Dirty Money

by Ashley Bartlett

  All I had to do was open the car door. I would take off my sunglasses, toss them back into the car. I’d climb the stairs and count them like Ryan and I did when we were kids. As they sat down, they would hear the front door open. My mom would look at Adriana, a silent question in her eyes. Ade would shake her head. No, she hadn’t invited anyone. Then I would walk in. Dad would start to cry. So would Carson. Derek would be the first to move. No, Ade would. She would grab me and squeeze until I couldn’t breathe. Then she would say something funny. Maybe call me an asshole. My mom would forget to call Adriana on the language. And then my parents would gather me up and hold me and all the pain would just go away. Maybe.

  I started the car and drove away. It was Christmas Eve. Six months to the day since we had left.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I was afraid you weren’t going to show.” Esau didn’t look happy.

  “Sorry I’m late. I overslept.”

  “Your phone is off.”

  “My bad.” I pulled out the phone I’d intentionally forgotten to charge. “Shit, it’s dead.”

  “Don’t let it happen again.” Esau dug around in the center console and pulled out a phone charger.

  “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

  “The phone call I got three hours ago.”

  “What phone call?” I tried to be cool as I plugged in my cell phone and reclined against the spacious seat.

  “From Vito. Apparently, Alex has been tearing up Chicago looking for you.” He didn’t seem happy, but he wasn’t pissed either.

  “Maybe she should have called Vito three days ago when I ran away from her. Literally.”

  “You ran away from her? What are you? A thirteen-year-old who got mad at Mommy and Daddy?”

  “I used to think you were a psycho. A real sick fuck.” Esau wasn’t fazed by my seemingly random conversation change. Instead, he just smiled a little. “I was wrong. You at least have the decency to kill people. Alexis doesn’t. She just tortures them.”

  “How so?”

  “She wanted me to help her traffic women, girls.”

  “And that violates your little code?”

  “You’re damn right it does.”

  “So does killing people, but you still come whenever I call.”

  “It’s different. Those kids didn’t do anything wrong, unlike your victims. And, like I said, you torture people, but then you kill them. Her torture doesn’t have an end date. I mean, fuck Esau, she…” But I didn’t know what else to say. Because all I could see were those girls trying to sleep as if that was their only peace. And even their peace was filled with nightmares.

  “Hey, kid, don’t worry about it. I get what you’re saying. I’ll call Vito and take care of it.”

  “You think he can make her stop?” I knew it was naïve, but I could hope.

  “No. But I can make sure you don’t have to participate.”

  “I don’t think I can do this, man. After this, I’m out.” For real this time.

  “Let’s just get through this job. Then I’ll go to Chicago with you, talk to Vito. Okay?”

  “Sure.” It was a lie. I didn’t need Esau to fight my battles. But I was fine with letting him think he could.

  “Good. All right. I’ll be back at nine. He was gone for six hours of my shift and I couldn’t follow him. I’m worried he’s going to disappear. Once it’s dark, we’re going in.”

  “Cool. See you then.”

  *

  “Why are we hiding behind a ficus?” For all of Esau’s complaining, and he hadn’t shut up since we left the car, he was still doing everything I said. Right then, that meant crouching behind a tree trunk.

  “It’s not a ficus.”

  “My legs are going numb. And it’s about forty degrees out here.”

  He was right. It was cold. But I didn’t have time to worry about that.

  “I snuck into and out of this house a million times when I was a teenager. Don’t waste the expertise. Just follow my lead.”

  He started to protest again, but I silenced him. Through the binoculars Esau had provided, I could see into the kitchen. The alarm was blinking red, three times in rapid succession, once a minute.

  “The alarm’s off.”

  “So let’s go in.”

  “The security cameras are on.” The one positioned above the pool, two in the trees, and three posted at regular intervals on the house were moving slowly back and forth. Two by the doors and the one on the pool house were stationary. Christopher was a paranoid motherfucker.

