The Misfit - Page 25

“And that’s the last you saw of him?”

“That’s the last I saw of him.”

He didn’t respond to that. He turned his back on me, leaning on one of the bookcases. I could see he was pondering what I had told him, likely trying to work out if any of it was true or if I was making it all up. I needed to keep my cool. I wasn’t going to give him any reason to doubt what I was saying. I needed him to believe me, even if it was a lie.

“How did you end up here?” he pressed.

“The men, they turned up at the room I got near the airport in Chicago,” I replied. “They dragged me out of it and I ended up here. Why would they bring me here, though? Back to Arnold?”

I tried to sound as confused as possible, hoping I could extract some of the mess in my own head and share it with them, get it out so I didn’t have to handle it alone anymore. Terrence didn’t reply. He clearly wasn’t in the business of answering questions he didn’t have to. He clearly had plenty he wanted to keep to himself right now, and I wondered just what was going on in this place that they all seemed so determined to make sure I didn’t find out about it. These must have been some seriously powerful people – I didn’t even want to think about the strength they had to their name, what they could do to me if they wanted to. I could be snuffed out like a candle in an instant and there would be nothing I could do about it.

I was sure that was why Terrence had been sent here, specifically to freak the hell out of me and try and get me to talk. Arnold was playing nice but he likely had a million questions, especially about where the cash in his wallet had gotten to. I shifted in my seat again. I wanted to convey vulnerability, but not nervousness – the last thing I needed was for these guys to think they had me on the ropes, when I knew I was anything but.

He asked me a couple more questions, pretty much just the same thing phrased differently to get a new answer out of me, but I kept playing as dumb as possible and hoped for the best. Eventually, he seemed to get tired of hitting me with questions he knew he wasn’t going to get any answer to.

I knew better than to hope I might be let out. They weren’t going to allow me to talk, not after they had spent all this time getting me there. And I was sure they understood I was hiding more from them, that there was plenty they could squeeze out of me if they just pressed hard enough.

“There is a room ready for you upstairs,” he told me. “The maids will show you the way. You’ll be staying with us for the next little while. For your safety, of course.”

He looked me in the eye as he said that, as though he was daring me to contradict him. He knew I would have been safer as far from this mess as I could be, but he was making sure I knew he wasn’t letting me go so easily. I didn’t know what to say. I nodded, smiled, tried to sound as sweet and sugared as I could as I responded to him.

“Thank you,” I told him. “It’ll be such a weight off my mind, knowing I don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here. I was so scared, you know, after I had to run away like that...I need to be able to sleep peacefully.”

“We’ll make sure you do,” he replied. “The maids will show you to your room. Let them know if you need anything, they will be happy to help.”

He was speaking formally, making sure not give anything away as he told me what was going to happen next. I nodded, brushing my hair back from my face carefully. I needed to look as sweet and as innocent as I could – these men needed to believe I was nothing but a girl caught up in bad luck beyond her understanding.

I rose and headed to the door, my palms tingling as I passed by an old antique salt-and-pepper shaker collection that would have been just so easy to palm. I needed to remind myself why I was here – and, despite how my first meeting with Arnold had gone, it wasn’t to make a quick buck.

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