“Oh. Why didn’t you say so earlier?” I can hear the frown in his voice.
Because it wouldn’t be believable for me to be helpful to Dominic for no reason. And I don’t want him digging around, in case he finds the connection between me and Roy Wilks. It’s none of Dominic’s business, and I don’t want anybody to inform the little fawn—even by accident—of what I’m really up to. Grateful lures are eager to cooperate. When they know they’re being used, not so much.
It seems illogical, but people prefer to assert their will just to let everyone know they aren’t dead. That’s why they do stupid things that undermine their own self-interest, all in the name of making themselves heard. Everyone has an innate desire to be significant.
There are few things that can suppress that urge, but one is bone-deep gratitude. Even when Angelika’s grateful, she argues, however. About moving in with me. About accepting the clothes and shoes I bought for her so she can look the part when she starts her new job.
I’m not having Antoine ruin the delicate balance I’ve established. I really don’t want to have to hurt her to get to Roy Wilks. Nor do I want to redo my perfect plan to kill him.
“Anything else?” I say.
“No. That’s it. I’ll ask Elizabeth for a copy. I’m sure it will be fine.” Meaning: he won’t have to do another check of his own. He knows I’m very thorough, and doesn’t believe in duplicating work.
I, on the other hand, always verify everything. That’s what makes him good, and me extraordinary.
I hang up. Then, as I rub spices into a hunk of beef, I think about three possible scenarios for dealing with Roy Wilks. Lyosha made his wish when he was small, and I doubt he remembers.
But I promised I would make his birthday wish come true. And although I won’t be able to tell him, it will be enough that I know I did it.
I always keep my word.
Chapter Twenty
Angelika
By the time I’m done putting all the new clothes away, Tolyan’s pulling a pot roast and red potatoes out of the oven. The food smells amazing. Tchaikovsky, Mussorgsky and Stravinsky are already salivating.
“Should I set the table?” I say.
“That would be helpful. Thanks.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know you asked Monique to pack some exercise clothes, too,” I say.
“You can’t run in an Armani dress,” he says. “Or you could, but…”
“Yeah. Not the right use of the outfit.”
He brings the food from the oven to the table and cuts the meat with precision. Every slice is so even, it looks machine-cut. The Dobermans lick their chops. Stravinsky whines.
Tolyan serves me, then himself, then hands three thick pieces to his dogs. They gobble up the meat like they haven’t eaten in a century.
“By the way…” I say, after a bite of the juicy meat. “I want to chip in for food and utilities while I’m staying here.”
He washes down the meat with his usual vodka. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I insist. You’re already going above and beyond to help me.”
Do you know why he’s doing that? Courtney’s voice whispers in my head.
I shove it out of my mind.
Something in his gaze says he’s mildly amused. “Then you know I’m not doing it so you can help out with groceries and electricity.”
“Of course not. I just… I don’t want to impose, is all. I mean, more than I already am.”
A corner of his mouth quirks up. “You should’ve thought of that before telling me you were going to go to the police. As I recall, it was to report me for being in the vicinity of that man who tragically killed himself on Friday.”
I squirm. The chair cushion seems to be full of small needles all of a sudden. “I didn’t really mean that. I was desperate.”