Page 46 of Web of Lies
Larken takes a breath and gives me a sad smile. “Thank you. I'm sorry.”
“I understand why you're afraid, Larken. Regardless of how this situation began, I was never going to drug or poison you. It isn't my style.”
She glances at Shaun.
“Not my style either, baby,” he assures. “I'm more of a hands-on type of guy.”
She nods and takes another breath before she puts the spoon into the bowl and lifts it to her lips. She swallows and puts the spoon back into the bowl. “I don't know if I can do it.”
“Is it the soup itself? Or food in general.”
Larken thinks for a moment before answering. “My favorite is tomato bisque.”
And just like that, I go back to the opinion that she's the most spoiled woman that I’ve ever met.
“Adrian used to make it for me. The recipe he uses is perfect. It's delicious. I guess that's why he used it…” Her eyes flick to mine before going back to stare down at her soup. “He put the medication in it. Smoothies, too. I don't think I can eat tomato soup anymore. Or smoothies.”
I exchange a look with Shaun. “That's alright. I need you to eat a sandwich, at least. If you want something more, we can make it.”
She nods again and takes a bite of the sandwich I started on. Shortly after lunch is finished, she falls asleep in her chair. We don't bother securing her to the chair again. Larken isn't trying to get away. Shaun was right about that, too. We're not the bad guys here.
“I like her hair,” Shaun says. He's sitting in his usual place on the couch watching her.
“I need to go out. I'm making a delivery to the husband this afternoon.”
“Wouldn't it make more sense for me to do it?”
It might, and I'm tempted to let him because of the whole shower incident, but it's not happening. All I need is to take this bag of her hair to her husband and come back to find Shaun doing more than just groping her. “Maybe, but I'm going. Are you good here?”
He turns on the TV, making sure the volume is low. “Yeah, I'm good.”
I grab the freezer bag with Larken's hair from the counter in the kitchen and the keys from the hook by the door before heading out. I don't intend to be gone long. I'm going to stop by a florist and pick up a bouquet. I wish I knew what flowers Larken likes best. Roses usually do the trick because everyone uses them for this kind of thing, but I think it would hit the husband so much harder if her hair was tucked into a bouquet of her favorite flowers.
Considering the husband is even aware of what her favorite flowers are.
One dozen pink roses later, I'm at the front desk of Vincent Solutions communicating the recipient of the bouquet to the receptionist.
“I can take them to Mr. Nash’s office, but I need you to sign them in.” She pushes a clipboard toward me, eyeing my surgical mask.
I give a loud fake cough to further demonstrate how unwell I am. The working-class, us versus them story that I gave her is that I'm sick with something but couldn't get a day off from work so please feel sorry for me and make this as easy as possible. “Okay,” I say in a nasally, stuffy tone, “I'll sign it, but you should probably disinfect the pen afterwards.” I scribble a few lines that resemble a signature and a time on the next line of the sheet on the clipboard and hand it back to her.
She barely glances at it. “Alright. I'll run this up as soon as I can. I hope you feel better.” I can almost see her plans to disinfect the whole desk and everything on it, not just the pen I touched.
“Thanks. I'll try. You take care.” I start for the door and turn back just in time to see her throw the pen in the trash can. I don't blame her, I'd trash a pen, too, if I thought it carried the plague. It also works out for me because a pen that I touched going into the trash just makes everything cleaner.
The bag of Larken's hair is rolled up in the freezer bag and tucked neatly into the bundle of stems. Whoever puts them in water will discover it, as well as the note with the newly increased amount printed on it. If the situation were different, if I had been hired to abduct a man for ransom, there actually would be a finger among those pretty pink blossoms. I hope the insinuated threat will be enough to encourage Adrian to send the money and keep things going.
But...
Why? What is the point of him sending money? Larken isn't going back to him and now that the police and news stations are involved she will have to make an appearance. Adrian has twisted my arm in a way that I didn't anticipate. Sure, I can send her back. I can truss her up, throw her back in the trunk, and drop her off on her own lawn in the middle of the night, but I'm not doing that. It would be wrong on a level that I'm not comfortable with. Her trauma is deep and obvious. I'm not going to be the person who makes that worse.
I never should have taken this job. What am I even supposed to do with this mess? Keep her? Then what? I could just cut her loose, but her face has been all over the news. Someone would turn her in. The police would pick her up, and then she goes back to her husband, so that's out. I could let Shaun drive her off into the sunset. That seems like a functional option now that they're getting handsy in the shower.
I am not jealous.
I don't care where his hands go, so long as it doesn't make things more difficult for me. I really should send him off with her and the money. It would serve him right.
Sighing, I drop my mask into the gutter before I step into the parking garage where I left the car. It's two blocks away from Vincent Solutions and I didn't take a straight route to get back, not that I'm truly worried about anyone seeing and recognizing me.
