothing a lot.
Just…smiling.
My heart skips a beat as I remember falling asleep with his arm for a pillow last night and how hard it’s getting to leave his house every night to go back to my place to get ready for work.
I open the card stuck to the arrangement. A picture falls out and flutters to the ground. It’s a four-digit code and a note. “It’s been nine months since the night we met. When you get here tonight, let yourself in with that code. Come ready to celebrate.”
I’ve never celebrated a milestone like this. It’s so sappy and sweet. I can’t believe it's’ happening to me.
I’m so in over my head. But… Flowers like this, and the way I catch him watching me tells me that he might be in over his head, too.
My phone rings and I see Leon’s name. I haven’t heard from him since that day at the museum. “Hello stranger, Happy New Year!”
“Hey Sin. Did you get my message on your website?” He sounds out of breath.
“No. I haven’t checked that mailbox since it got hacked. What’s up?”
“There’s been another robbery.”
“Where?”
“Here at the museum. Someone broke into our storeroom. We only realized when we came in to gather items for a new display. I don’t know how this happened.” His voice breaks.
My stomach dips. “How can I help?”
“I remember you took pictures when the lot was still in New York. I sent over a list of the missing items. Can you see if you have pictures that match the descriptions?”
“I’ll have to see. A lot of them were on my laptop when it was stolen. I had it backed up on a flash drive. It’s in a box I haven’t unpacked. I’ll check as soon as I can.”
“I hate to rush you, but can you do it tonight? I want to file the report myself. Even if I get fired, I can’t do nothing about these thefts.” He sounds distraught.
“What do the police say?” I ask without much hope.
His laugh is bitter. “They say there are no signs of a break-in. Referred us to the same task force that hasn’t done shit to help.”
“You should check your CCTV footage from the nights you have private events,” I suggest. Ozwald Annan was walking around the museum like he owned it the evening of the gala.
“Thanks, Sin. I have to go. I’m sorry. Send over whatever you have as soon as you can. Thank you.”
He hangs up. I stare at my screen helplessly.
More thefts, no one reporting on it, law enforcement is apathetic, the thieves are only going to be emboldened.
I need to look for that drive, but I have no idea where to start and an appointment with my lash lady I can’t be late for.
I’m running late when I get back. I still need to shower and change for whatever Kwame’s got planned for me tonight.
I fumble for my keys and lean against my front door only to have it give way. I stumble inside.
My place looks like it’s been torn apart. My blood runs cold.
I stumble back outside and it’s only then that I notice the picture taped to my front door. I grab it and run back to my car.
My heart feels like it’s trying to break free of my ribcage by the time I’m at my car.
I get in and lock the door before I pull out the picture again.
It’s me walking up the small path between my driveway and the rear entrance to my house.
I’m not sure when it was taken, but I bought the coat I’m wearing at a Black Friday sale.
Someone is watching me.
And they want me to know.
Panic makes me lightheaded. I’m flung back to a time when I was afraid of everything.
Terror builds inside me until I can barely breathe.
I can’t go through this again.
I lean over and fumble to open my glove compartment.
The second my hand brushes the moleskin journal, I’m one step closer to calm and my pulse slows, I breathe in deep and then push all the air out again.
Calmer, I open it and uncap the fountain pen I keep clipped inside. I write my feelings down until they’re not choking me anymore. I use my breath to slow my heart down and by the time I’ve released the fifth one, I can think clearly.
I haven’t worked on this story since Sofia made it clear it would cost me my job.
Why am I getting this now? The day Leon called me, hours after I said I had a flash drive in my house.
My heart trips. Does this mean someone is monitoring my calls?
I text Leon and tell him I don’t have the pictures and can’t help.
For good measure I add that while the robbery is unfortunate, I think he should focus on showcasing the pieces they have. I know he’ll be confused but I don’t dare put anything in writing. I’ll go by there this week.
Right now, I need my anchor. With trembling hands, I call Kwame.