Chapter Forty-Three
I answer the door and pay the deliveryman for my vegan lunch.
Most annoyingly so, I have been craving nothing but vegan food ever since I left Jaxon. I’m not sure if it’s an unconscious attempt to feel close to him, but all of a sudden, vegan food is life.
As the delivery van drives off, I poke my head out to check if Monty, our homeless mate, is in his usual spot.
He is. Sitting cross-legged as he tears into a fast-food box.
I’m about to duck back inside when he shifts, and I glimpse something familiar on a sheet of newspaper under his right thigh.
“Hey.” I step out the door and walk over to him. “Can I have this page?”
He looks down to where I’m pointing, looks ups at me, and down to the paper again. Then pulls the paper from under his thigh and thrusts it at me. “Of course. Anything for you, English girl.”
“Thanks.” I grasp the newspaper and go back inside.
At my work station across from Melanie, I set my food bag aside and straighten out the page on the counter.
Priceless Eighteenth- Century Qianlong Dynasty Vase Recovered. Chinese Pay Double.
Below the headline is a photo of two middle-aged Chinese men with austere expressions holding the vase between them, no smiles for the camera. After skimming the whole article, I check the publication date, then set the newspaper down with a frown.
It was published the day after we returned from Spain.
While it’s possible that Jaxon got the vase to Yineris’s husband on the same day of our return, it’s impossible that Yineris’s husband was able to contact the Chinese, have the vase authenticated, and make sale arrangements—let alone have it all official and printed in the newspaper the next day.
Which means…
Jaxon didn’t steal the vase for Yineris’s husband. He got the vase for the Chinese. Who, according to the article, rewarded an “undisclosed amount” to the U.S. government—because, apparently it was the government who recovered it.
Not to mention the press release surrounding the vase took place at the White House.
Who the hell does Jaxon work for? It can’t possibly be the U.S. government. Would the government encourage stealing and other illegal tactics?
Hard to believe.
Though…it would explain the beefy guys in the Escalade that picked us up from the airport, and the mysterious Bentley that was waiting outside the flat. It would explain his enervation that evening, his being late, and his professional attire.
It’s possible…
But the more I think about it…
Nah. Jaxon is, too…Jaxon. I can’t picture him being a mule—or a thief—for the government.
“That sure was a big job.” Melanie’s voice tugs me from my reveries. “Collin got a whopping twelve-million-dollar paycheck from that, plus a half a mil bonus. Jo was still mad and stewing about it the evening I left.”
I blink, astonished at the dollar amount. “I had no idea.”
She looks at the newspaper with longing. And I know what’s coming.
In an attempt to escape, I hop off my chair, snatch up my food bag, and start to leave.
“Tim.”
Crap.
“Don’t, Mel.” I stop, but I don’t turn. “Just…don’t say it.”
“You know.”
I sadly turn to face her. “Of course, I know. You’re my best friend. Which is why I can’t let you finish that sentence.”
“But…Tim, it feels like that’s where I’m supposed be.” She takes off her glasses and rubs her eyes, then gives me a please-understand look. “I want to be there, Tim.”
I’m stabbed. I’m stabbed right in the chest. “Not here? Not with me?”
“Why are you making it seem like I’m leaving you?” she says, looking frustrated. “Nothing is going to change. I’ll still be here with you. But I’ll also be there with them.”
I’m already wagging my head. “Except, everything will change, won’t it? I’ll be sharing you with them. And, slowly but surely, they will become your family.”
I’m fighting tears now
“Tim…” she trails off, her voice miserable.
I start to leave again, but when I’m almost out of the room, I pause and look back at her. “We stole from him. You really think he’ll put you on his team after that?”
She nods. “I do.”
“How?” I demand, still stinging with hurt that she would choose him and not me.
She bites her lips, hesitant. “By giving him something worth more than the box.”
When I don’t say anything, she takes a breath and explains, “I was thinking I could give him the key to the box. It’s the perfect buy in. The box is no use to him without the key. Sure, Markus will have the box now, but if Jaxon is as legendary as everyone says he is, he’ll have no problem getting it back, right?”
Melanie doesn’t have the key, I do.
She has no idea where it’s hidden, I do.
So, what she’s really asking is if I could so generously give her the key so she can buy her way into a new family—because we are best friends, and best friends help each other.
I hold the power here. I can say no, out of spite. I can make her stay with me, because without something as important as the key, Jaxon will never accept her into the fold.
But I’m not selfish or evilly manipulative enough to do that.
Right. I’m not Jaxon.
I’ll give it to her. As parting gift. Because I might resent her at the moment, but I do love her and only want the best for her.
I feel completely detached when I say, “We meet Markus first. Give him the box. Then I’ll give you the key.”
I don’t wait for her response. I used to allow her to take the lead in our dealings, but since she’s leaving to be led by someone else, screw that. Forget her.
I’m my own damn leader.