The Thieves of Darkness (15 page)

“I told you to stay in London,” KC said.

“Are you kidding? Don’t change the subject. You almost died.”

“But I didn’t.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s not your concern.”

“You’re not my mother, KC.”

Cindy’s words cut her to the bone.

Cindy walked over to her luggage, which sat by the stairs and
opened the large Louis Vuitton suitcase. She pulled out a cardboard tube, walked back to KC, and laid it on the table. In a ceremonious fashion, she took a seat. “I need to ask you a question and I need you to tell me the truth.”

KC stared at her younger sister. She was no longer the child that she had protected, that she had raised. She was a woman on equal ground. So KC relented. “Fair enough.”

Cindy opened the tube and withdrew the painting, carefully rolling it out on the table. KC tried to hide her emotions as she looked at the familiar piece of art, hoping her thundering heart wasn’t audible.

“You gave me this when we were kids, right after Mom died, said it was to remind me that we will always have each other, that no matter what happens, we’ll always be sisters.” She paused. “Where did you get it?”

KC stared at the painting, the painting that had hung above her sister’s bed. The Monet of the two girls holding hands. And her heart fell. “You don’t understand—”

“I do understand,” Cindy said as she looked upon KC with condemning eyes.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Tell me you didn’t steal it. Look me in the eye and tell me.”

KC just stared at her.

“Do you think I’m stupid? When are you going to stop treating me like some sheltered child? You’re my sister, not my mother.” Cindy turned away, wiping tears from her eyes, gathering her wits. She finally turned back. “And by the way, I’ve known that was a Monet since I was fifteen.”

KC looked at her sister. The moment that she had long dreaded had arrived. She could no longer avoid it, she could no longer hide behind fictitious tales and false achievements. She couldn’t run from the truth and had only one option.

KC took a deep breath, sat down, and told Cindy. She told her everything. Everything she had stolen, everything she had given up to make a life for her sister. She told her about the what and the where, she told
her how she and Simon ended up in prison, she bared her soul to her sister in hopes that she would understand the sacrifices she had made throughout her life so Cindy could have a future.

Cindy sat there in shock, the shame evident on her face, refusing to look KC in the eye. It was several minutes as she absorbed what her sister had done. “And why are you here now?”

KC couldn’t speak.

“To steal something?” Cindy was getting angry. She glared at KC. “You and your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“You giggled with him, KC. You’ve never giggled in your life.”

“No. He’s leaving here tomorrow morning as soon as his plane clears maintenance.”

“So,
you
are going to steal something. Tell me what it is.”

“Cindy—”

“Our whole life is a lie,” Cindy screamed. “You told me that you busted your ass like Mom, you told me you worked two, three jobs to raise me. I suppose the whole consulting thing is bullshit, too. What else have you lied about? What about our mother and father? Is their history all a convenient tale to make you look like the self-sacrificing sister?”

“You know what happened to Mom. And Dad, you were there when he was buried. He was as bad as they come; he deserved nothing less than what he got.”

“How can you judge him, when you’re just as bad?” Cindy yelled back.

“Cindy, he killed people. He abandoned us. He lived his life for himself. Are you telling me you have more empathy for someone you never even met than for me? I did what I did for you.”

“Don’t lay that guilt trip on me.”

“It’s not a guilt trip.” KC’s voice was thick with pleading emotion. “It’s the facts.”

“How can I believe anything you say?”

And as KC looked at her younger sister she knew her to be right. She
had lied to her their whole lives. She was a criminal just as her father had been and now had lost the trust of the only person who loved her.

“Let’s get on a plane tonight, go back to London,” Cindy finally said, offering an olive branch.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Say it. You’re living a lie. Creating some convenient piece of fiction to live behind, all in an effort to forget what you truly are. You’re nothing but a criminal.”

“I have to steal a document from a museum,” KC shouted back, regretting the words before they even left her lips. She had never verbalized what she did in such a way, and it filled her with shame.

