“There she is,” Tommy said, noticing Spencer for the first time since we’d joined the group. He waved her over. She left my side, flashing an apologetic grin, and joined her father at the center of the room. “Dave, you remember my daughter, Spencer, don’t you?” This he said to the orange guy who’d taken the piss out of Richards a minute before.
“Sure!” Dave said, giving Spencer a lecherous smile that Tommy didn’t seem to catch. Or, at least, I assumed he didn’t since he didn’t deck the guy on the spot. “You still in the business program at Balanova?”
Spencer nodded, leaning away from him a little.
“She’s in her second year,” Tommy said with a proud smile. “And at the top of her class. Well on her way to the MBA program at the Wharton School.”
Spencer looked at me for help, and I gave her an encouraging smile. When she turned back to the conversation, I decided that this was my chance to get back into Tommy’s office. I skirted the crowd that had gathered to regale Spencer with tales of their days at the University of Pennsylvania and found my way back into the entry hall of the house.
I was relieved to find the hall on the other side of the stairs deserted, although the light from under the bathroom door told me it might not stay that way for long. I found the second door to the right and slipped inside, pulling it closed beside me. I didn’t have time to fumble around in the dark, so I took the risk of flipping the light switch. The fixture overhead filled the room with soft light, and I crossed to the desk and opened the drawer I knew contained a stack of notepads. I flipped open the cover of the pad on top and found some hastily scrawled notes and a list of names and phone numbers. Nothing that looked like a combination. I turned a few pages to find much of the same and moved on to the next book. This one had a list of what I guessed were company names, some marked with a star, others with a question mark, some crossed out with a stroke of Tommy’s pen. Potential investments, maybe, but nothing that could help me get into the safe behind the ugly seascape. The rest of the notebooks were empty, and I slammed the drawer in frustration.
The sound of feet moving down the hall drew my attention, and I crouched behind Tommy’s desk. I waited for the doorknob to turn, debating whether I should hide myself better or just make up a reason for being in the office, but the feet passed by without stopping. I blew out the breath I’d been holding and straightened up to my full height again. I tried the drawer with hanging files next. The tabs at the top told me these were mostly client files, but several folders were unmarked. I opened one, pulled out a handful of receipts, and paged through them. Tommy had shelled out several thousand dollars for this cocktail party, it seemed. The catering company alone had cost him almost five grand for food and the wait staff. Another five for the alcohol and bar service. Though, in this crowd, I was surprised it hadn’t been more. You could take the Traveler out of the Village, but give him a no- limit platinum card and he’d still throw a damn good party.
I stuffed the receipts back into their file and flipped to the last folder at the back of the drawer. There was one sheet of paper inside, and my sore cheeks had to endure another broad smile when I read what was written across the top in block print: PASSWORDS. A string of numbers and letters followed. Some were labeled, “electric, water, gas, bank, bank2, bank3,” and it occurred to me this sheet of paper might come in very handy if Pop decided he wanted his five hundred Gs back after all. Near the bottom, a handful of four- and six-digit codes were written, and I moved to the safe, intent on trying each one.
I punched in the first code, and the display flashed. Same for the next two. Damn.
I moved on to the six-digit codes, and the safe gave an angry chirp when I hit the fifth number. Apparently, these last few codes were too long to be the right ones, which left me with one last option. I took a deep breath and punched it in. Flash.
“Fuck!” I smashed my hand against the keypad, eliciting another angry chirp.
“Those things can be a real pain in the ass to break into, huh?”
The scrap of paper fell from my hand as I swiveled around to see Tommy. I hadn’t heard him come in and honestly had no idea how long he’d been there watching me struggle with his safe. Oddly, he looked more amused than angry, which was far more unnerving.
“Yeah, I’d say you’re getting your money’s worth.” I tried sounding casual, like there was nothing at all weird about your girlfriend’s father catching you trying to get into his wall safe.
“I’m surprised you didn’t try Spencer’s birthday,” he said, still firmly rooted on his side of the room.
“I did. That was the first thing I tried when I was in here the other night.” Why bother lying now? I’d been caught. It was time to change tact. A Traveler’s greatest asset was an ability to think on his feet, right?
“Trust me. You could’ve had free reign of this office for a week, and you probably still wouldn’t have guessed the combination. Which is funny since it’s a number you’re pretty familiar with.”
I quirked an eyebrow, but Tommy didn’t seem to be in the mood to share more.
“So Michael finally sent someone to get his book back?”
It was strange hearing anyone other than Maggie calling Pop by his given name. “You did a pretty good job of hiding for the last twenty years, but it’s a little harder to stay under the radar when you buy a multimillion dollar house and stay there.”
“It still took him over a year,” Tommy said and crossed his thick arms over his chest in his default intimidating-businessman posture. It reminded me a little of my brother when he was working the strong, silent angle.
“I guess he had other priorities. It’s just a book after all.”
Tommy gave a loud, barking laugh. “I think we both know that’s bullshit, Shay.”
I was so distracted by thoughts of what the hell could be written in the damn book that Pop would go to all this trouble that it took me a second to realize he hadn’t used my fake name.
“You know who I am.” It wasn’t a question.
“A transfer student from Loyola?”
I’d worried Spencer’s disclosure during dinner had cast some suspicion my way, but there had to be something else, too. Not even “Saint Thomas” was that sharp. “Is that so out of the ordinary?”
“You have Maggie’s eyes,” he said.
I stiffened. “I imagine those eyes have been haunting you the last twenty years, considering you killed her husband and left her with two kids to raise all on her own.”
“Does telling yourself that help you sleep at night after what you’ve done to Spencer?”
My chest burned like I’d swallowed an ice cube. My mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Leave Spencer out of this,” I said, allowing far too much emotion to seep into my voice. I needed to focus on what was important, but that was difficult when Spencer became involved.
“What’s this? You almost sound like you care about her. Not that I don’t understand why. She’s really special, isn’t she? You do realize she’ll never forgive you when she finds out you used her to get to me. That everything you ever told her was a lie.”
Not everything. “Do you think she’ll forgive you?” I spat out once I found my voice again. “For
“That’s not how it happened, but even if it was, she’ll never find out about it—any of it. You can’t say the same thing, can you? Once you got what you came for, you were going to crawl back to that cesspool you call home, and she’d be left here wondering how she could’ve been stupid enough to trust you.”
“She’ll find out about you if I tell her,” I said, my panic making me desperate.
Tommy laughed again. “And why would she ever believe anything you say? You go ahead and tell her. It’ll just prove you’re every bit the con artist that you are.”
The stiffness in my shoulders disappeared, and they slumped like deflating balloons. “You’re going to tell her.”
“Of course I am. The first chance I get. Now get the hell out of my house.” Tommy finally budged from his spot by the door. He stood to the side and opened it so I could do as instructed.
“At least let me say goodbye, give her some excuse about why I have to leave.”
“Not a chance. She’ll know exactly why you left when I tell her why you came.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Are you leaving, or am I throwing you out? I don’t want to make a scene in front of all these people, but I will if I have to.”
