Holding Smoke

by Steph Post

  Felton opened his eyes to see only a vast brume of crimson extending in every direction. The red had swallowed him. Air was moving past him, whisking against his forehead, his cheeks, air stippled and sanguine. Felton inhaled, felt the red in his lungs, flowing through a strange, hollow body, light and volant, and opened his eyes again. Far below was an empty field, rocky and barren. It stretched over the curve of the earth and then he opened his eyes once more to see a jagged tree piercing the horizon. Once more, and he could see the dead tree beneath him, a crooked branch gripped in his talons. In a fade of amber, the tree began to disintegrate, the chips of ash spiraling upward on unseen currents, through and beyond him. Felton breathed in the ash and breathed in the amber and closed his eyes and closed them and closed them again at last. And then came the crash.

  “Hey, sorry to just barge in, Felton, but I’ve been banging on the door and calling you for like five minutes now and—holy shit!”

  Felton saw the open camper door and then Juniper’s face, hanging over him, framed in a square of blinding light. He smiled up at her, but something was wrong, her eyes were too large, panicked, and her lips had stopped moving. Her hair was hanging down loose over her shoulders and Felton lifted his arm, reaching out to touch one of the fluttering strands. Then he felt the pain.

  “Felton, oh my God. Okay, don’t move, just, don’t, stop that. Don’t move your arm. Oh man, hold on.”

  Juniper was banging around the camper and the commotion gradually brought Felton back. He realized he was slumped back against the wall, but when he braced himself to sit up, his arm gave way beneath him. It was singing with fire and Felton looked down to see the gash and the blood smeared all the way up to his armpit and dripping from the tips of his fingers. A milk crate from one of the slanting shelves fell to the floor and then Juniper was kneeling in front of him with a ripped, bleach-stained towel in her hands. She wrapped the rag around his arm and clamped down tightly with both hands.

  “We need to get you to a hospital. I think you’re going to need stiches. Or something. Oh Jesus, Felton, what did you do? And where did you go?”

  It suddenly occurred to Felton that Juniper was crying. She was speaking in short, raspy bursts and her hair kept getting caught in the wetness on her face as she hovered in front of him, trying to adjust her grip on his arm. He couldn’t understand why she was crying.

  “Here, hold this. Just, Felton, listen to me. Hold this, tight.”

  Juniper picked up his left hand and pressed it against the towel. Felton did as she told him and then she was scrambling around the camper again, sliding on the plywood floor and careening out the door. Felton looked down dumbly at the blood-soaked towel and pressed harder. His arm was throbbing, but the hornets’ nest at the base of his skull was quieting down. By the time Juniper bounded back, with one of the tie-dyed tapestries from the van trailing behind her like a kite, the divination had split his mind like a maul driving a wedge. He helped Juniper peel off the sticky towel and wind the tapestry tight around his arm in a tourniquet. After she tied the ends together, she collapsed against the broken shelves and caught her breath. Felton patted his wrapped arm and nodded to her.

  “Thank you.”

  She leaned her head back.

  “What happened to you?”

  Felton looked at his arm.

  “I cut myself. I was reaching through the glass there and cut myself on the broken edge. I’ve never had stiches before. Do you think I really need them?”

  Juniper brushed her hair away from her face with both hands. She was panting, pale but for the ruddy flush high on her cheeks.

  “No, I mean, what happened? When I busted through the door, you were just sitting there, like in a trance or something. I mean, totally spaced out, and your arm, all the blood, and you didn’t even notice. And your face.”

  Juniper looked away. Felton couldn’t tell if she was disgusted by him or afraid.

  “Felton, you were just gone. Just gone. Your eyes were open, but it was like you weren’t even there.”

  Felton nodded. He didn’t want Juniper to be disgusted or afraid. He wanted her to be happy. Like the people in the congregation. Like he’d made them when he had returned. Like he knew he could make them again. He looked at Juniper. Tears were almost in her eyes once more as they roved across his face, searching, and in one resonate clap, the static between his ears shattered. Everything around him jolted sharply and suddenly came into focus. The revelation was clear.

