The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [105]
I twist and unclick the locks. Cracking the door open, I peek outside.
“I’m sorry—did I wake you?” Gillian asks with a soft grin. As always, she can’t stand still. She stuffs her hands in her back pockets, then shifts her weight from one foot, to the other, then back again. Swaying like a folk singer.
“What’re you doing here?” I whisper.
“I don’t know… I just kept thinking about the remote… and the photos and… and there’s no way I was falling asleep, so I figured—” She cuts herself off and takes a fast glance down at my boxers. I blush; she laughs. “Listen, I know you have your own reasons, but I appreciate what you’re doing with my dad. He’d… he’d thank you for it.”
My face only gets redder.
“I’m serious,” she says.
“I know you are.”
Enjoying the moment, she adds, “When’s your birthday?”
“What?”
“What’re you, an Aries or Leo? Melville and Hitchcock were Leos, but…” She pauses, absorbing my reaction. “You’re an Aries, aren’t you?”
“How can you—? How’d you know?”
“C’mon, Stiffy, it’s spray-painted on your forehead—the perfection posture, the scolding dad tone when you talk to your brother, even the spotless white boxers…”
“These boxers are brand-new.”
“They definitely are,” she says, staring down at them. Once again, I blush and she laughs. “C’mon,” she adds. “Put on some clothes—I’ll let you buy me some cheap coffee.”
Over her shoulder, I check the empty street. Even at this hour, it’s not smart to be strolling in public. “How ’bout a raincheck?”
Slinking back, she looks like a hurt puppy.
“It doesn’t mean you have to go, though…” I offer.
She stops and quickly turns back. “So you want me to stay?”
It’s a tease and we both know it. Charlie would tell me to shut the door. But that would just leave me lying awake in the dark. “All I’m saying is, I have to be careful.”
“Oh, because of the… I didn’t even think…” She stumbles in the sweetest way possible. It’s one of those moments that no one could fake. “Of course I want you to be careful. In fact…” A playful smile lights her face.
“What?”
“Grab some sneakers,” she says, already beaming. “I’ve got an idea.”
“To go out? I don’t think that’s—”
“Trust me, handsome-pants, this is gonna be one you thank me for. No one’ll even know we’re there.”
She says something else, but I’m still munching on handsome. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t,” she says, suddenly serious. “Especially when we’re in it together.”
That’s the shove that puts me over the mountain. If she wanted to hurt us, Gallo and DeSanctis would’ve been here hours ago. Instead, we had a whole day of peace. From here on in, the longer she stays with us, the more she puts herself at risk. She doesn’t care. She wants the truth about her dad. So do we. I leave a quick note for my brother, then look back at him to make sure he’s still asleep.
“Don’t worry,” Gillian says. “He’ll never know you’re gone.”
* * * *
Racing down the dock, I have to hand it to her. In a town that prides itself on being seen, she’s found the one cool place where no one’s watching.
“Abandoned enough for you?” she asks as our shoes clunk along the wooden planks of the Miami Beach Marina. All around us, the docks are dead silent. Back on shore, there’s a security guard making his nightly rounds, but a friendly wave from Gillian keeps him at bay.
“You come out here often?” I ask.
“Wouldn’t you?” she replies as she hits the brakes.
I’m not sure what she means—that is, until she points down to the small, weather-scorched, white fishing boat that’s bobbing up and down against the dock. Barely big enough to seat six, it’s got frayed Miami Dolphins seat cushions and a windshield with a crooked crack down the center. With a flick of her foot, Gillian kicks her sandals down into the boat.
“This is yours?” I ask.
“Dad’s last gift,” she says proudly. “Even godless engineers still appreciate the majesty of catching a fish at sunset.”
As she undoes the ropes from the dock, I watch her thin arms swoop and glow gracefully in the moonlight. I hop in the boat without hesitating. She starts the engine and grabs