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To cap it all, it starts raining as I’m standing in the middle of the woods, trying to work out what to do next.
I’ve no choice but to walk. I get wet standing still or I get wet moving. Hopefully, it’s not too far and I’ll be able to get dry at the house.
The walk takes longer than I thought. By the time I see a house in the distance, I’m soaked to the skin and the sun is just about gone.
The entire time, I’ve been surrounded by trees, but in front of me, the forest has been cleared. There’s a meadow filled with long grass and in the distance a driveway heading up to an ominous looking dark stone house. There are no lights showing from any of the windows as I approach.
About two hundred yards from the house, I reach a set of iron gates. Above them, on poles, cameras are pointing down at me. I try waving at them but the gate doesn’t move. I search in the dark for a buzzer but I don’t find one.
“That’s just perfect,” I say out loud, looking at the surrounding wall, wondering whether to try and climb it.
What choice do I have? It’s that or a long walk back to Gibson’s Mill. Even if I do turn around and leave, where am I going to go?
I’m still looking up at the wall when one of the gates swings silently inward. “Thank you,” I call up to the nearest camera, giving it a thumb’s up.
I walk through, heading as fast as I can up to the house, the light rapidly fading. By the time I reach the front door, it’s properly dark. There’s no lights on anywhere in the house. I can make out shutters on the downstairs windows.
Is there anyone actually here?
I knock on the door and wait, praying someone answers. I can’t stay out here in the rain all night.
I almost jump out of my skin when the door suddenly opens. Looking out is a beautiful woman in her mid-fifties. She’s way taller than me, her hair and maid’s outfit immaculate.
“Good evening,” she says in a friendlier voice than her unsmiling face suggests. “You must be Anna. I’m Eva. Come on inside and get out of the rain.”
I let her guide me into the house. The door closes behind me. A bolt slides home and I suddenly feel trapped. I look at Eva and she’s still not smiling.
“This way,” she says, walking in front of me. “Mr. Donatello is expecting you.”
Nine
Marco
* * *
I’m on the phone in my study when she arrives at the outer perimeter. The alarm is the first sign. I flick the screen on my computer and there she is, waving up at the camera, looking as beautiful as the last time I saw her.
She’s on foot. How did that happen?
I’ll find out later. For now, I’ve got to end this call.
Piper is still making threats on the other end. I’ve been tuning him out for a while. Keeps going on about percentages and collateral damage and how business isn’t personal.
All I’m thinking is I’m enjoying riling him up. That and how best to fuck him over.
The answer to my problem is out by the gates, looking for a way inside. I hit the button under the desk. The gate swings open. She even gives me a thumb’s up, like I’m doing her a favor, rather than bringing her in to ruin her life.
I mute the phone. “She’s on her way up to the house,” I say into the intercom.
Eva will bring her inside while I finish things up here.
I come back to the phone in time to cut into Piper’s speech. “Cut the bullshit,” I tell him. “You want to know whether I’ll let you use my trucks to traffic your victims down to cartel territory so they can work as slaves in your drug factories. I got that right?”
“You recording this call?” he replies, his voice as sleazy as ever. “Getting some evidence on me to flip?”
“I’m going to ask you one question, Piper.”
“If it’s about burning your house down, I told you, I wasn’t the one who started playing hardball. I warned you what we’d do if you refused. This is what you get for playing with the big boys, Marco. The cartel isn’t kind when you turn them down.”