  “I wasn’t.”

  Juniper’s eyes went wider still, but Felton knew he could calm her. Could make her happy. Just as he had those in the church. He reached out with his left hand and rested it on her bare ankle, grimy with dirt and detritus.

  “But I’m here now. And I know what I must do.”

  *

  Judah stood at the scalloped edge of the mosaic-bottomed pool and followed the lazy figure eight of a rainbowed koi fish swimming around two spouting fountains.

  “You know, most folks seem pretty content just to show off a fish tank.”

  Judah craned his neck to peer upward through the faceted panes of glass, rising in a peak above the shallow pool and sloping down to meet the wall-to-wall glass doors encircling half the room and opening out onto a lawn so green it hurt his eyes to stare. Dinah, stomping her boots unnecessarily across the white terrazzo floor, came up to stand beside him.

  “Oh, there’s one of those, too.”

  Dinah waved her hand vaguely off to the right. So far, Judah had only come through the cavernous foyer, the equally chasmal living room, and then into this room, a step down, which Dinah had called the solarium, whatever the hell that was. He had scoped out the size of the house when they’d driven up, though, and he was sure that the rest of it had to be monstrous, a warren one could get lost in for days. There was no other way to describe Katerina’s house than to say it was a mansion, and, in Judah’s mind, one mansion was as unfathomable and inaccessible as the next. Until he’d set eyes on the indoor fish pond, complete with a cascading waterfall at the far end and perfectly symmetrical lily pads bobbing in the crystal clear water, the house was exactly what he’d expected. Slick, hard surfaces; too much granite and glass and light. Portraits of horses draped with roses and ribbons. Random, oddly shaped tables displaying a single vase or formless blob of sculpture. Plush rugs, sleek leather couches that looked as though they’d never been sat on, everything without a smudge of dirt or a glaze of dust, everything white. He’d never realized there were so many shades of white.

  Judah rocked back on his heels in front of the shimmering pool. Beside him, Dinah was combing her fingers through the leaves of a ficus tree, growing up out of some sort of urn. Her limp brown hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail and she wore a tight-fitting black T-shirt tucked into her jeans. Dinah shaded her eyes and squinted up into the flood of sunlight.

  “Hundred and fifty gallons. It’s in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs, the fish tank. There’s this little green fish it, no bigger than half your finger, that’s supposed to be worth more than one of those Beamers parked out front. Or so Katerina says.”

  Judah scowled. He didn’t care about fish. He cared about hearing the details of Katerina’s plan and getting a move on. He’d rather not spend any more time staring at water and paintings and statues than he had to.

  “Katerina. What does she even want with me? Couldn’t she just let you handle things? Isn’t that your role in all this?”

  Dinah dropped her hand to her side.

  “She said she wanted to look over what she’d hired.”

  “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  He couldn’t read the noncommittal look on Dinah’s face. Judah drummed his fingers on the side of his jeans in irritation.

  “And where is she anyway? Or are we just supposed to stand around all day, admiring the view?”

  Dinah’s mouth twisted like she’d bitten into a lemon. At least he’d go
tten to her finally.

  “You got somewhere else you need to be right now?”

