I look away to nothing. How am I supposed to answer that? At the rate I'm going, being with me is a series of disappointments waiting to happen.
Syd returns with our drinks, her usual mild expression plastered back on her face. My insides cringe. Coleen knows what Syd is hiding, so this facade is for my benefit.
I have no idea how to approach the situation. If I ask what's wrong, she might tell me the truth. I can't help her. My time belongs to Karl.
But Coleen thinks I make Syd happy, and maybe I do. I like the thought. So Syd can continue to pretend nothing is wrong, and I can continue to pretend I don't know any different. For now.
Syd looks at me as she takes her seat. “What are your plans for today?”
I shrug. “Hope work leaves me alone. That's about it.”
“Don't you ever get a day off?”
I scoff, but manage to keep my thoughts on the matter to myself. Instead, I drink my coffee.
“We should get going.” Coleen glances up from her tablet. “We have ten minutes to get to Larry's house. Where does he live?”
Syd nods, sipping on her straw. “He's just right around the corner. Like, right around. As soon as you exit the parking lot, take a left and just follow the street. It's like four houses down.”
Coleen locks her tablet and places it in the bag at her feet.
Syd turns to me and gives an exaggerated frown.
“Sorry. We did tell my uncle we were coming by, and he hates when people are late.” She leans over the table and pecks my lips. “I'll call you later, okay?”
I bring her face in for a heavier, coffee-flavored kiss then push to my feet. Syd and Coleen gather their bags and head into the parking lot. They stop next to Syd's car to talk, then part ways and disappear out of sight.
It's hot out, and I have nowhere to be so I head home.
Silvia calls just as I let myself through the front door. The only assurance I have she isn't actually spying on me is that she hasn't found out about Syd.
I sigh into the phone. “What do you want, Annie Wilkes?”
Silence.
Then she says, “I don't know who that is.”
“It's from a book. Never mind.” I shove the couch back into place. “Does your dad know you keep calling me?”
“Yes, actually,” she says. “I told him I'm going to start having you protect me when you're not on assignments. That way I can spend time in Phoenix.”
I drop onto the couch. “Ugh. You don't actually mean that. Right?”
“I don't know. Anyway, I have more information about the donation.”
I roll my eyes and lay my head back. “Just forget I asked.”
I should have known better than to involve Silvia. She's as useful as a bag of ice on a sinking ship, and now she's apparently deemed researching the donation our quality time.
“I'm almost to your house,” she says.
I groan. “Why don't you ever give me more than a five minute warning on anything?”
“Fifteen,” she says, unbothered. “Can you be presentable this time?”
“I'll pick up my suit from the dry cleaner,” I say and then hang up. My hand falls to the couch, clutching the phone.
I'm still sitting on the couch when a vehicle pulls into my carport. A car door slams, and footsteps thud on the porch.
I make no effort to get up, but raise my voice before she hits the doorbell. “It's unlocked!”
Silvia pushes open the door and peers inside, then steps over the threshold. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to spontaneously combust.”
She shuts the door like she's late for church and takes a seat in the chair across from me.
I don't know what she's expecting. Probably for me to be angry. I would be, but it's not worth the energy. Besides, I just want her gone before Syd shows up unannounced.
Silvia has her knees together and places her hands on them. “I talked to Glenn.”
“I had coffee.”
She scowls.
“Oh, I thought we were sharing random things about our day.” I sit forward. “Who the hell is Glenn?”
“The infirmary doctor.”
“It's not talking if he's sticking an eight-inch tongue depressor down your throat, Silv.”
She purses her lips. “I asked him about the donation. He said he didn't know anything about it, but then Mattie overheard us. You remember Mattie, right? She's been there since we were kids.”
“I don't think I was ever on first name bases with any of the infirmary, but continue.”
“Mattie said the doctor before Glenn, she had gotten in a fight with my dad. Bad enough to have her escorted out.” Silvia looks down at her hands and frowns. “Mattie said the infirmary has been scared of Daddy since.”
“Hate to break it to you, Princess,” I say, “but everyone is scared of your dad. I don't see what this has to do with the price of rice.”
“Think, Dimitri. Doctors work at hospitals.”
“No shit? So, what's this doctor's name?”
She frowns, still not looking at me. “Glenn didn't know, and Mattie wouldn't tell me.”
“Alright.” I shove to my feet. “We'll just check the Internet and call everyone in Arizona with an M.D. after their name.”
“I think it was bad, Dim.” Her voice is small. “They seemed really scared.”
“It wasn't that bad, or I would have been sent to whack her already.”
She looks up at me. “How do you know you haven't?”
I halt—she has a valid point—then I shrug. “If that's the case, then the doctor is useless. I'm pretty thorough with the making-dead thing.”
I head toward the kitchen.
She follows behind me. “What's it like killing someone?”
My stomach plummets. She becomes a little more strange every day.
I pull open the fridge door and pass her a root beer.
She takes it, sliding onto the stool at the breakfast bar, and watches me as I uncap a water bottle.
