Death by Denim

by Linda Gerber

He led us across the walkway to one of the office doors and rapped sharply. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and ushered us inside.

  To my surprise, a gentleman sat in the corner of the room, playing a cello. I felt like I had stumbled into a dream. The man didn’t look up, but continued playing his piece, eyes closed, swaying with the swing of his bow. The fingers of his other hand danced over the frets, pausing here and there, wavering to create vibrato. It was a beautiful performance. So why did it make me feel so uneasy? I glanced at Seth to see if he shared my apprehension and what I saw sent a slice of fear through my chest.

  Seth’s face had gone completely white. Even his lips had drained of color. He stared, wide-eyed, at the man with the cello, like he knew him. Like he was terrified of him.

  Finally, the music ended, the last melancholy note hanging in the air before fading away. Only then did the man look up and smile. I was wrong about Black Eyes having the creepiest smile I’d ever seen. This guy upped the creepiness factor about a thousand percent. “Hello, Aphra,” he oozed. His accent held a distinct Eastern European flavor. “So nice to finally meet you.”

  “I … I’m afraid I don’t …” I looked to Seth again.

  “Oh, yes. How rude. Mikhael, you haven’t introduced me to your little friend.”

  At first I thought he was talking to Black Eyes, calling him Mikhael, but then I remembered—Mikhael had been Seth’s given name before his family had been forced into hiding. He told me once that he had been Seth so long that he preferred his new name to the old one. But if this man knew the old one … Suddenly, I felt like I needed to puke.

  The cellist tsked. “I’m sorry, my dear. It appears Mikhael has forgotten his manners. I am Dominik Lucien Brezeanu, but you may have heard me called by my simpler name: The Mole.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The Mole smiled his wicked smile and watched me like he was hoping for a reaction. I tried not to give him one, though I’m sure he could see the fear written on my face. I just stared at him, thinking that this distinguished-looking gentleman with his close-cropped silver hair and pale blue eyes was not at all what I had imagined when I pictured what The Mole might look like. I had imagined him as some kind of mob boss figure, wearing gold chains and smoking oversize cigars. But I guess evil is more effective if it comes wrapped in an attractive cover.

  “It is a pleasant surprise to find you here,” he said. “After this morning, I had quite given up meeting you. When my … associates dropped in to pay a visit to young Mikhael’s family, they were rather dismayed to find that they had already left the premises. Warned off by the Agency, were you?”

  He directed his question to Seth, but Seth stared straight ahead as if no one had spoken. That made The Mole chuckle. “He’s a stubborn one,” he said to me, “but we’ll soon break him of that.”

  The thought of how The Mole or his minions might try to break Seth made my knees wobble. I could have crumpled to the floor right then, only I was pretty sure that would have been just what The Mole wanted. I took a cue from Seth and focused my eyes on a crack in the plaster behind The Mole’s head.

  The Mole chuckled. “So much like your mother,” he said. “Pity, that.”

  I couldn’t help it. My gaze snapped right back to where he was sitting.

  “I didn’t realize you had accepted my invitation,” he continued, methodically loosening the strings on his cello before laying it in its case. “I’m afraid I already released the horseman.”

  The room spun. The horseman … the fourth horseman … death. “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “The message was quite clear,” he said. “Either she would deliver you children to me, or she would die.”

  My stomach heaved. The words of the macabre message danced mockingly in my head. Deliver the children lest he should ride. I assumed—I think we all assumed—the note was a threat against the Mulos. It never occurred to me that if he didn’t get his way, the monster would go after my mom.

  “But, I’m here,” I said weakly.

  “Ah, yes.” He closed the cello case and fastened the latches. “But not by the specified hour. And if my sources are correct, had it been up to your mother, you would not be here at all.”

  I stared at him. How could he possibly know that? Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just knew that any mother with half a brain wouldn’t say, “Oh, you want me to give up my kid? Sure. Here you go.”

  “She will learn,” the Mole continued. “You will all learn—you myopic capitalists with your unmitigated arrogance. You will be brought to your knees soon enough.”

  “What does that have to do with my mom?”

  “It has to do with your mother,” he drawled, “because she works for the most corrupt government in the world. She has pledged her allegiance to an administration of money-grubbing plutocrats who have commodified the entire culture. She supports a monopoly of global wealth and power. She forgets what your government has done to our country. How their sanctions starved our children, how—”

  “Give me a break,” I muttered. “She got in your way, that’s all.”

  Seth gave me a warning nudge. “Aphra …” he said under his breath.

  “Ah, yes. You see? He is learning. He knows that it was his family who set us on the path that has led us here today. His parents who betrayed their fellow comrades in favor of baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and an SUV. But they sowed the seeds of their own destruction, boy. My years in federal prison were the best education America had to offer.”

  The Mole plucked a scarlet cashmere scarf from the side of his stool and draped it around his neck. “It’s true, I would not have chosen my own incarceration, but those years proved to be most valuable. I learned to navigate the underground, to connect with the power of international organized crime. Prison could not subdue me; it only extended my reach. Now I have comrades all over the world. Signore Labruzzo here is part of that extended family.”