  Judah turned away, thinking of Ramey. She’d told him that morning, mouth pinched, dove-gray scythes nesting beneath her eyes, to count on her for the heist. The longer he spent away from her, though, the more time she would have to think things through and change her mind. He meant what he’d said the night before, but truly, he needed Ramey to get through the heist. Just being in Katerina’s house was making him nervous about the whole scheme. Judah ran bets and broke down cars and sold untaxed cigarettes. Moved money and merchandise and muscle around. The only two times he’d been involved in an actual robbery—first of a pharmacy and then of the Scorpions—things hadn’t ended so well. Prison time for one, a shootout, dead father and a church on fire for the other. He had managed to successfully steal the Scorpions’ money back from Sherwood, but that was only because of Ramey and her cool, level head. Judah smiled to himself. Ramey was his good luck charm. If she was in on the plan tonight, then nothing could go wrong. Judah knew that was absurd, but then, considering his current surroundings, absurdity seemed to be the nature of the game. At the sharp click of heels behind him, Judah shook himself and put Ramey out of his mind.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  Judah whirled around to meet a tall woman in five-inch, patent leather heels and a gray, sharply tailored power suit. Her ice-blond hair was so pale it almost blended into the house’s color scheme of white on white on white. It bobbed in loose, swept-back curls, framing her sharp, angular cheekbones, as she sauntered down the spiral staircase. Her arm, jangling with gold charm bracelets, was already extended to him by the time she reached the floor. Judah shot Dinah an uncertain glance, but she was busy with her head down, apparently engrossed in the scratches webbed across her boots. Giving up on her, Judah quickly crossed the living room to meet Katerina on his own. Her hand was smooth and cold, almost clammy, but her Cupid’s-bow smile seemed to be in earnest. She took a long time letting him go and Judah had the unsettling feeling that he was somehow being assessed and appraised by this woman who was at least ten years his junior. Her voice was surprisingly deep, a low purr, letting it be known that she was in charge.

  “Judah Cannon. We’re all set for tonight, yes?”

  She flicked something invisible off his shoulder and Judah stepped back, almost tripping over the brick hearth of a massive fireplace jutting out into the room. He searched around for Dinah, but she was still of no help, now with her back to them, absorbed in a painting of a fruit bowl. Judah turned to Katerina, her sooty eyelashes blinking expectantly behind tortoiseshell glasses. He was pretty sure they didn’t have lenses.

  “Should we be talking about this here? I mean, out in the open like this?”

  He glanced around warily. The house was so big, Judah didn’t know who might be listening. Or from behind which of the hundred closed doors. Katerina just laughed, a frosted, tinkling sound, and touched his arm. She was standing too close and Judah could smell the heavy musk of her perfume.

  “It’s fine. Alejandro’s cleaning the pool and I sent Juanita out to shop for dinner. Daddy’s flying in tonight, but he won’t be home for hours. We’re all alone, just the three of us.”

  Katerina brushed off his other shoulder with a patronizing smile and briskly clicked across the room to Dinah, who had finally bothered to turn around. Judah trailed behind as the two women embraced. As with the handshake, Katerina seemed to hold on to Dinah just a little too long. Dinah, though, he noticed, had the stronger grip.

  “Kat.”

  They separated, though Katerina still had Dinah by the wrists. She swung them lightly, like a child wanting to play.

  “Dee.”

  Judah coughed and Katerina squinted over her shoulder at him. She let go of Dinah.

  “All right, follow me. I’ll take you into the downstairs study, if it makes you more comfortable, and explain to you how we’re going to steal that bastard’s horse. If Trent thinks he’s off the hook with me, he’s got another thing coming.”

  Katerina, her face a glowering mask, stalked away, suddenly all business. Judah raised his eyebrows at Dinah, wanting to ask what the hell was up with this woman, but then, Dinah was acting just as squirrely. She held her hand out for Judah to go first and Judah just shook his head in frustration. They followed Katerina down a long, yawning hallway lined with more portraits of people who looked bored and dead, and into a round room paneled with dark, glossy wood and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Judah immediately felt more comfortable. An oval table occupied most of the space, but Katerina didn’t invite Judah or Dinah to sit down in one of the onyx leather chairs. She ignored them and instead walked over to an architect’s desk set up in front of the room’s single, spotless picture window. Katerina ripped a sheaf of drafting paper from a spool bolted to the wall and brought it over to the table with a flourish. She spread it out, retrieved a pencil from the desk, and began furiously sketching rectangles and squares. Dinah came around to stand at Katerina’s side, but Judah watched from across the table. The shapes quickly turned into buildings and it soon became clear that Katerina was drawing out a detailed map. Judah cocked his head as he followed her pencil strokes.

  “Hey, that’s pretty good.”

