Payback, page 28
“So who won the bet, Sam or Grayson?”
“Geri, I think.”
He smiles. “Sorry I missed the intervention.”
I inch closer. “Does this mean you forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” He sighs. “I might have done the same thing in your place.”
I tilt my face up to look at him, and find warmth in his dark eyes. I reach to his jaw, my fingers grazing his smooth skin, and with a small grin he leans closer, his lips a breath away from mine.
“I knew it,” Christopher says, standing in the hallway.
Caleb’s forehead falls against mine as his body goes slack. “Get out of here, creeper.”
Christopher giggles and disappears back into the kitchen, but though I can’t see him, I’m pretty sure either he or Jonathan is spying.
“I have something for you,” I say.
Worry scrunches his brows. “I didn’t bring … I mean, I didn’t know you’d be here…”
I shake my head. “I know.”
I let go of his hand to open my bag and pull out the thin notebook. Excitement has me bouncing on the balls of my feet. I really hope he doesn’t think this is stupid.
He takes the notebook, opening the front page, and he beams.
“It’s graphing paper,” he says.
“For designing buildings.” A man at a shop in Uptown told me it was what all the pros used. I gauge Caleb’s reaction by the brightness of his eyes, and soon I’m giggling like Christopher.
Caleb turns the page to find a numbered list of structures, scratched in my terrible handwriting.
“It’s all my favorite buildings. The ones that remind me of you.” I reach over him to turn the page. “Here are the ones we’ve seen together in the city.”
“The Times Building,” he says. “That’s my favorite.”
“I know.” I turn the page. “This is a list of the best in the country. The Peabody Library in Baltimore is on there. What if we go see the rest one day? I left spaces so you can sketch them if you want.”
He looks up at me, a short laugh bursting from him. “I would love that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. This is incredible. You’re incredible.”
His fingers run over the pages, and when he smiles at me, the world slows and slips away.
“Thank you,” he says.
I am shining brighter than the sun.
Closing the book, he takes my hand. “Come on. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
I follow him into the tiny shotgun kitchen, where the counters are filled with different kinds of food. Everything from pizza to a potato bar to small, gummy, bean-bag-looking things that Jonathan is popping into his mouth like candy.
“Mochi,” he tells me, mouth full. “Have to eat them before Christopher takes over.”
Christopher is currently reaching toward the box, while Jonathan, one hand on his little brother’s head, straight-arms him back.
But I don’t answer, because in the corner, Maiko is feeding soup to a man in a fancy wheelchair.
Caleb’s father.
My heels dig into the worn linoleum. I didn’t know he’d be here. But of course he is. This is Christmas Eve, maybe his first night home with his family.
I’m intruding.
Caleb pauses and glances back at me. I can’t leave now, and I don’t want him to think I’d be going because I didn’t want to meet his father.
I do. I really do.
My worries fall silent as Caleb’s dad lifts a quivering, emaciated hand an inch off the armrest of the chair and beckons me forward.
“He can’t say much yet,” Caleb warns me. “And we can’t keep him up too late. Mom rented the car out front so we can bring him back to the rehab facility before eight.”
I remember how he was the last time I saw him, tubes sticking out of his nose and mouth, his body completely motionless. I can’t believe he’s actually sitting upright, looking at me.
I step forward.
“Dad, this is Brynn, my girlfriend.” He glances at me, as if to make sure this is all right.
It’s more than all right. It’s perfect.
“Hi, Mr. Matsuki.” I take his hand carefully, feeling like I’m holding a baby bird. He doesn’t look great, if I’m being honest. His skin is pale, and it hangs from his cheekbones and forearms. His brown eyes look too big for his thin face.
But they’re Caleb’s eyes, and the tilt of his mouth is Caleb’s too.
Mr. Matsuki’s hand barely squeezes mine. I take a foldout chair next to him, and Christopher leans against my side, the way kids do before they develop any notion of personal space.
“I’m glad to meet you,” I say. “Caleb’s told me a lot about you.”
“Dad, look at this.” Caleb opens the book and shows him the graphing paper. There’s an anxious look in his eyes as he waits for his father’s reaction—for recognition, I realize a moment later. No one is sure how Mr. Matsuki will recover, or how much he remembers from before his accident.
But Caleb’s dad nods, a small move that grows bigger until his hand, still in mine, is shaking. Then his lips part, and he laughs.
Or croaks.
I think it’s a laugh.
“Oh my.” Tears fill Maiko’s eyes as she sets the broth on the counter.
Caleb puts the book in his quilt-covered lap, and his father releases my hand to run his fingers over the smooth pages.
“He remembers,” Caleb says, and then he makes a sound halfway between a choke and a sob, then starts to laugh.
Soon, we’re all laughing. Maiko’s hugging her husband, and Christopher’s half lying on his lap, and Caleb’s got his arm around Jonathan’s lanky shoulders. Tears have made both of their eyes glassy, though Jonathan is quick to blink his away.
Thank you, Caleb mouths to me.