  “Can you get us in without him knowing or not?”

  “Stay with me.” I grabbed Esau’s shirt collar, which didn’t make him happy, and dragged him behind me. We skirted the edge of the pool and ducked behind a potted palm.

  “This isn’t a video game. Stop fucking around,” he said.

  “Shut up. Stay here.” When the camera posted above the kitchen window turned north, I sprinted up and flattened myself against the house. The door to the kitchen was locked. No surprise. So I ran back to Esau. He looked at me weird when I started digging in the soil of the tree we were hidden behind.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Christopher used to lock us out if he knew we snuck out. So we hid a key. Used to totally piss him off.” I pulled out a Ziploc covered in soil. There was a key inside. “I’m awesome.”

  “You couldn’t think of a better hiding place?”

  “We were fifteen.” I brushed off the bag and pulled out the key. “Stay here.”

  I retraced my steps and stood under the camera. Hopefully, Christopher wouldn’t notice my hand reaching into the view of the camera and unlocking the door. I checked the position of the cameras, counted off fifteen seconds, then waved Esau closer.

  “There are two ways out of the kitchen. Take the door on the left. Go down the hall and take the stairs. Christopher’s bedroom will be the second, no, the third door on the left.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The front staircase. I’ll check his office. We can meet in the middle. Cool?”

  “Let’s do it.” Esau’s smile caught in the sparse moonlight.

  I nodded and opened the door. We entered together, then split. My Chucks echoed softly as I entered the foyer. On the stairs, they were quiet. I skipped the third stair, stepped to the left on the seventh. Christopher’s office door was open. I stepped through, pointed my gun, then stopped dead in my tracks.

  Ryan was sitting in one of the hard wooden chairs facing Christopher’s desk. Twenty years older, skin just a shade darker, his hair cropped and peppered with gray. Ryan, but not Ryan.

  My new Smith & Wesson, courtesy of Esau, slipped from my grasp, hit the floor, and a round fired off. I jumped a foot or so. Shitty street revolver.

  “Hello, Vivian.” Christopher turned from the window. “You should be careful with that thing. You could really hurt someone.”

  I shot a glance at the man seated by the desk. His hands were tied to the arms of the chair. A strip of duct tape was across his mouth. But his eyes were smiling. Just like Ryan’s.

  I picked up the gun and pointed it at Christopher. “Sit down.”

  His chiseled face contorted into a grin. “Big, bad gangster now? It looks sweet on you. And move your feet. What the hell kind of shooting stance is that? I taught you better than that.”

  Christopher was right. He’d been taking me to the shooting range since the twins and I hit thirteen. Not the most responsible move. I shifted my feet.

  “Good point. Now sit down.”

  “You’re not going to shoot me. Don’t point a weapon at someone unless you intend to kill them.”

  “I’m not going to kill you. But I’ll definitely shoot you.”

  “All right.” The grin got bigger. He put his hands up in mock surrender and sat on the couch.

  There was a very light footstep behind me.

  “Come on in, Esau,” I said.

  “Who did you shoo
t?” he asked.

  “No one.”

  “And who the hell are you?” Esau stepped up next to me and pointed his gun at the twins’ father.

  “I haven’t gotten that far. Will you tie up Christopher?”

  Esau put away his gun and clapped his hand on my shoulder with a small laugh. He hauled Christopher to his feet and zip tied his hands behind his back. Christopher just stood there grinning as Esau checked him for weapons and came up empty.

  “Take him down the hall. There’s a guest bedroom. Put him there for now.”

  The twins’ dad watched this exchange, but when I suggested they leave the room, he raised one eyebrow.

  “Hey, Esau.” I stopped him before they left the room. “Do we have to do Thai? The best place is thirty minutes away.” Christopher started laughing. Esau backhanded him.

  “Figure it out, kid. I’m hungry.”

  “There’s an awesome Mexican place. They do this burrito and the beans are like soaked in spices and shit. It’s awesome. Haven’t been there in half a year.”

