“My friends are good people. Mostly theater people. They would never rob anyone, let alone you,” I say. “And the people with them were strangers from out of town. It’s not—none of them could’ve been involved in anything.”
“So there’s no risk in giving us their names.”
I shrug and rattle off a list of people. “Four dancers, three male, one female. An actress. A couple that does set design and their in-laws who were in town. Three singers from out of town who’d come to audition for our next production and their respective boyfriends. My neighbor, Specs, and his wife. They’re high school teachers. Plus Specs’ brother and his boyfriend. I think they live in Boston. And then Rachel.”
“Was Rachel’s fiancé there?” Trick asks.
I shake my head, wondering how much C Crue knows about her engagement.
“So Rachel came alone?” Trick asks. “We hear Frank usually sends a bodyguard or two with her these days.”
“She sometimes goes out without anyone. That night, she did.”
“So she sneaks out?” Trick asks.
I don’t want to answer him, so I don’t. This isn’t about Rachel, and the last thing I want to do is give anyone information that could be passed on as gossip and get back to Frank.
“You don’t think five-foot-three Rachel who weighs a hundred and five pounds was involved in robbing you, do you? And that no one would’ve recognized her when, because of the Instagram account, she’s the most famous person in the city? What would her role have been? The person who climbs through a vent in the ceiling?”
“A vent in the ceiling? How did you know that’s how they got in?” Trick asks.
I flush. “I didn’t! I don’t!”
The three men exchange looks.
“C said he’d been robbed. I just assumed he meant someone had broken into his office.”
“Which office?”
I stare at them. “I don’t know,” I say, realizing I’ve never heard anyone say that they know where C Crue has its business offices. “I guess you work from home?” I ask, trying to work things out. “But I can’t imagine someone breaking in here.”
“That would be something,” Trick says lightly. “Maybe take a swim in the pool. Borrow a towel from Anvil’s cinder block apartment. One of his towels would be like a blanket for someone Rachel’s size, assuming she was in on it, with the vent-crawling.” Trick’s deadpan joking should put me at ease, but it doesn’t, because there’s a dangerous edge to him. I can see that now.
Anvil returns to the pool table, racking the balls for another game.
“I’ll break,” Trick says, turning away from me to play.
Several moments pass. “What’s going on?” I whisper.
“You gave us the information we wanted. Come with me,” he says.
I follow him. “No one broke into an office or a house, did they? Trick just said that to see what else I’d say? It was some other kind of robbery?”
He nods.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
“No. I like listening to you spin your theories.”
I exhale, feeling lighter and more relieved than I’ve been since I saw that mark on my door. He knows I have no idea how that money was taken or how it got into my apartment.
He starts up the stairs. I pause at the bottom.
“What are we doing now?” I say.
“We’re gonna get to know each other better.”
It’s not a good idea. I press a finger against my lips for a moment. “Do I have a choice about that?” I ask, not completely sure what I want the answer to be. He is looking extremely gorgeous to me now that I know he’s not planning to kill me or turn me over to his partners to be tortured. But there’s still his war with Frank. I can’t ever be seen as siding with C Crue on anything, and if I’m not here so he can keep interrogating me, then why am I here now?
