“I don’t want you to come,” Celeste said.
“It’s not that risky. I could hire a doctor.” The thought terrified him. Him, outside and helpless under the sun. His heart raced, and Edison licked his bare arm.
“I wasn’t thinking of you,” she said. “I was thinking of me.”
“But you just have to receive me, like a queen on a throne. We could keep the visit short. I wouldn’t want to overtire you.”
“I don’t want you to come,” she repeated.
Edison nudged the phone with his nose. The dog knew the call was upsetting him. Joe lifted up the phone and motioned for the dog to sit back. “Thanks, Celeste.”
“I don’t want you to see me.” She coughed for a long spell, and he waited her out. “Like this.”
“You’re beautiful.” He’d fallen in love with her the moment he saw her, before he’d even known the wonderful, complex mind behind her gorgeous face.
“I look like Stephen Hawking.”
“I’m a nerd,” he said. “I think Stephen Hawking is kind of hot.”
Even that line didn’t get a laugh.
“I used to be hot, but I’m not anymore,” she said.
Edison licked his cheek and nuzzled his shoulder. Joe took a couple of deep breaths. He focused on the warm dog leaning against him and the sound of water trickling down the wall. Celeste needed him to stay calm. It wasn’t about his hurt feelings. She was dying, and he needed to be there for her, however she wanted.
Still, he tried again. “I don’t want to remember you from five years ago.” The color for five appeared — brown. “I want to make new memories with you.”
“We do.” He strained to hear her words. “Like this. On the phone. We do.”
“I want more,” he said.
“This is a lot.”
“How can you not know that you will always be beautiful to me?”
“If we stay like this.”
“My mother used to say that physical appearance is vanity,” Joe said. “That the real truth about anyone is never on the surface.”
“Your mother always looks like a model.”
“That’s not my point.” A lifelong performer, his mother always looked ready to step onto a stage. “I’m not going to think less of you if I can look you in the eye. If anything, I’ll think more of you because that’s the real you.”
“This is the real me, too.” She was quiet for a long time. “Maybe it would be best if we stopped the calls, too.”
“But—”
She’d already broken the connection.
He called her back immediately. His call went straight to voicemail. Their first fight since he’d inadvertently moved to New York, but it was a doozy. She still didn’t want him to see her, but now, maybe, didn’t even want to speak to him again.
Joe stuffed the phone in his pocket and sat up. The magic of the garden was gone. He was just a guy sitting in a tunnel. Celeste, the woman he’d always known was his one true love, was worried about dying sometime in the next month, and she wouldn’t let him go to her, hold her, and comfort her.
Edison climbed into his lap like a giant housecat and leaned against Joe’s chest. Joe wrapped his arms around the dog and rested his chin on top of Edison’s head. Together, they stared up at the seagull.
For the first time, Joe noticed the bird wasn’t flying toward him. It was flying away.
Chapter 5
Vivian waited to talk to Mr. Kazakov. She had to check out with him personally every time she went home for the day. A pain in her ass since he was always busy, but it meant he knew exactly who was supposed to be protecting him and his family at any given time. Not a sloppy man, Mr. Kazakov. She respected that.
She’d been told to wait in the library and make herself comfortable, so she stood next to a massive white fireplace that looked like it was cleaned daily with a toothbrush. She certainly wouldn’t sit down without being invited. Even if she didn’t have eyes on Katrinka, she was on duty.
A carved chess set rested on a small table. A game was in progress, but Vivian didn’t know enough about chess to know if black or white was winning.
Tall bookshelves reached up to twelve-foot ceilings. Leather-bound books filled each shelf. Some people bought books by the foot to color coordinate them with their furniture. Was Mr. Kazakov one of those?
She walked over to check out the titles. All in Russian. Her respect for her employer kicked up a notch. Maybe he hadn’t read these books, but he’d bought them in Russian and probably shipped them here at great expense so he might read them. They weren’t just furniture.
Katrinka wandered in and flopped into a white leather chair. She kicked her sock-clad feet against the dark wooden floor. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m waiting to check out with your father. You know the procedure.”
Katrinka snorted and looked at the flames. “Are you going to tell him about the purse?”
“He’s my employer.” In truth, Vivian wasn’t sure what she’d do. Katrinka hadn’t broken the law, and maybe she hadn’t even intended to. She might have returned the purse herself. And monkeys might fly.
Vivian’s phone buzzed. Joe Tesla. Hopefully, he had some work that was more interesting than babysitting.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Katrinka grinned.
“Another employer.” Vivian took the call, ready to disconnect if Mr. Kazakov arrived.
“Tesla here,” he said. “Do you have a minute?”
“I might have to hang up on short notice.”
“Fine.” He’d called her using Facetime, and he looked off camera at something else.
“Are you in immediate danger?” she asked.
He gave a forced laugh. “No, nothing like that.”
Katrinka came and stood behind her. “He looks cute. Like a vampire.”
“Who’s that?” Tesla asked.
“Katrinka,” the teen said. “Vivian works for me.”
“I work for her father,” Vivian corrected. “And you were saying, Mr. Tesla?”
“Edison dug up some interesting artifacts in the tunnels. It’s been bothering me all day.” Clearly Tesla didn’t want to get involved in her arguments with Katrinka. “Let me show you.”
The camera dipped and came to rest on a black tube resting on a green surface. He must be in his billiards room. The camera moved across three identical tubes and settled on a gray clutch.
“Lipsticks and a purse?” Had Tesla lost it? “I see them, sir.”
“Can you get closer to the clutch?” Katrinka leaned against Vivian, her head practically obscuring Vivian’s view.
“The what?” Tesla sounded puzzled.
“The bag,” Katrinka said. “Pan across it slowly.”
Tesla did as he was told.
“That’s Prada!” Katrinka said. “Can I have it if you don’t want it?”
“Why are you showing me these items?” Vivian took control of the conversation.
“Edison found them buried in a locked room a couple of miles south of the house.”
“Probably rats,” Vivian said. “Rats bury all kinds of things.”
“It’s a pretty big purse—”
“Clutch,” Katrinka corrected.
“Clutch,” Tesla said. “It’s a pretty big object for a rat to drag all the way down there and bury.”
“You have pretty big rats,” Vivian answered.
“Can you find out who this stuff might have belonged to?” Tesla asked. “Maybe get some fingerprints off them?”
After they were buried by a rat, dug out by a drooling dog, then handled by Tesla. “I can try.”
“You can look up the serial numbers on the bag,” Katrinka said. “And then, if you don’t want it, you can give it to me.”