Something flashes in Julian's eyes. Satisfaction? Amusement? "I'm glad to hear it. Your protective instincts are admirable, Raffi. You're so…devoted."
What the hell is that supposed to mean? "If you do anything to hurt him?—"
"Peace, Raffaello." He lifts his hands in a mocking gesture of surrender. "I'm only teasing. I would never hurt Darian—and anyway, he belongs to you."
Belongs to me. Like I'm some kind of master he's been given to, instead of a man responsible for keeping him alive. But then Julian goes on.
"Anyone with eyes can see it. Just as Leo belongs to me—and I to him." He leans in even closer with a smile. "I think it's important to have skin in the game. And now…you do."
"We should take photos," I say, to change the subject. "And where does that door come out?" I point at what looks like adead-end in front of us, but which I know from the previous passages must be another sliding door.
"Slow down, Raffaello. It's clear what killed him, so before he starts to become malodorous or stiffens up any further, weshouldmove the body. We need to check it over more thoroughly, anyway, and we can't do that in here."
"I don't want to move him until I've had a good look around," I say obstinately.
"Then look."
I squeeze past him and crouch down, but Julian's right. The light from my own phone doesn't help much since I can't get a good view of the whole body, and I can't turn him over to find any other wounds, either. He's too stiff, too heavy.
"What's this?" I shine my light at the ground as my foot kicks something.
"An old length of rope," Julian says impatiently. "He wasshot, Raffaello, not choked to death."
I turn my attention to the blank wall. "How does this open?" I turn to find Julian about an inch away from me, and I'm startled despite myself. "Jesus."
"Like this," he says, ignoring my jump, and reaching out to push a discreet lump on the wall. The panel slides open silently and I'm faced with…
Another wall. Only this one is wood, and as I run my hand over it, I find a couple of holes in it. "Look at this," I say, shining my light on them. "Do you think…"
Julian bends closer, and I try to move back a little, failing due to the close confines. "This is the back of the wardrobe in Chops Lollo's room," he tells me. "But it's practically immovable—weighs a ton. That's why Sandro had it put there, to block off the other side while we wait for renovations to seal it off for good. As for those holes…" He looks more closely at them. "They seem like natural knots in the wood to me; no splintering to indicate that they're bullet holes. Far too smooth." He steps aside again. "But feel free to check for yourself."
I run my fingertips over the holes and see at once what he means. These holes are smooth, not splintered.
And then I put my shoulder to the wardrobe and shove. Hard.
It doesn't move.
Julian watches me with an amused smile.
"Fuck," I grunt, giving it another try. Then, annoyed, I say, "You wanna help me here?"
Julian's more wiry than strong, but he gives it his all. With the two of us shoving, we sway it forward a little, but we're only going to topple it over if we keep going. "I'll go round and have a look from the other side later," I say. "And now…I guess we better move the body."
"I'll take this side," Julian says cheerfully. He bends down to link his arms through Chops', and I sidle around the body again and to grab the feet, trying to ignore the unnatural stiffness of him as we yank him free and lift. We start the trek back out of the passageway, Chops' body heavy and cumbersome between us.
More than once his bulk gets stuck, especially around the corners. Each time, Julian and I have to maneuver to get himunstuck. My shoulders burn, and my hands are numb from the weight.
When we finally dump the body just before the exit, since I want to make sure Darian is well away from here before we remove it completely, I'm panting hard. Julian straightens, brushing off his clothes, looking as unruffled as if he's just come from a board meeting, and uses the two sides of the passage to gracefully swing himself over the body so he can reach the entrance.
I look down one more time at Chops, the poor bastard, and I wipe my hands down my pants, trying to get some weird smudges off my fingers. He must have had some dirty shoes or something. And then I can't stand it anymore, can't stand being in these tight walls. I feel like I'm wriggling around in the skin of Redwood Manor itself, and I'm almost ashamed how relieved I am to stumble out through the mirror again and back into the room.
But the sight waiting for me in Russo's room quickly steals that relief.
Darian stands there with Leo at his side, their postures rigid. Darian's eyes are wide, face drained of color. He's trying to signal something to me silently. But before I can decipher it, they move aside to reveal Sandro Castellani, leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed.
I step away from the exit, glancing at Julian. He doesn't even bother to look at me, going over to Leo, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning up to murmur in his ear. Leo's expression hardens, but he pulls Julian close, dropping a kiss on his temple.
When I meet Darian's eyes, he jerks his head almost imperceptibly toward Sandro. Warning me. My heart kicks into a sprint.