“It's nothing like the movies.” I take a drink to give me a chance to figure out what to tell her. “It's messy and smells terrible.”
She continues to stare up at me, hand on her soda. “Do you ever think about them afterward?”
My insides churn. “Can we talk about something else?”
She shrugs and opens the can.
“I got an idea.” I sit the water bottle on the counter on my way to my bedroom.
The file Silvia had brought during our last encounter is on my computer desk. I grab it and bring it back to the kitchen. Her eyes trail me as I round the bar opposite of her, lay down the folder, and lean over it to sort through the papers.
Since the names are organized by department, and then by date of employment, finding what I need takes all of about two minutes.
Doctor Patricia Kerr had been employed by the mansion for nearly a year before being replaced by Doctor Glenn Flounder.
Silvia props herself up on the counter, head near mine, and reads down the list.
I tap my finger on Kerr's name. “That's her. Too bad it doesn't say the cause of termination.”
“I can try to find out,” Silvia says.
I pick up my water bottle and step back, loosening the lid. “Doesn't really matter. We don't know if she's even connected to this donation, or the hospital.”
“Can't you look online to see if she ever worked for that hospital?”
“Probably only if she's still employed there.” I down the water then shrug. “I'll go check.”
Silvia sits quietly on the edge of the bed behind me while I blast music and scrounge the Internet. After two hours, I know a few more facts about Doctor Kerr.
She was a primary care physician, surrendered her license two years ago, and now lives in Danville, Virginia.
I swivel the chair to face Silvia. “No record of what hospitals she worked at, that I can find.”
Silvia is still just sitting on the mattress, feet on t
he floor, staring at me.
“Do you ever blink?”
She looks down. “So go find her.”
“Not interested.”
Silvia's eyes dart back to me. “Well, I am.”
“Look, you don't get to summon me for this shit 'til someone suffocates your father in his sleep.” I rub my eyes and glance at the clock. Late afternoon. Maybe Syd will stop by tonight. “We've hit a roadblock, so just let it go. You should head home.”
“Call her, at least.”
“No phone number. I already checked.” I tap the monitor. “Just a home address. I can write her a letter.”
Silvia cracks a smile. “I think you're more persuasive in person.”
She's got me there.
I gather the papers back into the file and toss it into the desk drawer.
“Let's just entertain this idea.” I turn back to her. “Let's say I show up at her door in Danville, Virginia. Then what?”
“Find out why she left the mansion,” she says, her tone simple. “Find out why she lost her license.”
I stand and gesture for Silvia to lead the way to the living room. “What does it matter? Honestly?”
“That was my money, Dim.” She plants herself into the chair across from the couch. So much for nudging her out the door. “I want to know what he's doing with it.”
Even though I would like to disagree with her, she has a lot at stake here. An entire fortune, to be exact.
Her head snaps up to me. “I can make him stop summoning you.”
“What?”
I don't think I heard her right.
“I'll tell him I want to go to Virginia, and that I'm taking you to protect me.” Her voice grows excited, and so does her expression. “He won't bother you while we're gone. A whole week without being summoned, Dim.”
“A week? Two days, tops.” I still don't sit down. I don't want her to think we're settling in for an evening chat. “Fly there, drive to her house, fly back.”
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head. “I won't get on a plane. Metal isn't meant to fly.”
I narrow my eyes. “There is no way I'm driving from Arizona to Virginia with you. We'll just not go then.”
“Even though the answer might give us a way to make Daddy stop sending you on back-to-back wishes?”
“Fine,” I say, annoyed that she homed in on a more vulnerable spot than she realized. “I'll do this alone.”
She stands, eyebrows raised. “And just how are you going to afford the trip, Dimitri?”
“I have a few credit cards,” I say, straightening.
No way she is winning this one.
“Yeah, credit cards Daddy checks every month.” She smirks. “How are you going to explain being in Virginia without me?”
Our gazes lock. Fiery arrogance roars in her eyes. She is a Walker, and she eventually gets everything she wants—especially from me.
I unclench my teeth just enough to say, “Well played.”
Even before the inheritance, she already owns me.
She gives a small smile. “I'll go pack and let Daddy know. We'll take my car.”
“Uh, no.” I shake my head. “Low key, Silvia. I'll come pick you up.”
She shrugs and then leaves.
I flop down onto the couch. A week on the road with Silvia was not what I had in mind for a vacation. But if we really do find a way to put an end to Karl's neediness as of late, I might be able to sneak in a real trip—with Syd.
I'm not sure how all that will work out. For now, I just have to get to Doctor Kerr and hope she has something useful to share.
***
Syd picks up on the first ring.
“It's after eleven.” Her voice is low and sexy. “Do you need me to come comfort you?”
I repress a moan and slide down in the seat of my car. “I wish. Got kinda bad news.”
She says, “You've reached the wrong extension for bad news. Please hang up and try again.”