I feel like I’ve won a marathon, or rescued hostages, or discovered the cure to some rare disease. I think of the photo Mom gave me of my father, holding me in his arms right after I was born. Sam making flow charts for where he and Charlotte will go. Grayson carrying Henry from the fire. I think of Moore, telling me only a coward regrets loving the right person, and how I will never regret one moment with Caleb, because he’s unlocked a joy inside me not even Dr. O can stamp out.
Something shifts inside me then. The last piece of a puzzle set in place. A key inside a lock that finally turns.
I stand up like a shot, drawing every eye in my direction.
“Um,” I say. “I need to get going. I’m sorry. It was so nice meeting you, Mr. Matsuki.”
His eyes smile.
Caleb’s brows arch in curiosity.
“Okay,” says Maiko. “Do you want to take some mochi?”
“Yes, please.” I meet Caleb’s eyes and tilt my head toward the hallway. He follows me there—it kills me a little to drag him away from this moment.
“I understand if you can’t leave,” I say. “I don’t want to leave either, but—”
Caleb presses a finger to my lips. “Where are we going?”
I grin. “Back to school.”
CHAPTER 27
An hour later, Caleb and I huddle together in the cold beside Barry Buddha in Vale Hall’s garden. Our breath makes clouds, and my hands, even wrapped in his and shoved into the pockets of his coat, are numb. I long for the heater from the rental car we drove from the rehab facility after dropping off his dad, but we had to park it down the road and walk so we didn’t alert anyone to our presence.
We did not go into school, but around it, along the perimeter fence.
“Henry said your mom’s doing well. He told her you had a romantic emergency,” says Caleb. They talked briefly in the car on the way over.
“He’s right,” I say.
Caleb gives me an incredulous look. “Pretty sure that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Brynn.”
I elbow him in the side, but freeze as the icy grass crackles beneath falling footsteps around the hedge. A moment later, a tall man in a long wool coat appears, his expression, as always, set to dead serious.
“Oh, good,” Moore says as Caleb and I wrench apart. “This again.”
“Thought you might like to take a field trip,” I say. “Raven style.”
Moore sighs heavily. “What does that mean?”
I move closer, keeping my voice low. “There’s something we have to show you, but it’s in Dr. O’s house.”
Moore turns. “I’m leaving.”
“You’ll want to see this,” I say. “I promise.”
“But we need to get rid of Belk for a little while. He’s there keeping guard.” Caleb stamps his feet against the cold.
“What do they have in there?” Moore’s curiosity leaks through, tinged with concern. He’s known something’s been up with Belk.
“More like who,” I say.
Moore turns quickly, his jaw set. “Renee Gibson?”
I flinch, thinking of how Dr. O got to her. Wherever she is, I hope she’s okay.
“The power meter at Dr. O’s house is probably outside by the garage,” Caleb explains before I can answer. “If I can break that, and make it look like a fallen branch did the damage, it can sever the line. When the power goes out, Belk will check the circuit breaker first, but once he figures out that won’t work, he’ll walk the perimeter of the house. It should give us enough time—”
Moore pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses a few buttons.
“We’re running low on supplies in the girls’ hall. I need to run to the pharmacy before they mutiny. I’m taking some of the kids with me. Need you to come keep an eye on the rest of them.” A pause, then, “Yes. Good.”
He hangs up.
“Or we could do it your way,” says Caleb.
“We’ve got twenty minutes.” Moore’s already striding deeper into the garden, down a path I’ve never been. It circles the pond, and then cuts straight into the back hedge. For a moment, I think he’s about to run into the brush—it’s dark, and it’s possible he’s lost his way—but a sharp turn reveals that the high hedge walls are staggered, and a path cuts out the back.
On the other side, the woods stretch out before us, stark and eerie, blackened by the heavy night. None of us chance turning on a phone for light, and as we keep to the narrow trail, brittle branches reach out to snag my shins and arms.
Soon, Dr. O’s house comes into view, the outside lights dark, and only one window on the top floor lit.
“There,” says Caleb, pointing to a bobbing flashlight moving along the back privacy fence. Squinting, I make out Belk’s thick form hurrying toward Vale Hall.
“Twenty minutes.” I hope Susan’s here.
I hope it’s enough time to get her out without Belk catching on.
Moore strides across the patch of snowy lawn to the back porch. Caleb and I jog after him, searching for any watching eyes or security cameras. At the double glass doors, Moore keys a security code into a small plastic box, and a light at the bottom turns from red to green.
“That’s handy,” mutters Caleb.
“I’m head of security,” Moore reminds us as he opens the door.
The inside of the house is dark and quiet.
Nerves buzz in my ears.
“Well?” says Moore. I jump at the volume of his voice. He’s not even trying to be covert.
It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dark. We’ve entered a kitchen. The shiny counters are lit by the moonlight outside, but look to be the same dark marble as in the main house. There’s an island in the center topped by a basket of fresh fruit. A small kitchen table with barstools sits before two couches, situated around a fireplace.
No one is here.
“The light was on upstairs,” I say.
We scuff the snow off our shoes on the mat as Moore closes the door behind us.
“Stairs are by the front door,” he says.
We hurry past the living room, down a hall with a bathroom. I bump into a basket on the floor with two umbrellas inside, but Caleb snags the handle before it tips.