It was Cindy’s turn to be stunned; she had never thought she would ever hear her sister say anything like that. “Why? You don’t need to support me anymore. Let me help, let me support you for a change. KC, there are plenty of legal ways to make money.”

“It’s not for money.”

“Everything is for money one way or another. It’s what brings power, it’s what brings love, it’s what keeps us alive. It’s all about money, KC, it’s just some people don’t get it.”

KC paused, gathering her wits. “With all the things I tried to teach you, how can you think that?”

“Don’t you even dare talk to me about morals or values.” Cindy slid her chair back and stood, looking down at her sister. “KC, you will get caught. You’ve tasted jail once already; don’t tell me you like it? You’ve already been sentenced to die. I don’t imagine you’ll escape the reaper a second time.”

“It’s so much more complicated than you think.”

“It’s not. If you need it so bad, get someone else. Get Simon to do it, he seems to be your partner. He was in prison with you. I’m sure he has the skills.”

“Absolutely not.” KC picked up her cell phone. “It’s time for you to go back to London.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Stop acting like you gave birth to me. I make my own decisions. I made my life. I’ve got the real job and what are you? You’re nothing more than a thief.”

The rage built in KC’s eyes. It was a slow, pent-up resentment for giving up her life at the age of fifteen, for forgoing her teenage years, sacrificing everything for her sister. And it finally crested as she burst out of her chair. “Maybe I should have let them take you when you were a kid, stick you in a home. Gone off and had my own life instead of giving it up for you.” KC stomped across the room, ripped open the door to find Simon standing there, and stormed right past him.

“You all right?” Simon called out as he watched KC disappear down the hotel hallway and around the corner.

He turned and saw Cindy standing there.

“You guys all right?” Simon asked.

Cindy said nothing.

“I just need to grab my bag,” Simon said as he pointed to the brown satchel on the table. “You sure you’re all right?”

But Cindy said nothing, ignoring Simon, not even looking at him. She walked up the stairs to her bedroom and slammed the door.

Busch stood on the balcony of the Oriental Suite of the Four Seasons, staring out over the Sea of Marmara and the Princess Islands. As he turned and looked across the Bosporus to the far shore, he realized he was standing in the only city in the world that sat on two continents, at a juncture of worlds that came together in a city with a culturally amalgamated history unlike that of any other place in either ancient or modern times. This was a world that could not be farther from his hometown of Byram Hills. He was in a city that had been the capital of the world long before Europeans had discovered his little neck of the woods.

Michael walked down a flight of mahogany stairs, showered and dressed in blue jeans and an Armani blazer. “Some view, huh?”

“It’s amazing the places I go to save your ass.”

“The plane will be ready at 6:00
A.M.
, unless you feel like hanging around.”

“Jeannie is already pissed. I’m seeing the world without her, and if I see much more of it, you’re going to end up with a permanent roommate.”

Michael smiled. He had a tendency to forget how easy it was to travel when you’re not tethered to the world, to a family, to the ones you love. Paul had never once hesitated in helping Michael, no matter how long
it took or how far away from his wife and kids it carried him. He was the truest of friends.

Since his wife died, Michael had forgotten what it was like to live your life for others, to put aside your own wants and needs every single day for the ones you love. He envied Paul and the life he had, hoping that one day he, too, would have a tether to hold him back.

There was a quiet knock at the door, taking Michael by surprise. Michael looked at his watch, walked across the large living room, and opened the door.

KC walked in and right past Michael without a word. She walked to the window and stared out at the water.

Busch, still standing on the balcony, turned and saw her distress. Exchanging glances with Michael, he walked in off the terrace and headed up the stairs. “I need to shower to make this stinky body perfect again,” Busch said before disappearing into the bedroom.

Michael looked at KC framed in the window. “Are you okay?”

KC continued to stare out at the water, the moment dragging on. “Do you have room on the plane?”

“Of course,” Michael said slowly, hearing the stress in her voice.

“I’m done,” KC said, more to herself than to him.

Michael approached her slowly from behind. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “What happened?”

