by Gina LaManna
Once in the hallway, I could see that the apartment was two stories, even larger than the one Lizabeth had rented for us. It was old, broken down, and abandoned for obvious reasons—like the mouse scampering around the room.
“What are we watching?” I whispered. Through the railings on the bannister I had a slight view downstairs. On the kitchen table sat The Miranda.
“Wait,” Beckett warned. “You’ll see.”
I glanced at Alessandra, her eyes flaming, her fingers curled against the floor. Anticipation laced her smallest of movements.
A sound from the kitchen drew my attention. The Chad had returned.
“Here’s the rest of it,” he said, probably to the man thumping behind him into the room.
The toothless giant crossed his arms over his chest, the intimidation palpable from one floor up. “That’s it?”
The Chad’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. If I hadn’t been paying rapt attention, I would’ve missed the slight shake of his fingers as he clicked open the lock on his briefcase.
Alessandra sucked in a breath as the case fell open, exposing an expensive interior. Inside the case were all of the stolen pieces laid out like prized fish—except shinier, and less slippery.
“What a jerk,” I said. “That’s really rude to steal all of those from the designers.”
Beckett’s lips curled upward in amusement, his eyes gleaming as he shook his head. “A jerk.” The slight Italian accent he’d had before vanished completely, replaced by an impeccable American one.
“Where are you from?” I whispered. “Why are you changing accents?”
“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about, mate,” he said, mimicking the guy from Crocodile Dundee. Then he switched to something that sounded like a customer service rep from India as he continued. “I can be from wherever in the world you’d like me to be from.”
I blinked. Each one of his accents had been perfect. He was a chameleon. “Who are you?”
“Listen.” He ignored me, directing my attention toward the kitchen table. “And watch.”
Below, The Chad and the toothless giant discussed the items on the table, while my mind was stuck on all things Beckett and Alessandra. I looked between them, knowing we all had secrets. We all were hiding something. The only thing left to find out was whether those secrets were dangerous.
“That’s all of it,” the toothless giant said, counting everything for a third time. His smile was more of an ugly grimace. It caused me physical pain every time he opened his mouth. The tops of his teeth were rotting, tucked into gums that were more black than pink. “Thank you much.”
“When do I get to meet him?” The Chad’s hands clasped his briefcase, holding it back from the giant, but the attempt was futile. “The leader.”
Toothless giant yanked the briefcase from The Chad in less than one second. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“The Violet Society!”
“Never heard of them. It sounds like a fairy club.”
The Chad’s ears turned red. “You told me you knew them. Personally.”
“No, buddy, that’s not how it went.” The toothless giant guffawed. “You waltzed into my store offering to steal ten million in diamonds if I gave you a meeting with my boss.”
“Yes, so where’s your boss?” The Chad asked. “You promised me a meeting.”
“I’m my own boss, bozo,” the giant said. “What you see is what you get.”
The Chad’s jaw dropped. “You told me you were part of The Violet Society.”
“I never said that.” The toothless giant turned on his heel and marched toward the door. “I hadn’t even heard of it before you came into the store. I mean you asked me if you could join, and I said okay. It ain’t my business what you assume. Before I could ask what the hell you were talking about, you offered to steal ten million bucks for me. What sort of idiot would say no to that?”
“But—”
The giant frowned. “Who told you I was part of this fairy club, anyway?”
“The Violet Society!” The Chad said through gritted teeth. “Nobody ‘told’ me. That’s not how it works. It started as a rumor…I thought I’d found you. Someone whispered to me that you were in on the last Violet heist big time…”
“I see you’re realizing your problem,” the giant said. “Whoever was whispering in your ear had other intentions. They were setting you up and, frankly, I should thank them. I made out ahead on this one, but you…well, next time, pay closer attention to who’s feeding you rumors.”
“It’s…” The Chad was running out of steam. “They said they had proof!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the giant said. “But I’m done arguing. Thanks for the hard work, buddy.”
“Those are mine.” Realization was finally dawning on The Chad. He’d been duped, and now some random oaf was walking away with everyone’s share of the treasure. “No! That is mine!”
The toothless giant didn’t fight. Not really. He did, however, flatten The Chad with a single, super-hard punch to the forehead.
The Chad went down like a box of rocks.
“We should do something,” I whispered. “That looks like it hurt.”
“He stuck you with a needle twice, and you want to help him?” Alessandra raised her eyebrow. “You’re a good woman, Luzzi.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” Beckett said as he pulled himself to his feet. “Now, we start phase two.”
Chapter 43
Phase two began with a quick check of The Chad, who appeared to be breathing, alive, and relatively uninjured except for maybe his ego and the bump on his head. He groaned as Alessandra looped the same rope he’d used on us around his wrists.
“We have to go after the…” I almost said the toothless giant before realizing that might be considered offensive. “The big guy.”
“I’ve taken care of that,” Beckett said. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
I frowned. “But how?”
I didn’t have to wait long to find out. The loud crack of a backfire, a stream of curse words, and then a dull thunking as somebody pounded a vehicle signaled something I knew all too well: car trouble.
