“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “I really want to get out of here, so if you could just…” She motions to the dress.
“Oh, right. Of course.” The designer rushes up to her and undoes her zipper. Once the dress is loosened, she directs my sister back to the dressing rooms.
“Well,” the designer says brightly. “That was the easiest sale I ever made.”
“You gotta love it when a customer is easy.” I reach in my purse to pay her and she waves me off.
“Oh, your father already called and took care of it. I just need you to sign off on some paperwork and you’ll be all set.”
I nod, and she leaves again, only to return a few seconds later with a clipboard holding a printed out paper detailing everything out. I don’t even look at it before signing my name on the bottom line.
“Okay,” she says. “Tell your sister to just leave the dress in the dressing room, and we’ll get it boxed up and ready for you before you go.”
“Thanks.”
And with that, I sit down and wait for Annie. These past few weeks have been so strange. I’ve been staying with my sister almost every evening to keep her company, but she just seems to be getting more and more down. I don’t know what I can do to help her.
Last week, we were watchingThelma and Louisetogether and I had a thought that if she wanted to, we could probably just run. I don’t know how far we would get. Rumor has it that Dad’s reach goes as far as at least three of the five boroughs in New York and part of Jersey, and who knows how far the Mechnikovs’ reach goes.
I didn’t say anything aloud, but I did wonder if we could get as far as the desert out west like Thelma and Louise did. Honestly, I’d love to be able to drive through those beautiful mountain ranges in a convertible with my sister.
I start scrolling on my phone. Pretty soon, I come across a news report about a man found in the alley by the old pizzeria by my father’s house.
The waiter. I bite my lip as I read the article. Mike Piscelli. It was his father’s catering business at the house. He was the oldest of five in his family. I gloss over the highlights of how he was foundin a pool of his own blood. The police think that it was a robbery of some sort and are looking for suspects.
I get a little nauseous when I think about what Alexei Mechnikov did to him. He beat him up pretty badly, but I didn’t think that he woulddie. I never imagined that I’d actually bear witness to a man getting beaten to death. Now that I’m faced with it, I don’t know how to feel except nauseous.
The man my sister’s about to marry really is a beast. I look at the time on my phone and realize it’s been about twenty minutes. I wonder if she got stuck in the dress or something.
I get up and walk down the hall to the dressing rooms. The hall is small with just four dressing rooms and an emergency exit. As I walk up, I notice that the exit door is propped open a little. Probably somebody outside having a smoke.
I get to the only closed dressing room door and knock. “Annie? You need help?”
No answer. I frown and knock again. “Annie?” Still no answer. I try the door and it opens.
There’s no one here. The wedding dress and veil are crumpled on the floor like she evaporated into thin air.
A terrible feeling comes over me as I realize the emergency exit door is open. I turn and open it, looking out into the parking lot behind the store. There are several cars parked where they had been when we arrived, but I immediately see that mine is gone.
Shit.
“Explain it again.”
I’m standing in my father’s parlor room. He’s sitting on the corner of his writing desk in the corner behind me while Maxim Mechnikov is staring me down, ice blue eyes like daggers and his jaw clenched like a big bulldog. I just finished telling them everything. I don’t want to go through it again even though he’s asking.
But Dad hasn’t said a word. He’s just sitting behind me while I stand in the line of fire. Behind Maxim is Alexei, who just has his arms crossed as he leans against the wall, a disinterested look on his face. His knuckles only show the remnants of the last time we saw one another. I guess this time, he’s not coming to my rescue.
“She was taking too long getting dressed,” I say again. “I went to look for her and she was gone. I saw the back door was open, so I went to look for her in the parking lot, and my car was gone too.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You drove her there and she had your keys?”
I shake my head. “If I had to guess, I’d say she hot wired it.”
I hear a chuckle behind me. It sounds so strange that at first I think maybe I’m imagining it. I take a look over my shoulder and my father is laughing. He puts his palm on his forehead, leaning into it as the chuckle turns into a full belly laugh.
“I don’t see what’s so funny, Pecora,” Mr. Mechnikov says. “This is a serious breach of our agreement.”
He lets his laugh die down, then wipes his eyes and says, “You know, I taught her how to hot wire a car when she was twelve. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing.” He looks at me. “Your mother was furious with me when she found out. I always kind of thought it was one of those… bonding moments that you have with your kid. I never dreamed in a million years that she’d ever actually use that skill for anything.”