“She knows.” KC was lost in her own world. “She knows everything.”

Michael knew she meant only one person, the only family she had. And Michael knew too well how KC felt, the shame, the anger when those you love find out you’re a criminal. “I’m sorry.”

“All these years, I’ve lied … lived behind illusions, fooling myself that what I was doing wasn’t harming anyone.”

They both stood there in silence, watching the boats with their wide open sails make their way down the Bosporus to the Sea of Marmara.

“Sometimes in protecting the ones we love, we hurt them. We don’t mean to but it happens nonetheless. In time, though…” Michael paused. “It’s a lot for her to process. She’ll come around.”

“You didn’t see her eyes. It was disappointment. It was shame. She compared me to my father.”

As KC finally turned around, Michael could see her pain.

“My father was without a soul. He robbed people, killed people without thought. He was a criminal, Michael, he was as bad as they come.”

“Maybe, KC,” Michael said. “But that’s not you.”

“No, Michael. That is me. And what hurts the most, what’s ripping my heart in two is Cindy’s right, I’m just like him.”

Michael placed his hand on KC’s shoulder and looked deep into her eyes. “No, KC. She’s not right. You’re not like your father. You raised your sister. You did what you did to care for her. She hasn’t put the pieces together yet but she wouldn’t be where she is in life if you hadn’t been there for her. You’re not a killer, you’re not your father.”

“Michael, I did it to raise her. I stole things to support her. I can justify that. But the last five years … I never stopped. I was doing it for me. Even when I helped Simon, I always thought I was on some crusade, a way to prove that I was doing good by doing bad.”

Michael continued to look at her, his compassion never wavering, but he knew what she meant. She had chosen to steal just as he had, and no matter how careful you were, it always caught up with you.

“I can’t do it anymore.”

“Good for you.”

“I have to tell Simon. He’s going to be upset.”

“No, he won’t. Simon’s a big boy.”

KC turned back and stared out at the passing boats. “Michael, what am I going to do?”

Michael could hear her heart breaking over the shame she had caused her sister. She was lost, knowing that the life, the only life, she had known for fifteen years was at an end. “You need to talk to her.”

“I can’t,” she said, as if trying to convince herself.

“Yes, you can. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she shot back, her defenses up, hoping to escape the inevitable.

“Yeah,” Michael said softly, “you do. I’ll get her.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Michael walked out of the suite and down the hall to the Occidental Suite. KC came running behind him, pissed. “Do me a favor, stay out of this.”

Michael looked at her. “Now you want me to stay out of it? After coming to me and unloading your baggage, you want me to shut up?” Michael knocked on the door in defiance.

KC stared, her eyes answering in the affirmative, telling him to leave.

“Not happening.” Michael shook his head. “You don’t give up the ones you love that easy. You walk through that door right now and start talking to her. Then, maybe, I’ll leave.”

Michael knocked again.

KC checked her pockets. “I don’t have my key.”

“Listen, she’s going to be upset. Nothing can change that.”

“I don’t have my key.” KC was frustrated, and her hands shook as she searched her pockets. “I walked out in a huff before.”

“The two of you are going to have to talk this out,” Michael said.

“And what gives you the right to start giving me advice?” KC snapped at Michael.

“Because,” Michael said calmly, understanding her frustration, “I’ve been there.” Michael knocked again. “When we hide ourselves from the people we love, it’s a sign of distrust. She’s your sister. She’ll work through it.”

KC stared at Michael a moment, then turned and glared at the door, raising her fist and pounding it. “Cindy, open the goddamn door.”

But there was no answer.

“Maybe—” Michael stopped. The world slowed as he and KC looked at each other and realized…

Michael raised his leg and kicked the door in.

A
S THE DOOR
exploded open, Michael saw it. All over the floor, staining the white marble tiles.

Blood, fresh, pooled and streaked across the floor as if painted on
with a mop. Michael ran into the other room, charged up the stairs, emerging moments later on the landing, looking at the empty suite. No one there.