  Black Eyes—Labruzzo—inclined his head.

  “I have your parents to thank for the wealth of connections, Mikhael. I discovered an entire world of criminals in federal prison, all looking for a little … direction.” He studied his impeccably manicured nails and added in a bored tone, “Despite whatever personal benefit I may have gained, however, your parents betrayed me, and traitors must be punished.”

  Seth’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.

  The Mole, unmoved, looked to me instead. “And your mother must pay for her involvement in their corruption. Had the American government not resorted to deceitful tactics to obtain their treasonous accusations, we would not find ourselves in this situation today.”

  I clamped my own jaw tight and breathed hard through my nose. I was not going to let him goad me into talking back, even though I’d like to tell him a thing or two. But it wouldn’t do any good. You can’t reason with insanity.

  “You must understand,” he continued, “I abhor violence, but there are times when a big stick is more effective than a soft word. Your parents killed twenty years of progress toward bringing down American dominance. They destroyed the cell I so painstakingly pulled together and nurtured over the years. So I find it a fitting addition to my statement that I destroy their creations.” He spread his hands as if to encompass Seth and me.

  “What statement could you possibly make?” Seth spat.

  The Mole cocked his head, his mouth twisting as if amused. “My colleagues have been scattered. Many have been captured. But the work will go forth. My statement”—he paused for effect—“is to show that I will not be hobbled.”

  I didn’t want to ask. I truly didn’t want to hear the answer, but I had to know. “What have you done with my mom?”

  “I have done nothing with her.” His lips split in an oily smile. “Yet.”

  He was lucky that my hands were still stuck behind my back or I would have clawed his eyes out. I gritted my teeth. “Where is she?”

  “Your mother is on her way to rescue her daughter.”<
br />
  “But she doesn’t know where I am.”

  He arched a brow over one pale eye. “Why, certainly she does. The Agency is not exclusive in the use of bait.”

  My mouth went dry. “I—I don’t understand.”

  “It’s quite simple. Since you would not go to her in Milan, she is coming to you.”

  Icy fear licked the back of my neck until my hairs stood on end. I knew I was playing his game, but I had to ask. “How did you know I was supposed to go to Milan?”

  His cold smile made my stomach turn. “I have my sources. Close, reliable sources.” He winked and I thought I’d lose it right there.

  What did he mean, “close sources”? Close to him or close to my mom? Who even knew? Ryan would never have given me up. And then my heart sank. Caraday. I remembered the way she whispered her instructions to me, how she said my mom was sleeping when I left… . That should have raised a huge red flag, had I stopped long enough to think about it. There’s no way Mom would have gone to sleep unless she knew that the Mulos were safe. So either she already had a plan in play or Caraday had been lying to me. Or both.

  “And my mom and dad?” Seth asked, though I’m sure he would rather not have heard the answer.

  “Yes,” The Mole said in his saccharine voice. “They have received an invitation as well.”

  He crossed his long legs and brushed imaginary lint from his trousers, signaling the end of his interest in our conversation. “Labruzzo, we must finalize the preparations. Kindly show our guests to their new accommodations.”

  Labruzzo bowed as if he were a manservant.

  “Oh, and Labruzzo, one more thing. Please explain what will happen when the Mulos and Signora Connolly arrive for their children, would you?”

  Labruzzo’s lips lifted. He fixed me with his black eyes. “Boom,” he said.

  My legs shook as we crossed back over the metal walkway. I had to breathe through my nose, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I’d scream. The workers down below, the wires, suddenly it made horrible sense to me; they were rigging the textile mill with explosives.

  I could barely climb down the stairs, but Labruzzo had no patience for my being slow and growled at me to hurry up. He marched us through the machine room and down a wide corridor lined with the same square bins I had seen earlier near the loading dock.

  In front of a battered wooden door, he stopped, jangling the keys on a large brass ring until he found the one to undo the lock.

  The door swung open to reveal a room that was only about ten feet square. Even more carts crowded the room, these overflowing with what looked to be cast-off fabric and scraps, all heaped in the corners and spilling out onto the floor. Bits of plastic and paper, old pins and thread spools littered the floor. The tall windows on the far side of the room were caked with grime and only let in a weak, yellowish light. In the small space, the strange smell was even stronger than in the open space of the factory.

  “In,” Labruzzo ordered.

  I drew back. If he was trying to kill us with chemical fumes, he might not be far off.

  Labruzzo grabbed my shoulder and gave me a vicious shove. I stumbled into the room, slipped on a piece of fabric and fell to the floor. Pain shot through my elbow and up my arm.

  “Aphra!” Seth rushed to where I lay amid the trash and dropped to his knees, but there wasn’t much he could do to help me.

  The door clicked shut behind us, followed by a metallic clunk. Probably Labruzzo setting the lock again. At least Seth and I were together. And, for the first time since I first saw him in Varese, we were alone. It should have been our “moment.” We should have been able to hold each other and comfort each other and tell each other that everything was going to be all right, even though it wasn’t. By keeping us cuffed, The Mole had even taken that away from us.

  Frustration and anger swelled inside with edges so sharp it brought tears to my eyes.