  Katerina cut her eyes up at him, but didn’t stop drawing. Her sudden scorn for him was evident enough in the way she slashed at the paper. Dinah threw him a scowl and Judah backed away, raising his hands in defense. He was done trying to nail down Katerina; she was too much for him. Judah watched in silence as Katerina dropped her death-stare and began neatly labeling each building, gate, and drive. Judah thought it was a bit excessive, but kept his mouth shut. Finally, Katerina stood up straight and cocked her head to admire her work. She tapped the end of the pencil against her pouted lips and then colored in a dark X before flinging it aside. Katerina put her hands on her hips and looked Judah up and down with a challenge.

  “You ready?”

  A stream of sarcastic comments ran through his mind, but he held his tongue. Obviously, Katerina liked to be the boss, and if catering to her meant they could get out of there faster, Judah was all for it. He leaned forward with Dinah over the table as Katerina traced one finger around the furled edge of the paper.

  “All right. This is Brandywine Farms.”

  She jabbed a French manicured nail at one of the larger buildings.

  “This is the house, where the party will be held.”

  She zig-zagged her finger across the paper.

  “The main drive, the gatehouse, the guesthouse where Trent lives. These are just horse trails over here. Appleton Lane, their private road, runs all along the fenced perimeter and turns out to the highway about a mile east of the estate.”

  Katerina swept her hand back toward the center of the drawing.

  “All in here you’ve got the stables, turnouts, the old carriage house. There’s a show arena over here, this is the pond, and then it’s all just fields and paddocks.”

  She waved her hand toward the blank space at the bottom of the paper.

  “There’s only one field and one stable you need to worry about, though, and I’ll get to that in a minute. Back to the gatehouse. You’ll drive up through here…”

  Her voice trailed off and she narrowed her eyes at Judah.

  “Just what do you drive?”

  Judah ground his teeth and started to answer, but she cut him off before he could get a word in.

  “Never mind, let’s not even worry about it. I’ll hire you an Uber. So, you’ll go through the gatehouse here. Just show Frederick your invitations and he’ll wave you through.”

  “So, we’re not breaking in or anything.”

  Katerina glanced with concern over at Dinah, who only shrugged, as if she too could not believe Judah’s ignorance.

  “No. You’re not breaking in. Or anything.”

  Katerina huffed and slipped her hand into the side pocket of her
fitted jacket.

  “I have invitations for you. Trent’s family has been planning this party for months. The guest list is a mile long, though my name got scratched through, big surprise. It’s Robert, Trent’s father’s, fiftieth birthday, but his wife Sophia handled all the invitations. Half the invites are Robert’s business friends, so Sophia wouldn’t recognize them anyway.”

  Katerina pulled out two small white envelopes, embossed with gold.

  “And I just so happened to help Sophia with ordering the invitations before I dumped Trent’s ass, so I know what they look like. I had these made up special, just for you.”

  She shot Judah a smug grin before passing them over.

  “You and…”

  She turned to Dinah in question.

  “Ramey.”

  Katerina frowned, as if bewildered by the name. Judah could have strangled her.

  “Ramey. Can she pull it off? Look the part? Judah here can pass as the rough and tumble scoundrel type as long as he keeps his mouth shut, but he’s going to need some candy on his arm to make it believable.”

  Dinah nodded.

  “She’ll be fine.”

  Katerina turned back to Judah, though one sharp eyebrow was still arched in skepticism.

  “All right, you and Ramey are attending the party as David and Elizabeth Cullen. They’re in Aspen, have been for months. No one ever paid them any attention, anyway. They always seem to just blend in with the furniture. I doubt anyone even remembers what they look like. You’ll just be names on a list, so don’t worry.”

  Judah stuffed the invitations into his back pocket.

  “I’m not worried. I’m also not an idiot.”

  Katerina glared at him before returning to the drawing.

  “Well, that’s good to know. The X here is the south stable. Then Calypso’s paddock and the back field beyond it. Yes, this is drawn to scale, yes, it’s going to be a hike. And here are the two gates you’ll have to deal with.”