Page 77 of Prince of Control
“Okay, now you two.” Baron twists to look at Anders and Melinda.
They slide out of the car and walk across the street. The automatic door swings open for them, as if Leo hit the wheelchair button.
“Let’s go, malysh.” Baron hands me a baseball cap, and I pull my hair up in a twist and put it on.
The door swings open for us, too. Baron rubs a hand over his face strategically, murmuring in Russian that there’s a camera straight ahead.
Anders and Melinda have disappeared.
“You take the elevator; we’ll take the stairs,” Baron tells Leo.
“See you there.” Leo seems to vanish behind us as Baron leads me to the stairwell. We walk up one flight of stairs to the second floor hallway where we find Anders with Melinda boosted on his shoulders putting a stretched piece of chewing gum across the camera in the corner.
Leo faces a door, both hands working the knob with his tools. A moment later, he disappears inside the apartment. Baron and I follow, with Melinda and Anders right behind.
Baron produces two pairs of latex gloves from his pocket and hands me a pair.
“Right. No fingerprints.” I take the gloves and slide them over my hands. They’re too big, leaving gaps at the ends of the rubber fingers.
“Don’t touch anything unless you have to,” he tells me.
I nod, walking through the messy studio apartment. It smells like stinky socks and jockstraps. The school year just started but there appears to be a years’ worth of crumbs on the floor. A bowl of half-eaten macaroni and cheese sits in the sink.
“Well, that was easy.” Leo is on his hands and knees looking under the bed. “I found the cash.” He pulls out a paper bag and turns the open mouth to show us stacks of money inside.
“How much was drugging me worth?” Melinda demands, taking the bag in her oversized gloves and opening it. She dumps bundles of money on the kitchen counter to count.
Baron picks up the trashcan in the bathroom and peers inside, then shows it to me. Inside is packaging from a syringe and some kind of medicine.
“Is that rohypnol?” I ask.
“Yes. Well, a generic brand,” Baron confirms. He plucks out the used syringe and holds it up for the rest to see. To Melinda, he says, “You didn’t ingest it. The fucker injected you, so it would act faster to seem as if you’d been roofied at the party.”
Melinda looks horrified, her hand flying to her neck.
“Let me see.” Anders quickly starts scanning her body, turning her around. When he gets to her thighs, he asks, “What’s this?”
We all rush over to examine a tiny circular bruise on her thigh.
“I didn’t leave that,” Anders says.
Melinda blushes, making me wonder which bruises he did leave.
“If your dad can get a warrant, the police could find all this. It’s probably enough to convict him.” Baron’s expression holds total neutrality. “Do you want to go the legal route, or can we take care of him?”
“What are you going to do to him?” Melinda asks.
“Take the money and torture him until he gives up who paid him to do this to you. Then break his leg.” Baron considers and shrugs. “Or his arm. Something that will fuck up his football season, so he loses his scholarship, and you won’t have to see him around here again.”
“I’ll take door number two,” she says. Some life has come back to her now that revenge is in sight. Like the power this guy took from her when he drugged her has returned.
Baron flashes a grin, and there’s a momentary boyishness to him that melts my heart.
Melinda hands the bag of money to Baron. “Six thousand dollars is what assaulting me and framing you was worth to him.”
Baron glances in the bag but doesn’t move to take it. “It’s yours. You’re the one who was hurt by this.”
She thrusts the bag back. “Consider it my rent money. I’m living in Baranov House now.”
