Page 43 of Cash

I dashed to the left, close to the wall, listening hard at every closed door. Nothing. So much silence. I wondered where the old man slept and whether he was even alive at that point. Perhaps the group had only been using his money in his name while he’d long since gone to his great reward—or, more likely, to whatever damnation awaited a man who’d made his fortune on the backs of others.

Light breathing. Feather-light. It came from the room at the furthest end of the hall. The window probably overlooked the front of the property. It was the only sound I’d heard coming from any of the bedrooms up to that point. It was worth a try.

The door was locked, but that was no matter. I turned the old, cut-glass knob until the lock broke—the noise was just loud enough to arouse whoever was inside, as I heard their breathing go from the soft, even pace of sleep to a much more hurried pace.

I swung the door open slowly, quietly. “Tommy? Are you in here?”

Nothing at first.

I held my breath, straining to hear.

Finally, “Who are you?” A little boy’s voice.

“I’m here to get you out and take you home,” I whispered as I opened the door a little wider. “I’m a friend of your Aunt Cari.”

“Is she here?”

“She is.” Rustling sounds came from the bed.

I could just make out a small shape, silhouetted against the moonlight streaming through the window, as he sat up. It seemed almost comical, such a little boy in such a big, grand bed.

“She shouldn’t be here. They’re bad people.”

“Which is why we’re here for you, my boy.” I went to him, and he flinched. “I’m sorry. I’m not here to hurt you, believe me. She’s downstairs, and she’s tricking them until I have you safe and sound. We’re going to go down there to get her and get all of us out of here.”

He turned his face to the window, and I could make out the big, blue eyes. The golden hair like Carissa’s. “They’re always watching me.”

“They won’t be watching then, trust me.”

If Cari was able to set the diversion.

He was dressed in pajamas. Someone had been kind enough at least to buy him pajamas.

“When are we going?”

“First off, do you have your coat with you? Or a jacket?”

“It’s here.” He scrambled out of bed and over to a small chair.

“Any heavier clothes?”

“A sweater.”

“Put it on, then the jacket,” I decided. “Who has been watching you, Tommy? What are they like?”

“A big man. He’s the one who talks to Aunt Cari on the phone, and lets me talk to her sometimes. There’s a couple ladies who make sure I eat and get washed up and that stuff. But he’s the one who tells me what to do the most. He locks me in here most of the time.”

He recited these facts like they were nothing, and I remembered Carissa telling me about his life. How much he had already seen.

“Have you ever seen anybody else?”

“Mostly just them. I hear other voices sometimes, but I only see the three of them.”

“Okay. You ready?” At least I knew somewhat who I’d be dealing with.

“I think so.”

“Good. Now. There’s something else we need to talk about before we can leave the room.”

This would be the toughest sell of all.

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