I asked, “What’s to keep me from running outside and climbing over that big stone wall?”
“Men with guns. There are many on this property. You might not always see them, but trust me when I say, they see you.”
“And if I went out there and told the gardeners I was being held prisoner, what would they do?”
“Nothing. Mr. Ashcroft is an excellent employer. You’ll find we’re all exceedingly loyal to him.”
“Even though he occasionally kidnaps people.”
“I know you didn’t ask for this, Manny.” I was surprised to hear him use my nickname, before remembering he’d read it inJavier’s text. It also occurred to me that he didn’t know my last name, since he’d addressed everyone else as Mr. so-and-so. “But you’re in a lovely place, where you’ll be treated like an honored guest—unless you insist on causing trouble or trying to run off.”
“At which point I’ll be chained up in the dungeon?”
He smiled at me and said, “You certainly have a flair for the dramatic.” He turned away from the window, gesturing to the left as he changed the subject. “The dining room and kitchen are that way. Dinner is served at seven. If you’re polite to Mrs. Silva, the cook, she might be persuaded to take your meal requests into consideration. But don’t even think about touching anything in her kitchen. I tried making myself an egg and toast once in her absence, and she’s still miffed. That was seven years ago.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Very good. Now, one floor up, there are several well-appointed guest rooms to choose from, while here on the ground floor there’s a wonderful library, a screening room with an extensive movie collection, and a billiard room. If you care to venture outdoors to enjoy this lovely weather, you’ll find a swimming pool, tennis court, putting green, and other amusements. I trust all of these amenities will be enough to keep you occupied while Mr. di Pietro completes his painting.”
“In other words, the prison you’re keeping me in is very fancy.”
Fitzpatrick smiled at me. “You can be happy here, or you can be miserable. It’s your choice.” He crossed the room to Salvatore and asked, “Does everything appear satisfactory, Mr. di Pietro?”
“I think so. Whoever assembled these supplies knew what they were doing.”
“Indeed. We brought in an expert with an understanding of not just art, but historical accuracy.”
“The only thing missing is a projector,” Salvatore said. “This will go a lot faster if I can project the original onto the canvas and map it out.”
“I’ll find one right away. If you think of anything else you need, and not just in terms of painting supplies, ask any staff member and they’ll phone me with your request. With that, I’ll leave you to it, gentlemen.”
After Fitzpatrick left, Salvatore turned to me and asked, “Can we talk?”
“Not now. I’m too angry, so all I’ll do is yell.”
“Well, whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me.”
He turned back to the paints and started organizing them, and I picked up my overnight bag and went upstairs. After checking out every guest room, I selected one at the end of the hall with dark teal paint and framed botanical prints. It was smaller than the others, but I liked the fact that it was on a corner with windows on two walls. I opened them to let in some fresh air before curling into a ball on the four poster bed.
All of this was pretty overwhelming, but I had to get a grip. There were days and weeks of this ahead of me. Somehow, I needed to learn to be okay here.
As much as I wanted to keep hiding in my room, hunger drove me out shortly before seven. I could hear something going on downstairs, so I crept down the hall and paused near the top of the staircase.
Several people walked past, either on their own or in small groups. I crouched down and watched them. Nearly half of them were guards dressed in black, some with shoulder holsters. Werethey always a part of this household, or had they been brought in specifically for Salvatore and me?
Once the procession ended, I snuck downstairs and went to see where they’d gone. The double doors to a large kitchen were open. Ashcroft’s employees were filling plates at a buffet, then taking a seat at one of two long farm tables to eat their meal. Their conversations were light and cheerful. It all seemed so… normal.
There was another open doorway at the end of the hall. I darted past the kitchen, fully aware that I was acting like a scared little rabbit, and continued on to the dining room. Two elaborate place settings and lit candles were set up at one end of a long, mahogany table. There was also a fancy buffet on a sideboard with silver chafing dishes and crystal bowls full of delicious-looking things.
I hurried over to the food and wrapped four dinner rolls in a cloth napkin. Salvatore came in just as I was sticking the bundle inside my hoodie. “You probably don’t need to worry about them trying to starve us,” he said. “I’m doing everything Ashcroft wants.”
“I know, but my anxiety has been pretty out of control since this started, and it’s stirring up some stuff from my past.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated before telling him, “Kit and I were homeless for a while after my mom died, and food insecurity was an issue. Right now, I’m not in control of what’s available, or when, or whether it’ll get taken away at some point. That’s more or less how I used to feel back then. Even if there’s no point in hoarding any of this stuff, I feel a little calmer knowing I have my own stash.”
“I never knew you were homeless.”
