Page 38 of Unlawful Lies

It shouldn’t bother me what Edward does or who he owes money to. This is the real price of business, isn’t it? You use what’s at your disposal in order to take down those who stand in your way.

Maybe I even need to borrow a page from his book.

I thought I had the knack of it and look where it got me? Absolutely nowhere.

Hidden from view, Louisa doesn’t see me as she limps into the garden. I jump at the sound of her feet over the gravel path, her attention focusing on something I can’t see. The silence stretches on, the burble of the fountain nothing but a blur in the background.

I haven’t seen her this focused since she and my mother found us children playing in the flour. The two of them went off like hell on asphalt and marched me and Scott out to this fountain, dunking us under.

I shake my head and lose my breath entirely when a second person steps out from the shadows of the arbor.

“You’re late, Stefan.” Louisa’s crisp voice carries well enough. She leans her head forward in a conspiratorial fashion. “I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“You can’t be too careful,” the second person says. “I needed time to make sure things were clear.”

“Of course things are clear. I know what to do.”

I glance at them sharply, rubbing a hand over my chest to remind myself to stay quiet. No one is supposed to be out here, no strangers. Where are the guards?

Suspicion keeps me quiet, and I duck down to avoid detection, muscles constricting.

I only half see the man she’s meeting, but his height marks him as different from anyone else I know. And the fedora hat…

It doesn’t move from his head, not even with the wind sweeping through the garden and ruffling the leaves, setting the flower buds to flicker and dance.

Their profiles are only semi-visible from this angle, and the light from overhead is enough for me to catch a glimpse of his features. A scar, twisting the man’s lip that he’s attempted to hide with a face tattoo. The hat, the height, the scar?—

I lose my breath. Didn’t Edward say he saw someone like that the night of my father’s murder? What would he be doing here, and what’s his business with Louisa? I recoil back from the sight, shaking my head.

“We need to talk about the money.” Louisa gazes solemnly up at the man, and he raises an eyebrow at her, wearing a neutral expression.

My instincts scream at me, willing me to sit up and pay attention.

To absorb and memorize every detail of their interaction because we have a traitor in our midst.

Edward isn’t clean, he isn't innocent, but right now, he’s the one I’ve got in my corner.

“The money is going to be transferred to our account once the loose ends are tied,” the man snaps at Louisa, although his face hasn’t changed. “We have to be patient. The police are working for us, not against us. Nothing will be helped along by your continued meddling.”

Louisa laughs scornfully. “You wouldn’t have even looked this way if not for my meddling. What else is left?”

“The girl.” Those two words land like hammer blows. His malice is clear, the fourth person in the garden with us.

“Nicola? She’s no one. She has no idea what she’s doing, and the police will have her too nervous to suspect anything.”

“I’m not willing to place my faith in her like you are. There’s no way to assure the girl won’t be a nuisance.”

The longer I crouch there watching, the tighter my knees. They lock in place, and my palms go clammy. It’s not possible. This isn’t happening. I’ve fainted, and this is my fever dream, the worst of my personal nightmares where everyone I care about turns against me.

Louisa can’t be involved in any of this. She can’t turn on me and leave me truly, really alone. Would death be better than that?

“Nicola is basically a child. She wants nothing to do with this life. She wasn’t even capable of bringing down Edward Balestra the way her father demanded,” Louisa replies.

The shock of hearing his name jolts me into action.

No, death isn’t the option. It’s the weak way out, giving up right when things get tough. But if I stay here much longer, they’ll find me. Their conversation will only last so long before they part ways, and one or both of them come this way. Louisa is right on one thing: this isn’t my world, not really.

I’ve been adjacent.

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