“Sliced his tires,” Beckett said. “Old school. He was asking for it though. I mean, he parked his getaway vehicle next to the front door.”
“Let’s get him!” I took off for the front door, but Beckett reached out and grasped the bottom of my dress, spinning me in a circle.
“Take your time,” he said. “He’s not going anywhere.”
Alessandra strode past us toward the door, accidentally stepping on The Chad’s wrist on her way out. “Oops,” she said. “Didn’t see you there.”
I followed her, and together, we found a van out front. Now I understood why Beckett had told me not to hurry. There was a person inside, and that person was the toothless giant, looking confused at his steering wheel.
“Is he locked in his own car?” I turned to Beckett. “How’d you manage that?”
Beckett raised his hands, giving me spirit fingers.
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Magic.”
Alessandra wasn’t having any of the lighthearted banter, however. Her face held unrivaled determination as she approached the van, her attitude silencing even Beckett. She pulled out some tool from her pocket and shattered the passenger’s window.
“You move, I shoot you,” she said, holding a hand over her pocket. I doubted she had a gun, but I knew she had pepper spray. “Tell me what you know about The Violet Society.”
“Nothing!” The guy looked annoyed. “I have never heard of this stupid thing before. That man, the Backstreet Boy over there, came rushing in my store a few weeks ago ranting about some society. About how he wanted an audition for my boss. I had no clue what he meant.”
“Why would he assume you were a member of The Society?” she asked. “What do you do?”
“I don’t know what he thou
ght, I sorta thought he was nuts. But then he says to me, Bill—if I bring you ten million dollars of jewelry, do you think you could give me a meeting with your boss?” Bill the Giant raised his hand as if this were the most normal thing in the world. “What was I supposed to say?”
“No!” Alessandra shouted. “You should have said no! Why would you think you could get away with this?”
Her fury surprised me, and it must have surprised the toothless giant, too. “I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone; I didn’t even know he was gonna steal it, really. He said he’d bring it to me like it was a gift or something. Lady, I run a pawn shop. I don’t ask many questions.”
“Allie,” Beckett said, taking a step forward. “Let me handle this.”
The toothless giant looked at Beckett. “How many of you are there?”
“Give me the briefcase or you’re dead,” Beckett said. His voice was low, hauntingly shallow. “Now.”
To my surprise, the toothless giant paused. His face scrunched up with consideration. Then he shook his head no.
Beckett’s jaw tightened. “I said now.”
Sirens screamed in the distance. Bill the Giant must have sensed the end approaching because he handed over the briefcase as the wailing grew closer.
“There are sniper guns trained on this vehicle,” Beckett said. “You step one foot out of this car and you’re risking your life. Sit tight, and the cops will go easy on you, understood?”
Bill looked torn between massive regret and terror. He nodded.
“Let’s go, ladies.” Beckett dragged Alessandra away from the car while I scurried close behind, a little bit in shock.
“Are there really snipers?” I whispered, craning my neck to look around. “Where are they?”
“Of course there are no snipers.” He didn’t stop moving. “Keep walking, Lacey. I’m carrying ten million in stolen jewelry.”
“Did either of you have a gun?” I asked, trying to keep my legs moving as fast as Beckett’s.
“I never carry a gun,” he said. “Though you seem really curious as to where I keep things. I could ask you the same thing.”
“You’re good at bluffing,” I told him. “I’m impressed.”
He grinned. “Magic.”
Alessandra was noticeably silent, keeping pace easily with Beckett despite her high heels and trendy clothes. My nightgown was light and airy, and I had flip-flops on my feet. I probably looked like an old granny who’d been yanked out of bed, but at least I had some airflow.
“What happens next?” I asked.
Beckett glanced toward Alessandra. Her eyes were focused, downcast. She was listening, I could tell.
“The police will find Bill, and they’ll arrest him for something, I hope.” Beckett reached out and squeezed Alessandra’s shoulder. “Chin up, buttercup. The night is young, and I have a feeling you’re just getting started.”
“Everything is ruined,” she said. “All this work, all this money and time, and it was a dead end. I was so close to The Violet Society, and now…” she sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll never have another chance to find the person who gave me this necklace.”
“Not so fast,” Beckett said, drawing a surprised glance from Alessandra. “The three of us have one more task before the sun rises. Follow me.”
Chapter 44
“Where are we?” I asked, twenty minutes later. We weren’t far from the abandoned building where we’d been held, despite taking a winding road to escape any unwanted tails. “I don’t recognize this place.”
“Don’t you trust me yet?” Beckett smiled, his handsome face brightening with a playfulness that seemed out of place next to Alessandra’s somberness. “Lacey, sweetheart, I’m running out of ideas to convince you I’m on your side.”
“Maybe just stop being all weird and psychic,” I said. “That would go a long way to help.”
He laughed. “I have another idea. Keep up.” He grabbed my hand with one of his, Alessandra’s with the other, and pulled us from a dark alley into a wider street. The D’uomo loomed above us, majestic under the moonlight. “And if you were wondering, The Chad will be fine. I left him in a nice, warm closet with a set of handcuffs for company.”