  “Nothing like coming home, eh?”

  “Right.” I dug out my cell phone and unlocked it. Esau walked out the door. “Shit.”

  “What?” He stuck his head around the corner.

  “You got reception on your phone?”

  Esau glared. This was veering off his plan. He didn’t like that. “Here.” He tossed me the phone.

  “Thanks, man.”

  The second they were out of earshot, I crossed the room to the twins’ dad. When I pulled the duct tape off, he smiled for real.

  “Vivian Cooper. You have no idea how long I have wanted to meet you.” His voice was slightly accented, and half a register lower than Ryan’s.

  “You know who I am?” I pulled out my pocketknife and started cutting away the thin rope around his wrists and ankles.

  “Yes. Thank you.” He stood and rubbed his wrists. “We need to do something about your friend.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Stay here.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving.”

  I nodded and walked out. Esau and Christopher were two rooms away. When I walked in, Esau was hunched over Christopher securing him to a chair.

  “Will you hand me the duct tape?” Esau asked.

  “Sure.” I unzipped the bag, pretended to look in it, then crossed the room. Esau didn’t even look up. I turned my gun around and pistol-whipped him. He slumped into Christopher’s lap.

  “Good job, Vivian. Now untie me.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I pulled Esau onto the floor, zip tied his wrists and ankles, pulled all the weapons out of his pockets, then left the room.

  In Christopher’s office, the older version of Ryan was leaning against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I am sure you have already figured this out, but I am Breno.” He reached out a hand. I shook it.

  “Breno?”

  “Breno, yes. Ryan and Reese’s father.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. I just never knew your name.”

  Breno stared at me, opened his mouth a few times. “How is that possible?”

  I shrugged. “Christopher refused to talk about you after Carissa died. Eventually, the twins stopped asking. Besides, I thought you were dead.”

  He pushed off the desk hard and strode out of the room mumbling in a language I didn’t recognize. It was like Spanish, but not. So I figured I should follow him.

  “Ahh, Breno. My dear friend. Come to release me? Vivian wouldn’t.” Christopher gave Breno the hundred-watt smile. Something I’d never seen from him.

  Breno grabbed the front of Christopher’s sweater and pulled him closer until they were nose to nose.

  “You lying piece of shit. One thing. I asked you to do one thing.”

  “You asked me to do a number of things,” Christopher said.

  Breno responded, but again in the language I didn’t understand. Surprisingly, Christopher responded. They shouted back and forth for a while, but I got bored.

  “Hey, you guys think you could do this in English?”

  “Yes, let’s. You can untie me. We can sit down like civilized adults.” Christopher seemed surprisingly calm considering his situation.

  “I am sorry, Cooper.” Breno spared me a single glance before returning his angry gaze to Christopher. “It is just that I asked my oldest and best friend in the world to do something for me and he failed miserably.”

  “One thing?” Christopher clenched his fists and tried to free himself for the first time. “One thing? I raised your children, just like you asked. I killed you, for God’s sake. I married your widow. Who, by the way, hated me for the decade that we were married. That is not one thing.”

  “I asked you to look after my family. That is one thing.”

  “And killing my best friend? Where does that fit in?”

  “I’m sorry to break this up.” No, I wasn’t. “But I gotta ask. You’re looking great for someone who is supposed to be dead.”

  “That wasn’t a question,” Christopher said.

  “It was implied.”

  “I thought you said she and Ryan told each other everything,” Breno said to Christopher.

  “They do.”

  “Then why does she keep saying she thought I was dead?”

  “I told you we needed to sit down like civilized adults. Untie me. I’ll explain.”

  Breno scowled and stared at Christopher for a long moment.

  “Will you promise not to run?” I asked.

  “Believe me, I have absolutely nowhere to go.”

  “Fine.”

  The second I cut away Christopher’s restraints, he jumped up.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll explain.”

  “I know you will,” Breno responded.