I chuckle. I should just cancel this expedition and sign up for the exclusive Syd tour again. But I really do need to find out what's going on with Karl. It's my only chance at figuring out how to handle these insane missions—and not lose Syd over them.
“I gotta go out of town. For a week.”
“A week?” Her voice carries her surprise. “Like, seven days?”
“That's how the calendar shows it, yeah.” I push on the seat to sit upright. “I'm sorry. I'll try to hurry.”
“Well, just be safe . . . ” The disappointment in her tone causes guilt to settle in my stomach.
“I will,” I say, uncertain what else to add.
I'm sure Syd can survive a few days without me, but the thought makes me feel like a jackass anyway.
“I know.” She hesitates. “Where you going?”
“Virginia,” I say, because I won't be killing anyone there. Not even blowing up a building.
“Huh.” It's not a question. I'm not sure what it was, but she doesn't say anything else.
I'm not sure how to proceed. I already apologized, but I don't want to hang up yet either. So I don't do anything.
After a few long minutes, she breaks the silence. Thankfully. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”
“Is it that thing with my tongue again?”
She giggles, and my guilt eases a little.
“That too,” she says. “But while you're in Virginia, can you pick me up a golden ginger?”
I give a low whistle. “Damn, Syd, is it my birthday already?”
“It's an apple, you perv,” she says. “They're from the east coast. Always wanted to try one.”
“Is that a euphemism? I'm not following, but it sounds hot.”
She laughs. “No, Dimitri, it's an actual apple.”
I say, “I gotta admit, I'm not really thinking about apples anymore.”
“Please,” she says in a cute little begging tone that makes me want to invite her over and have her beg for something else. “Just swing by a grocery store and grab me a golden ginger, okay?”
“You're a very strange person,” I say, even though we both know I like it. “I can bring you back an apple, if you really want one, but I gotta get rolling. See ya in a few days.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” she says and then hangs up.
I stare at my phone. An apple? I haven't yet figured out what goes on in her brain, but I wouldn't mind appeasing it for the rest of my life.
***
I pull the Civic into the mansion and call Silvia.
“I just finished packing,” she says, breathless.
“You mean, having your stuff packed,” I reply. “Why do you sound like you've been jogging?”
“Whatever.”
I can picture her fluttering her eyes.
“Are you coming inside?”
“Rather not,” I say.
“Why?”
“I don't want to deal with Karl.”
I probably should make sure he's good with this plan, but Silvia has no reason to get me in trouble with him. It would be like framing the family dog.
“It's almost midnight. He's asleep,” she says, then speaks to someone else in the room, her voice muffled.
“He's never asleep. Just quit making me wait.” I hang up the phone.
Within minutes, she bustles out one set of front doors. A maid follows right behind, carrying her luggage. Silvia is a toy dog away from her own reality show.
When she approaches the car, I roll down my window.
“Hey, Silv?” I gesture at the maid. “You know we can't bring them with us, right?”
Silvia shrugs and rounds to the passenger side.
I glance at her as she climbs in. She lights up a cigarette, takes a puff, and throws it out the window. Then she gives me that unsettling look.
This trip is going to be a disaster.
Chapter 7
The only way Silvia and I are going to survive this trip is if we don't talk. I blast the radio, and she smokes. We're good until we
pass through Phoenix.
Then she turns down the radio. “Where are the hotels?”
I glance at her. “Which hotels?”
“That you reserved.” She taps ashes out the window.
I grin, because I know where this conversation is headed. “I didn't reserve anything. We'll find places as we need.”
She wrinkles her nose as she tosses out the cigarette. “That's . . . barbaric.”
“You've forgotten who you're traveling with.” I resume blaring the speakers.
She turns the radio down. Again. “Do you at least know which city?”
“I'm not a travel agent. And the next time you touch that dial, I'm taking it as a sign you want to go home.”
I crank the volume back up. She scowls at me, then lights another cigarette and turns away.
***
We drive for nearly two hours, heading north. The landscape is desert brush, something Silvia has spent her whole life among, yet she continues to stare at it. I'm pretty sure she's ignoring me. With any luck, she won't do more than blink until we reach the first stop.
The trip just starts to become optimistic when there's a break between songs.
“I want to shower and change my clothes,” she says.
And here we go.
I turn down the radio. “We're not even out of Arizona yet.”
“How much longer?”
“'Til New Mexico?” I focus on the road. “About five or six hours.”
“I mean to Virginia.”
“Like, three days. Once we cross the New Mexico border, I'm not turning around. You have 'til then to decide if you really want to do this.”
“I do,” she replies, without hesitation.
“Yeah, we'll see.” I glance at the road sign. “We're heading into Winslow now.” Then I start singing, “I'm standing on the corner in Winslow, Arizona—”
She taps her hand to my mouth. “Stop. Please.”
“Told you,” I say with a laugh. “I'm not that kind of genie.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Well, I'm not. Hey, look, a stop up here has showers.”
She sits forward. “Let's go there.”
“It's a truck stop, Silv.”
She glances at me with a concerned look.
“Not the Hilton,” I say.
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