“What will happen to him?” I asked.
Beckett tsked, which I’m pretty sure meant he wasn’t going to answer me.
“You’re going to keep him alive, right?” I asked, scurrying close behind him. “That’s on the agenda?”
“Sure.” Beckett smiled at me. Then he saw my horrified gasp, and he rolled his eyes. “That was sarcasm. Of course he’ll stay alive.”
During our walk to the scene of the crime, Alessandra remained quiet. She seemed to shrink by the minute, though she was already petite. It seemed as if the realization that all of her work could be for naught was beating her down, slowly, surely, firmly. Her devastation was a tangible thing, an ache radiating from her person.
I didn’t have much to say in the way of comforting words. I knew how it felt to miss family, to search for family, to not know whether a parent was alive or dead. My heart hurt for her loss, and if I could make it easier for her, I would. I just didn’t know how.
On the other hand, Beckett walked with a distinct bounce in his step. He pulled us through back alleys, guiding us through Milan like a city kitty who’d traipsed these paths many times before. Then again, I didn’t blame him for being cheery—he had jewels in hand, and an idea that seemed bigger than everything else.
“Am I going to get the necklace back?” I asked finally, eyeing the briefcase hanging from his wrist, as he let go of our hands in favor of a little set of tools.
He raised his eyebrows. “Hold on, I’m busy.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” I said, clamping a hand over his wrist. “You are not breaking into the D’uomo. This is…art. Or architecture. Or something like that. It’s really old! You’re not allowed to break in. Plus, it’s a church. That’s sacrilegious.”
“You’re right,” he deadpanned. “I’m not breaking in here.”
“Really?” I asked.
He grinned. “Really.” Then he twisted the lock pick, and broke in anyway.
My jaw dropped. “You just said you weren’t going to do that.”
“I’m not breaking into the D’uomo,” he clarified. “I’m breaking into the staircase that’ll lead us to the top of the D’uomo. Let’s call it an after-hours tour.”
“No, that’s illegal.”
“Consider it a favor to you,” he said. “It’s a sight that needs to be seen, and it’s even better after dark. You can thank me later.”
Alessandra didn’t make a peep one way or another. Her sadness seeped through the air like Eeyore’s, dampening her normally sharp commentary. She followed him like a zombie, so in the name of helping the girl who’d saved my life, I followed Beckett, too.
I closed the door behind me, wondering how I had ended up breaking into a cultural masterpiece after visiting hours. Then I thought about what Carlos said—whether this path was the direction I wanted to take for my life. Since that was depressing, just like my resume, I focused on hiking the cold, dark staircase that spiraled upward for what seemed like miles.
“You never replied about the jewels,” I said. “Am I getting them back?”
“Sweetheart,” Beckett sounded exasperated. “You’ve gotta stop spoiling my surprises.”
“You’ve gotta stop calling me sweetheart. I have a fiancé!”
“It’s a term of endearment.”
I looked at him. “I’m not all that endearing. Don’t kid yourself.”
He laughed, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls. Then, we left the musty corridor behind for the crispness of the open sky. Littered with stars, the night glistened over this city, this town, this beautiful place.
I sucked in a breath, feeling as if I’d been transported to a distant land. A land where magic was real, castles existed, and princes waited around every corner. Statue upon statue lined the rim of the buildi
ng, reaching thin fingers toward the moon. The dull white of the stone, centuries old, representing the bones of time itself.
A strip of panels, much like a bench, split the center of the roof. I could lay down, and it would be perfect for stargazing at night. From up here, the entire city resembled a Hot Wheels track—the world at our fingertips, with little ribbons of black snaking between buildings.
A few blocks away, the glowing lights of the Fashion Week afterparty still pulsed. The music was dulled up here, the thumping only a distant heartbeat.
“For the record, I don’t particularly love breaking the rules,” I said. “But I think this time it was worth it.”
Beckett’s smile faded from charming to content. For some reason, this was comforting to me. And despite the rollercoaster that’d been our short relationship, I believed him. In the here and now, I believed that he was trying to help us, even if it didn’t make sense yet.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said softly, his accent still firmly American. “I hoped you’d come up here to see this. The city is beautiful during the day, but at night…at night, it’s something else.”
“It feels alive,” Alessandra whispered. She moved to a small outlook at the very edge of the rooftop. “These old buildings, it feels like they have stories to tell. Like they’re breathing, existing with us.”
As she looked over the city, I was struck once more by the pain in her eyes. Her hair blew behind her, long, brown, straight—tangling into messy curls at the hand of the breeze. Her all black outfit, stilettos included, made her almost vanish into the night. She pulled her jacket tighter.
I took a few steps closer as she shivered, teeth chattering. When I peeked at Beckett, he had the grace to vanish to the opposite end of the D’uomo, leaving Alessandra and I alone.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out like you’d hoped,” I said, testing the waters to see if she was ready to talk. “I know what it’s like to look for a family member. And what it’s like to find your family all too late in life.”