We climb the carpeted stairs, Moore on our heels.
The hall curves around to the top of the steps, four closed doors stretching to the front of the house. The last door is framed by a thin line of light, and locked by a sliding bar from the outside. With a nod, we hurry toward it, but my hand falters on the doorknob. What if Susan isn’t here? What if behind this door is something we do not want to see?
What if Dr. O never went to the party with the mayor, and this is his room?
I am moved aside by Moore, who unlocks the bolt, shoves open the door, and comes face-to-face with Susan Griffin.
My gaze darts from Susan’s face, paling in shock, to the metal spoon extended before her like a shank. It falls from her hand and bounces silently on the carpeted floor beside her bare feet. She’s wearing the same threadbare sweater and loose jeans I saw her in at the cabin.
Moore jerks back in surprise, bumping into Caleb. He grips the doorjamb for support, as if he might fall over.
“Hugh,” she whispers. Both hands go to the key on the chain around her neck, gripping it like a lifeline.
The right person unlocks the best and worst in you.
“Susan,” Moore breathes. “How is … How did you…”
When she says nothing, I move past him into the room. The decor is sparse. A bed with no blankets or sheets. No pictures on the wall. Atop a dresser sits a tray of untouched food—Christmas ham.
Susan does a double take of my face, then braces for the worst. “Brynn.”
I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m not really a rat.”
“Okay,” she says slowly.
“Will someone please tell me what is going on,” says Moore.
“She’s been living in a cabin outside of town,” Caleb tells him. “Grayson and his dad hid her there after the accident.”
Moore turns sharply to Caleb. “Grayson?”
“Turns out he didn’t drive her off the road,” I say.
“Then who—”
“My brother,” says Susan.
Moore’s chin drops as he absorbs this information. His pain leeches across the gaps between us all. Confusion. Fury. Grief.
Love.
I didn’t realize she was the one he lost until I was at Caleb’s, but the signs had been there the whole time. The woman he shouldn’t have been with. His promise to her to protect the students.
The way he didn’t know who Belk was guarding, which made me realize that Dr. O didn’t tell him that she’d been found.
“I thought you were dead,” Moore whispers.
It is like watching a boat crash against dry land. He is breaking, and I don’t know how to stop it.
Tears fill Susan’s eyes. “I know.”
“We don’t have very long,” says Caleb.
Moore nods curtly. “Right. We’re leaving.”
“We can’t.” Susan’s hands drop to her waist. “I’ve been assured there will be consequences for the students if I do.”
Another threat.
“I can handle the students,” Moore says, pushing into the room. The muscles beside his neck are bulging. His anger is a physical force, filling the room. “I’m not leaving you here.”
“Hugh.” She takes a step closer, unsteady without her crutch. I don’t see it in the room. Belk or Dr. O must have taken it from her.
Moore freezes, and stares at her leg with another clench of his jaw.
“Okay,” he says, as if this is the only word stopping him from tearing down the walls. “You need help. That’s fine. I’ll carry you.”
“Wait. I have an idea,” I say.
“Me, too,” says Moore. “I’m going to kill him.”
I shiver at the cold, lethal bite of his tone.
“You can’t,” I tell him. “People will look for Dr. O, right? That’s what you said, Susan. He’s in the public eye now.”
Her eyes flick to me, and narrow. “That’s right.”
“You said the best way to beat him was to get him to step down. To resign.”
“Where are you going with this?” she asks.
“We need to hurry.” Caleb passes me a look, then disappears down the hall to see if he can spot Belk returning.
“The first thing Moore taught me about conning was to figure out what someone wants,” I say. “What does your brother want?”
“Get to the point,” growls Moore.
“Power,” I say, jabbing the air with one finger. “And the senator job is the best way to get it, but it’s also the most public. People are looking at him now, the way they used to look at his father.”
Susan limps to the bed and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. Moore watches her like a hawk. He doesn’t come closer, as if he’s afraid to step inside her bubble.
“Dr. O hated your dad, but he didn’t kill him. He destroyed him. He took away the thing that mattered most by blackmailing him with the truth about his mother’s death. He took your father’s power. That’s how we take Dr. O down.”
“Five minutes!” shouts Caleb from down the hall.
“Explain,” says Susan quickly.
“I have a plan,” I say. “But it means you’ll need to stay here for a few more days.”
“No,” says Moore, hands slicing the air. “That’s not happening.”
Susan holds a hand out to quiet him, and he groans in frustration.
“We’re listening,” she says.
As fast as I can, I tell them my plan for the party after Dr. O’s been sworn in, one week from today. As I talk, their expressions grow grave, but I don’t let up. I made the mistake of thinking I could do this alone before. I won’t do that again.
“We cut off the legs he stands on,” I say. “The people he trusts. His money. And his secrets.”
Silence stretches between us, and I wait with bated breath, feeling each passing second flick against my raw nerves.
“When this is done, you leave my brother to me,” says Susan.
Moore’s gaze aligns with hers and holds steady.
Slowly, he nods.
“Deal,” I say.
Caleb appears in the doorway. “We’ve got to go. I think I see a flashlight up at the house.”