  And then Christopher pulled Breno into a massive hug. They rocked back and forth a little and pounded on each other’s backs. Breno even grabbed Christopher’s face to kiss him a little violently on each cheek. It was weird. Like, really weird. Like angry, long lost brothers.

  “So I hate to break up the awkwardly long hug, but I thought you guys were hating each other.”

  “I could never hate this man.” Breno pointed at Christopher. They still had their arms around each other. Christopher nodded in agreement. Enthusiastically.

  “So tying each other up was just foreplay?”

  “Watch your mouth,” Christopher said.

  “Whatever. Help me lift Esau into this chair,” I said.

  “Who?” Christopher asked.

  “Hmm, let me think.” I frowned and pointed. “You’re Christopher. I’m Cooper. He’s Breno. Yes, this is a puzzle.”

  Breno started laughing.

  “You are an obnoxious little shit.” Christopher grabbed Esau under his armpits.

  “And you’re a tool.” I grabbed Esau’s legs.

  “Were the two of you alone?” Breno asked.

  “Yep.” I cut the ties on Esau, then secured him to the chair. “Shit, you’re going to kill him aren’t you?”

  “Not necessarily. Do you want to kill him?” Breno offered me a roll of tape. I took it and covered Esau’s mouth.

  “No.”

  “Oh, then, yes, I am going to kill him.”

  “Damn it.”

  “I’m going to make some coffee,” Christopher said. “Come downstairs.”

  *

  “I am not sure where to start,” Breno said.

  “I’m beyond confused, so the beginning.”

  “I was born in São Paulo—”

  “No, please no,” I said. “Fast forward like twenty years.”

  “I worked for the DiGiovannis as—”

  “Wait. Go back.” I couldn’t help myself. “Where’s São Paulo?” Breno looked at me like I was an idiot. That was cool. I was an idiot.

  “Brazil.” He turned to Christopher. “Does she know nothing?”

  “Cooper and your son smoke a lot of pot. It makes them stupid.�
�� I stared at Christopher, totally shocked. “Please, Vivian. I’m not nearly as naïve as you three think I am.”

  “Whatever.” I looked to Breno. “Fast forward again. I’m guessing you were into Carissa and her daddy didn’t like it.”

  “That is an understatement,” he said.

  “They were completely obsessed with each other,” Christopher cut in. “The don threatened to kill Breno when they told him they were engaged.”

  “Can I please tell my own story?” Breno asked. Christopher shrugged. I had never seen him shrug in my entire life. “When the don expressed his dissatisfaction, we decided to elope.”

  “And he stopped you?” I asked.

  “No. We left the country. They didn’t find us for nearly a year.”

  “And shit went down?” I couldn’t help myself.

  “How hard would it be for you two to sit quietly?” Breno asked. Christopher and I didn’t have a response to that. “They forced us back to Chicago. Her father wanted the marriage annulled, but Carissa was already pregnant by then. I spent a week locked up in a basement while he debated what to do.”

  “So how do you fit in to this?” I asked Christopher.

  “I am getting to that,” Breno said.

  “Sorry.”

  “The don decided to kill me. And he wanted Carissa to have an abortion. He wanted to erase every trace of me. I couldn’t let him kill my children.”

  “How’d you get out of it?”

  Breno looked at Christopher, waited for him to speak.

  “Carissa and I went to the don. We offered to get married. That way she could keep the kids and they would be legitimate. It was our only bargaining chip,” Christopher said.

  “How is that a bargaining chip?”

  Breno took a long, deep breath. “The don always wanted them to marry. It was an opportunity to force them into it.”

  “Of course, I refused,” Christopher said.

  “Because he’s your best friend.”

  Christopher nodded. Breno laughed.

  “My God, Christopher. You really didn’t tell them anything?”

  “I didn’t want to revisit old pain.” Christopher looked hurt. Another first.

  “He didn’t want to leave his lover,” Breno said.