“I don’t feel so good,” he said.
“Here, sit on the couch,” Marcy said. “You had a lot to drink.”
“I did? C’mere, I want to kiss your neck.”
“I like that,” Marcy said.
“You know what I like? I’ll show you,” he murmured.
And then silence. Edie could feel every muscle in her body tensing.
“Rocco? Are you asleep?”
Rocco muttered something incoherent.
“Make sure he’s upright,” Edie said.
She listened to Marcy’s exertion as she tried to move Rocco. “Okay, he’s definitely out,” Marcy confirmed.
“Call housekeeping. I’ll put the rest on alert.”
For several moments, Edie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She heard Marcy make the call, heard her pacing restlessly. It seemed forever before Irene finally came in.
“Take a breath,” Irene said to Marcy. “Check his pockets. I’ll check the bedroom.”
“It’s right there, next to the door.”
“Look at that, like he’s doing us a favor,” Irene said. “Okay, now pour out the booze and wash the glass you used. Put it back with the others. I’ll be back.”
And then Irene was gone. Edie was wound as a tight as a coil and feared one wrong move would send her sailing over the railing. She couldn’t imagine how Marcy must feel. “Are you okay, love?”
“How can I be okay? I just roofied a guy. What if he doesn’t come out of it?”
“He’s breathing. I can hear him from here. You need to leave him a note. Say something like he got too drunk and you had to go. That you waited around … just something that makes it look like it’s all his fault.”
Marcy didn’t respond. Edie could tell she was pacing again. “What if I killed him, Nana?”
“You didn’t kill him. He’s snoring.”
“This very thing happened to a girl I knew in college, did I ever tell you? Someone roofied her and raped her and she was never the same. It’s horrible.”
She was starting to spiral and it alarmed Edie. “It’s not a roofie. And it’s true that sometimes in this line of work we do things we don’t like—”
“Don’tlike? This isn’t a dentist appointment, Nana.”
“What do you want me to say? That the bastard had it coming? Because that’s what I think.”
“What is taking them so long?” Marcy pleaded.
“Breathe,” Edie said. She was heading out of the bar. To where, she didn’t know. She felt panicked and sick with worry that Marcy would be caught. That they’d all be caught. “Everything is fine. We’re right on schedule.”What schedule?They weren’t on any schedule.Nothing about this was fine!Is this what she’d wanted? Revenge? Because it didn’t feel like that’s what she wanted right now.
She hated herself right now, hated the fear in Marcy’s voice.
She hated that she’d called Simon last night. That conversation was still clanging about in her head.
She couldn’t really pinpoint why she’d picked up the phone and called him. Sure, he’d been blowing up her phone wanting to know when she was coming home, to say that he was sorry, that he wanted to talk. But she’d been down this road before with him. It was always the same—he pushed her until she pushed back hard.
But over the last day or so, she’d been feeling uncertain about this heist, and in particular, having Marcy here. And when she was scared or uncertain, she wanted to hear his voice. It might have been that simple, the thing that made her call him. The thing about Simon was that she hated him most days and resented the way he held her past over her head, and disapproved of his lying, cheating ways … but shelovedhim.
