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Maybe they have a daily fight, push each other into trying to make the first move in their stupid pissing contest of death and destruction.
“Pity,” I say, stepping further in the room, “because the mind does wonder what that would be like.”
“Not with him,” mutters Jac. “You on the other hand…”
This is the perfect moment for Hendrick to rub Jac’s face in what happened, where I went in the early hours. But of course, he doesn’t. He takes the higher road. “Not that we don’t…enjoy your company, but we’re in the middle of something. So why are you here?”
Jac glares. “I’m done. As I said, Agnossio, nothing’s changed, and you still haven’t told me why you killed my father.”
Hendrick closes his eyes, and this is getting off track. My brain is starting to spark and spit with the buzz of wayward thoughts of the two of them, and needling them, pushing buttons and taunts are fun, especially where the fast-growing fantasies are leading me, but I don’t think the three of us getting it on is going to happen.
More importantly, it’s not why I’m here.
“I heard,” I say, “I was outside the door. I actually don’t think Hendrick killed him.”
Jac’s eyes narrow. “Taking your lover’s side?”
“And what does that make you?” The words slip from me before I can stop them, but I hold up a hand to stop Jac answering.
It’s Jac. He answers, anyway. “I don’t know? Dirty little secret?”
I don’t miss the venom and the hint of something else I can’t quite pinpoint in his caramel butter voice.
“This is getting us nowhere,” I say.
“Oh, I don’t know. It might. Maybe not where you want to go, though?” Hendrick looks at Jac, then me.
I somehow withhold the flinch. “It’s all complicated.”
“She doesn’t like complications,” Hendrick says, poison in his velvet sandpaper tone.
“No,” I say. “I don’t.”
“I’m with him, actually. In a manner of fucking speaking.” Jac frowns. “Why the fuck are you here and how the fuck would you know about what he did or didn’t do?” Then he offers a nasty grin and points at me and then Hendrick and back again. “Unless this is how you do pillow talk, MG.”
“Jac.” Hendrick pinches the bridge of his nose.
I take the helm.
“Think about it,” I say, half turning to Jac. “If Hendrick did kill your father, wouldn’t he rub your face in it?”
There’s a pink book in Jac’s ringed hand and I immediately know it’s Lili’s. Hendrick probably gave it to him.
I’ve got the drive on me, the one with all the photos, but I leave it in my pocket. It was going to be one of the plans to get Hendrick to take me to the necklace, and get Jac there, too. But since Jac came here, I don’t think I need it.
“Who knows with him.” Jac sends Hendrick a dark look.
Hendrick sighs. “I didn’t kill your father.”
“Your name was in the appointment book.”
“Yeah, Jac,” Hendrick says. “I’m that fucking stupid. I’ll fucking do that, make an appointment, and kill him.”
Jac’s eyes narrow. “It was the same way I killed your fuck of a father.”
“And everyone knew that. Water under bridges, Jac,” Hendrick says in a dangerous voice. “I’ll ask again. Why are you here, Magdalena?”
His attention shifts back to me so fast, I feel it like a light scrape against the skin.
