Page 83 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
“Ignore him,” she said. “That’s what I do.”
I didn’t think that was true, not at all, but I was reassured that she seemed so blasé about Philip.
I’d been worried about her, locked up here in a tower like some damsel in distress. I worried that Philip was hurting her, that he was cruel to her, but she didn’t seem hurt or scared, not in the least. She sparkled. She could have been faking it, but I liked to think I knew her well enough to see through that. She seemed at ease here. Not happy, necessarily—had I ever seen her happy?—but content.
The idea that I could snoop here, that I could spy here, seemed laughable. This place was huge, and the information well secured. They’d given me a glass of water, not the combination to the vault, but I had to try.
I wasn’t sure whether I would help that asshole cop. I thought not, actually, but knowledge was power, or so said my third-grade teacher. If I at least had the information, I could bargain if it came to that. And there was no doubt in my mind that if it was between me and Philip, or even Colin and Philip, that I’d sell Philip out. I wanted to ingratiate myself with Philip, just for Colin, but not so much that I’d let him endanger my family.
“Sorry.” I interrupted Philip. Oops. “Bailey made a mess. Could you point me to the bathroom?”
“Down there.” Rose pointed back where we’d come from. “Third door on the right.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Shelly, can you come help me a sec?”
Shelly slipped off the bar chair and grabbed the diaper bag. She wasn’t even surprised, probably expecting some sort of scoop. Well, she’d get it and then some.
I’d thought we could slip into one of the other rooms to talk, but it turned out my request for her to join us wasn’t as ridiculous as I’d thought. This bathroom didn’t have a bathtub or shower. Instead it had several sinks spread across a long counter, a love seat, and a door opening to a toilet. It was like the bathroom at the swanky mall, before it had gotten ghetto.
“What’s up?” she asked.
I sat Bailey on the love seat and handed her the tube of diaper rash cream to occupy her while I told Shelly what the cop had said. I left out the part about the groping, but Shelly was a smart girl. She’d put together his visit with my breakdown yesterday. She still may not know why exactly, but it probably wouldn’t take her long to connect it back to that time in the hospital either.
Shelly shook her head. “You’re crazy, sweetheart.”
“I know,” I agreed. “But I have to do something. Colin doesn’t keep anything around the house.” I knew that, not from snooping but just from trying to do a kick-ass job at cleaning. There weren’t any papers in the study. The computer was password protected, and I wasn’t so skilled a spy that I could break into that. Besides, I felt oddly better about poking around in Philip’s home than in Colin’s. Even though Colin might see it as the same thing, it sort of wasn’t. I wouldn’t let my actions harm Colin.
“Well,” Shelly said. “Philip doesn’t leave stuff around either. He’s kind of paranoid. If there’s anything important, it’ll be in his study. And there wouldn’t be much online either. From what I’ve seen, he’s real old-fashioned. Likes to do things by paper. No chance of backups or hackers or anything.”
“Paper?” I asked. “Isn’t that less secure? I’d expect a fancy dude like hi
m to have high-tech security and shit.”
“Oh, he does,” she said. “The whole house is rigged to burn if the security gets tripped. No paper trail, just ashes.”
Great, we were having dinner in a matchbox. Paranoid was right. “So what do I have to do to make sure we don’t all fry?”
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” I said.
“All right.” She reached between her breasts and pulled out a key.
I accepted the key, still warm from her body, and gave her a wry look. “Really?”
“I make it work,” she said airily. I didn’t even want to know how she had this key. Even if Philip trusted her, why would she need it? She wouldn’t. I narrowed my eyes. She gave me her best “I’m a dumb blonde” smile. Not that I bought it for a second, but I also knew when I was beat. And running out of time.
“Okay,” I said. “You go back to the group. I need to freshen up.”
“Sure thing,” she said, playing along. “I’ll take Bailey. She doesn’t get enough time with Aunt Shelly.”
She trooped out the bathroom door with the diaper bag and Bailey. I used the bathroom. Well, I had to pee. And I was already nervous enough to piss myself as it was. I washed up and then peeked out the door. No one.
Feeling very suave and very terrified, I slipped into the hallway and down to the double doors that I recognized from the study.
What if he was in there? Or someone else could be. I rapped lightly. Nothing.
The lock was a monster of a dead bolt, but the key slid in and turned easily. I pushed the door open just a crack, waiting for flames. Then I laughed at myself. It would be a fitting way to go for my sins.
