Chương 4
“I cleaned your office,” Sophia said.
Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I know.”
“How?”
“I know the names of people who have access to the building.”
“Then why didn’t you know Marcus was using our company?”
A silence passed through the car.
Thomas glanced at the mirror.
Julian did not. “Using it how?”
Sophia closed her eyes again. “You really don’t know.”
“No.”
“He said you did.”
“What exactly did he say?”
She saw Marcus’s boots on the warehouse floor. Not the blows. The space between them. The pause he took each time he decided where the next one would land.
“He said every mop in Manhattan has your fingerprints on the handle.”
Thomas shifted in his seat.
Julian’s voice remained level. “What does that mean?”
“You tell me.”
“I’m asking you.”
“And I’m tired of answering men who already know.”
Julian turned his hand palm-up on his knee. Rain from his cuff had collected around the edges of his ring. “Then don’t answer now.”
She looked at him, suspicious of the permission.
He said nothing else.
The safe house was not a mansion. It was a large, plain home at the end of a wooded lane, built of dark brick with a basketball hoop over the garage and a ceramic frog beside the front steps. The frog wore a faded red bow tie.
That detail nearly broke Sophia.
She had expected iron gates, armed men, maybe marble. The ridiculous frog made the house look like somewhere a retired dentist lived. She began laughing, one breath at a time, each one painful enough to bring tears.
Thomas opened her door. “What’s wrong?”
Sophia pointed at the frog.
Thomas looked at it. “The owner refuses to remove it.”
“Who owns the house?”
“My sister.”
The laughter stopped.
“You brought us to your sister’s home?”
“She lives in Arizona. The house is scheduled for sale next spring.”
Julian stepped out behind Sophia. “Thomas believes the frog improves security.”
“It has survived three hurricanes,” Thomas said.
“There has not been a hurricane here in years.”
“It survived them elsewhere before my sister bought it.”
Sophia stared at both men. “Are you joking?”
Thomas appeared offended by the suggestion. Julian did not answer.
Elena burst through the front door before anyone could help Sophia from the car.
She wore black leggings, an oversized green sweatshirt, and one sock. Her hair had been gathered into a crooked knot that was already falling apart. For two steps she ran. Then she saw Sophia’s face and stopped.
The distance between them was no more than twelve feet.
Elena covered her mouth.
Sophia wished Julian had left his coat around her. She wished for the torn blouse instead of the hospital shirt because the blouse, at least, belonged to her. She wished she had said she was worse than she sounded on the phone. She wished she had never taught Elena to read her face so well.
“Hey,” Sophia said.
Elena’s eyes filled.
“Don’t,” Sophia warned.
That made Elena cry.
She crossed the remaining space carefully and wrapped both arms around Sophia’s waist. Pain flashed through Sophia’s ribs so bright that her knees weakened, but she held still. Her hands settled on her sister’s back.
Elena was alive. The bones beneath the sweatshirt were narrow and warm. Her shampoo smelled like apples.
“I’m sorry,” Sophia whispered.
Elena pulled away. “For what?”
“For tonight.”
“You didn’t do this.”
Sophia looked toward Julian.
He stood near the SUV while Thomas spoke to the woman who had driven them. The bodyguards had spread into the darkness, almost invisible between the trees.
Elena followed her gaze. “Is that him?”
“Yes.”
“He’s taller than I thought.”
“Why had you thought about his height?”
“People talk.”
“You shouldn’t listen to people.”
“You clean houses for rich criminals.”
“Offices.”
“That is your correction?”
Sophia touched her lip and winced. “Not tonight.”
A woman in scrubs came through the doorway. “I’m Naomi. Let’s get you inside before both of you freeze.”
The front room smelled faintly of lemon polish and old heat. Family photographs had been removed from the walls, leaving pale rectangles in the paint. A television played silently above the fireplace. Someone had made grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Elena had eaten half of one sandwich, then torn the other half into neat squares.
Sophia lowered herself onto the sofa with Naomi’s help. Julian remained standing near the doorway.
Elena moved between him and Sophia.
It was not a useful defensive position. Julian could have stepped around her without effort. Still, he waited.
“What do you want?” Elena asked.
“To speak with your sister.”
“You already did.”
“Elena,” Sophia said.
“No. He sent armed people into Aunt Rosa’s building. One of them scared Mrs. Valdez so badly she threw her groceries.”
Thomas entered behind Julian. “Mrs. Valdez threw a bag containing two oranges and a loaf of bread. Nothing was damaged.”
“That isn’t the point.”
“She also called one of my men a fascist,” Thomas said. “He found it educational.”
Elena looked at him. “You’re Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“You sound older on the phone.”
Thomas took off his wet overcoat. “I am exactly the same age on the phone.”
Julian glanced at him.
Thomas hung the coat on a hook and became silent.
Naomi checked Sophia’s pulse and blood pressure while Elena hovered. Julian waited until she finished.
“I need to know what happened in Red Hook,” he said.
Sophia leaned back. Medication made the ceiling drift at the edges.
“I need sleep.”
“You need to tell him,” Elena said.
Sophia turned her head slowly. “You don’t even know what he’s asking.”
“I know somebody beat you until they thought you’d talk.”
The room changed.
Julian’s gaze moved to Elena, then back to Sophia.
“How do you know that?” Sophia asked.
Elena pulled a phone from the pocket of her sweatshirt. It was not her phone. The case was clear and cracked across one corner.
“They sent me a video.”
May you like
Sophia tried to stand.
Naomi caught her shoulders. “No.”
