Liam said that when Vince would hide something, he’d pick one of the places rich people don’t see. Perhaps he’d hidden it in one of the areas of Salt’s own house he’d never gone. The laundry room. The pantry. Behind the television. That would be something, for Salt to be walking past it the entire time and never noticing. But it was risky too. It would be hard to reobtain the book, and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t be disturbed by someone else. Even if he taped it to the chimney, slate repair people might stumble on it.
Even on a roof—
Charlie stopped, nearly overpouring soda in the scotch and soda she was making.
Who cleans the gutters the day after they murder someone and the day before they leave their girlfriend? A ridiculously considerate person, she supposed. Someone who’d been meaning to get to the task and wanted to get it done before they were gone.
Or someone who was moving something to a new hiding spot, one that no one was likely to stumble on, and which wasn’t the sort of place that someone like Salt would even remember existed. Their rental house had a chimney, connected to the furnace and water heater rather than a fireplace.
And it had a metal top on it. One that magnets might grip.
Of course, there were lots of things that were made of metal in a house. But outside of the house made sense if he wanted to protect the people inside. And if Vince wanted to be able to retrieve it without having to face Charlie.
She could look, anyway.
It would give her a chance to check and see if Adam had busted up their place. If it didn’t seem like he’d been there, Charlie would call Posey and they could move their stuff and themselves back in the morning. Put a baseball bat by the door. See if their landlord would mind if Charlie installed a couple of better locks.
If she did find the Liber Noctem, she had a different problem. No one blackmailed you into one job. Do that job, and there’d always be another. Carrot and stick, back and forth, until you forgot you ever had a choice in the first place. And then what? There wasn’t a reward at the end, just a knife in the back.
Charlie might not agree with Odette that the past was the only thing that mattered, but it had taught her something.
Besides, she’d be damned before she rolled over for Lionel Salt.
She was going to have to con him. She wasn’t sure how, but she would have to beat him at his own manipulative game. Realizing she had to manage that or die trying brought her a great calm, like letting a riptide drag you away with it.
As she waved good night to Odette and got in her car, Charlie had the bittersweet feeling one gets just before leaving town. Bidding farewell to everything, because you’re not sure you’re going to see it again.
Charlie parked a block down from her house and walked over. As she got close, she saw lights moving on a screen inside. The television was on.
She slowed her step. Had Posey forgotten to turn it off before leaving? Was Adam so arrogant that he’d broken in to the house and then kicked up his heels?
Quietly she took the ladder from where it was leaned against the side of the house and set it against the gutters.
As she climbed up the rungs, she could see inside more easily.
Someone was in the house. In the shifting light of the television, she was able to make out a figure slumped to one side of the couch, as though he’d fallen asleep while waiting for someone to return home.
28
ABANDON ALL HOPE
Up on the roof, Charlie crawled over the asphalt shingles. The pitch wasn’t particularly steep and the moon was bright enough for her to see her way to the short faux chimney, with a metal grating covering the top. She pulled herself upright, looking out over the neighborhood for a moment, then, satisfied that no one was out on the street watching, she checked for bolts screwing down the cover. To her surprise, the whole thing lifted off. It was flimsy, like tin or aluminum. Looking down the chimney, she saw that the inside edges were lined in heavier metal strips.
And there, attached to one side, was a steel box with a lock on it.
Her heart stuttered. Stealing had often been a game to Charlie, one where her cleverness was pitted against that of the person who’d hidden the prize. Solving their puzzle was the goal, and the thrill. But as her hands reached for the box, what she felt was uneasiness. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness itself was watching her, waiting to strike.
Charlie pulled the box free, sending two of the magnets falling down the flue. They made a clanging sound that she hoped wasn’t amplified inside.
For a moment, she went still, listening.
No sound from inside. Was it Adam? Certainly, he’d been angry enough to break in and trash her place, looking for Knight Singh’s book. But she didn’t think he had the patience to wait more than twenty-four hours for her to return.