Page 74 of Thief of Night
“I think so,” Posey said.
“And you have no dogs, correct?”
“Just a demonic cat,” said Charlie.
The woman’s smile was unamused, the movement of her lips only a polite reflex. She handed the envelope to Charlie, who could feel the weight of the keys inside.
She went to the elevator and pressed the brass button for the second floor, a sinking feeling in her gut. A couple with a stroller came in from outside, scarves around their throats.
“Old buildings,” the man said to Charlie and Posey apologetically, when he saw them waiting. “Everything takes a little longer.”
They rode up together, although the family was headed for the third floor. The baby gummed on a necklace that appeared to be made of soft beige beads. The woman bent over the stroller to tuck the blanket more firmly around the child.
When Charlie and Posey got to 9A, the key turned smoothly in the oiled lock. Inside the apartment, large windows let ample sunlight spill over onto original hardwood floors. High ceilings added to its grandeur. Intricate plaster moldings filled Charlie with a kind of longing. Not just to live in a place like this, but to be the sort of person who could. Someone who relaxed over French press coffee in a sun-dappled kitchen with a stone countertop. Who had a multi-step skincare routine instead of a multi-step process to cover up her bruised eye.
To be like the handsome couple with the stroller, complaining about the slowness of the elevator.
“How are we affording this place?” she asked Posey.
“Don’t you like it?” Posey returned.
“You know that’s not the point,” Charlie said. “The money doesn’t add up. Our rent should be twice what it is.”
“We caught a break,” said Posey. “Can’t we just be happy?”
Charlie couldn’t, but that wasn’t her sister’s problem. With a grunt, she headed back to the elevator. Time to move a lot of boxes into the impossibly beautiful space.
A woman came out from the apartment across the hall. “Charlie?” said a familiar voice—Suzie Lambton.
Shit. It’s true that I broke into your condo,Charlie thought.And slept in your bed like that little bitch Goldilocks. And stole some of your clothes. I am a total asshole. Please don’t guess it was me.But what she actually said was, “Hi.”
“That guy you brought to Barb and Aimee’s party—I didn’t recognize him at first, but that was Remy, right? Remy Carver?”
“Yeah,” Charlie agreed warily.
“You called him something else, though,” Suzie said.
“He goes by his middle name,” Charlie said. “Vince.” That, at least, had the virtue of being true. And Charlie was happy for any subject that wasn’t breaking-into-condo-related.
“I—we even talked that night. I don’t know how I didn’t see it.” Suzie frowned at the floor.
“Did you know him?” Charlie asked.
Suzie waved a hand loftily in the air. “He went out with a girl I was in high school with. He was at Deerfield and I went to Williston, so there was a lot of cross-dating. We hung out a couple of times. I can’t believe I didn’t—oh, we were just talking about you!”
Red had walked up the stairs, box in hand. It was markedBOOKS TO HATE READ. He looked startled.
Of courseSalt had sent Remy to Deerfield. It was elite enough for a multimillionaire working toward being a billionaire and local enough for him to take Red out for a day trip to murder someone, no questions asked. Charlie had looked up where Remy went to college, but hadn’t considered high school.
Lots of people around town would have known Remy. Not people Charlie hung out with regularly, but the Valley was small.
Her name is Suzie Lambton. You flirted with her right under my nose at a party and maybe knew her a tiny bit when you were a teenager.
“Suzie, right?” he said smoothly, recovering. “Are you in this building?”
Her smile wasveryfriendly in return. Charlie couldn’t even fault her for it. Her smiles had been friendly before she knew he was due to inherit hundreds of millions. “Just visiting. Did you know that you dated a friend of mine when you were at Deerfield?”
His expression stiffened. “Sona,” he said finally.