  “Hey,” Seth whispered. “What’s wrong?”

  I rolled onto my side so that I could at least look up at him. He leaned over me, his eyes—his beautiful blue eyes—so filled with tenderness and concern that I cried even more.

  “Are you hurt?”

  I could only shake my head.

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  “I want to hug you and I can’t,” I choked out.

  “Hold on a sec.” He let himself topple over so that he was lying on the ground facing me and then wriggled like a worm so that we were face-to-face. His voice went husky. “I want to hug you, too,” he said. That made me cry again, only happier this time.

  “Hey, shhh …” he said, and rubbed his cheek against mine. His warm skin felt sandpapery and soft at the same time. I closed my eyes and nuzzled against him like a cat, breathing in the smell of him—an earthy blend of lime and soap.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered.

  “You have no idea.” He pulled back so he could see my face. “I’ve been going crazy. No one would tell me where you were.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Where were you?”

  “Lyon and then Paris.”

  “Only a few hours away. No wonder they wouldn’t tell me. I would have found you.”

  “I would have found you.”

  “You did find me.”

  I smiled. “Oh, yeah.”

  We lay there looking at each other for several heartbeats, and then Seth leaned close and brushed his lips against mine. A wave of champagne bubbles burst open in my stomach, my head, my heart. I stretched my neck to reach him again, and he kissed me, deeper, longer. For those brief minutes, I forgot my pain and my fear. All I knew was that Seth was there with me. I nestled my cheek in the hollow between his shoulder and his neck.

  And then I opened my eyes.

  I had found Seth—and because of that, he was lying on the floor of an abandoned factory, manacled and marked for death. I swallowed hard against the ache in my throat. If what The Mole had said was true, my mom had set an alternate plan in play to get the Mulos to safety. If it hadn’t been for me, they might have gotten away.

  “Why did you come forward?” I moaned.

  Seth pulled back and looked at me incredulously. “What?”

  “When Labruzzo arrested me,” I said. “He was making a show of it, trying to flush you out.” Just like Caraday said we were going to do with the Mole. The irony only made it hurt worse. “Why didn’t you stay hidden?”

  Seth shifted so that he was angled toward me. “Aphra, look at me.”

  I raised my face to him again. His brows dipped low. “I would never let anything happen to you,” he said. “I stepped out of the crowd because it was not possible for me to stand by and watch you be hurt.”

  “But … you could have gotten away. You could have been free.”

  He shook his head. “No, Aphra,” he said softly, “I will never be free of you.”

  His cobalt eyes held mine and for that moment, everything else melted away until it was just Seth and me and that was all I needed. It didn’t matter what awaited us or how we were going to get out of it. For that little time I could believe that everything was going to be all right.

  I was wrong.

  CHAPTER 11

  I could have lain there with Seth for hours, but our aching shoulders and the urgency of the situation wouldn’t allow it. We needed to get out of the textile mill and warn our parents. With some difficulty, we pushed to our feet and stood together, trying to figure out a plan, trying to understand what had happened with each other to lead us to that spot.

  “What happened this morning?” I asked him. “Before I got there.”

  Seth glanced back at the door, and then leaned close to tell me. “We were eating breakfast when a telegram was delivered. It was kind of a shock, since no one was supposed to know where we were.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It was the message we dreaded getting for years, ‘Send the books.’”

  “I don’t understand what that me
ans.”

  “It’s code. We had to learn the code before we went into hiding. If we get a message that says to ‘pack the books,’ we’re supposed to make preparations to leave town. Pack a few things, maybe withdraw some money from the bank, but sit tight and watch and be on high alert. But if the message says to ‘send the books,’ that means to get out immediately.”

  “Oh.” So the Agency had come to warn the Mulos. I should have trusted that they would, but I had to be sure. “Where did you go?”

  “Nata—your mom had rented an apartment one building over. That was our safe place. She rented it with her own money so that no one would know about it. She figured that if we ran after someone discovered where we were hiding, they would never think to look so close.”

  That sounded like my mom. Be prepared. Trust no one. “If they didn’t know about the apartment, where did the Agency think you were going to go when you got the ‘books’ message?”

  He shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about that. All I know is that when we got the message, we had to clear out and go to the safe place and wait for instructions.”

  “So … once you got there, you were supposed to stay in the safe apartment, right? What made you come outside?”

  Seth lifted one shoulder. “We could see the street from the window. That was something else your mom insisted on. So …” He let his gaze drop. “The police car caught my attention. I mean, he’d left his lights flashing so I figured something was up. I watched and when I saw him bringing you out of the building …” He looked up at me, face sincere and open. “I snapped. I ran out of the apartment and my mom ran after me. She tried to make me stop. And my dad followed her.” His shoulders sagged. “They’ve probably been going crazy, trying to figure out where the police car would have taken us. I wonder how The Mole gave them the message where to find us?”

  “He probably didn’t have to. My mom would have gone to them immediately. They’re probably all together.” Which meant Caraday was probably with them and they didn’t know she was in league with The Mole. A fresh surge of panic gripped me and I pulled my wrists against the handcuffs. “We’ve got to get these things off.”