Project 17 (7 page)

Max was the first to break the silence as they walked out of the elevator inside their building.

“It’s nastier than we thought,” Jamie said next. “A two-year-old kid.”

He didn’t say anything more. Lillian opened the door to her unit. “You don’t think—”

“Lillian, you’ve seen those two men in gloves and a canvas bag. Maybe they brought a change of clothes.”

“Or maybe,” Max said, sitting down on the couch and letting Mimsy crawl out of the bag, “the men from Northpoint came over to talk to the wife about Zeke. I mean, that’s
around the time he went cuckoo. Wife screamed because he wanted them out of the house. Wife called Zeke, he came home early, Sentries came over, they talked, family left, cops left.”

“But why did Zeke and his brother change their identities?” Jamie said. “And if the wife and the kid are safe, why aren’t they living with Zeke with new names?”

“Maybe they broke up after Mediatrix of All Graces happened. Zeke lost custody.”

“And the brothers changed their names because?”

Max shook her head, stumped. “I’m running out of silver lining.”

“And when Lillian called the brothers’ emergency number, she was apparently transferred straight to the chief of Pharmaceuticals at Northpoint-Pascual. What’s up with
that?”

“Let’s say those two guys murdered Toni and Sophie,” Lillian said. “How come the Sentries just drove away?”

“The hit men cleaned up after?” Max said, and Jamie shook his head.

“That quickly? These are Sentries we’re talking about.”

“They’re not all that,” Max said, “no matter what Grandmama Dex said.”

“But she’s right, though,” Jamie said. “You can’t bribe them, or scare them. So why would they leave a crime scene?”

Max placed Mimsy on her lap. “You can bribe or scare their Controllers.”

“Controllers are completely anonymous,” Lillian said.

“At least one person knows who they are. They’re on a payroll somewhere right?”

“The entire Murder Squad and other investigative units under SentryServ are humans, too,” Jamie said. “Far as we know.”

“But can Controllers alter the Sentries’ programming in that way? Ignore a murder scene?”

“Maybe they reported it and somebody intercepted the Sentry report,” Jamie suggested.

“So it’s someone inside SentryServ?” Lillian asked.

“Someone inside SentryServ,” said Max, “who’s working for someone inside Northpoint-Pascual.”

“I need a drink,” Jamie said.

“God, Lils,” Max said, looking pleased. “You take on one harmless summer job and you trip on a conspiracy.”

“But we still don’t know what the cover-up is for,” Lillian said.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Max said, getting up and heading to the door with Jamie. “My computer’s still doing searches on Zeke and Abe, and maybe soon enough Lester will
prove that he’s useful after all.”

“Lillian,” Jamie said, “when you finally get your answers—what will you do?”

Lillian sat on her couch and took off her shoes. “I don’t know,” she said. “Depends on the answers.”

“She’d blackmail Northpoint-Pascual,” Max said.

“Of course,” Lillian said, and laughed without much mirth.

“Of course,” Jamie said. He looked worried. “Don’t do anything stupid now, okay, Lils?”

Sunday tomorrow, laundry day, and after that, back to work. Back to Caleb and his placebos. Except that instead of sugar he had been ingesting calcium.

“Of course,” Lillian said.

Monday came barreling in like a speeding car. Lillian blinked against the sunlight, threw back the sheets, and wondered what the day would bring.

Mimsy, it turned out. Lillian was just raising her arm to knock next door when Max threw the door open and pushed a basket at her chest. Inside the basket, Mimsy lifted her head, blinked at
Lillian, and went back to sleep.

“I need to work,” Max said. “And that damn cat keeps sitting on my keyboards.”

“But I’m going to work!”

Max clasped her hands together. “Please. Just for today. Jamie’s office doesn’t allow pets.”

“What if Paul won’t let her in their house?”

Max sighed. “Then call me and I’ll dump her at Lester’s again. Please. Just get her out of the house before I
murder
her.”

Lillian placed the basket on the floor. “Just for today, we’re clear on that?”

“Yes.
Thank you.
Want some coffee?
”
Max pointed at her tumbler.

“You’ve heard about the late Mrs. Morales?” Lillian asked, following Max to the kitchen.

“Yeah, and how her death’s connected to the judge.” Max scoffed. “You think the Murder Squad’s getting bored?”

“You think?”

“Why would he have his wife
and
the divorce judge killed?” Max said. “There are many reasons why a man would be driven to murder his wife. Infidelity, arguments over
property and money. But why a judge? They don’t have children, and the judge will most likely rule in favor of a divorce anyway.”

“Unless he didn’t want a divorce?” Lillian thought about it. “He didn’t want a divorce on her terms.”

“Yes. I think the most feasible scenario is: they didn’t have a pre-nup. Mrs. Morales asked for a crazy amount for alimony and demanded a 50-50 assets split. The judge was about to
rule in her favor.” Max handed Lillian her tumbler. “Huh. That actually sounds possible. Maybe the Murder Squad isn’t bored after all. They might have a case here.”

“How did he do it?” Lillian asked. “How did he get an assassin that could outsmart the Sentries? They’re
everywhere.”

Max shrugged.

*

Paul was on his way out when Lillian arrived at their house. He glanced at the basket, which she was carrying with both arms.

“Good morning,” she said. “I have a cat.”

“A cat,” Paul said. He looked wary.

“Just for today.” Lillian put down the basket on the doorstep and picked up Mimsy. “Say hi, Mimsy.”

“That cat looks obese,” Caleb said, who appeared behind Paul with a bottle of water.

“Well,” Lillian said, raising one of Mimsy’s paws, “the cat says fuck you, too.”

Paul laughed, leaning against the doorjamb. Caleb smiled. He looked relaxed, calm. Normal.

“Are you okay with having a cat here?” Paul asked him.

“I like cats,” Caleb said. Lillian lowered her arms and Mimsy slid out of her grasp and onto the floor. She walked up to Caleb and meowed.

“Come on, Mimsy,” Caleb said, and led her to the kitchen. “Want some milk?”

“He looks happy,” Lillian said, stepping into the house with the basket.

“It comes and goes,” Paul said.

“Oh?”

“He seemed so angry during the weekend, I don’t know why.” Paul met her gaze. “Call me if anything comes up, okay?”

Paul left. In the kitchen, Caleb poured some milk in a saucer and watched Mimsy lap it up, as though hypnotized.

*

Caleb sat on the couch and watched TV until lunch, stroking Mimsy as she sat beside him. For lunch, they ordered pasta. Caleb kept polishing his spork.

“Anything wrong?” Lillian asked. She was already halfway through with her fettuccine alfredo.

“This is dirty,” Caleb said.

The plastic spork was gleaming white. “It’s fine, Caleb,” Lillian said.

“Dirty,” Caleb said again. He set the spork aside, took a new one, and began to eat.

“Are you okay?” Lillian asked, and Caleb looked at her as though surprised she was sitting there.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said.

He slept on the couch after that and Mimsy curled up on the floor licking her paws.

Lillian checked her phone and found that she had 10 missed calls and a new email.

Max.

“It’s raining,” Caleb said.

Lillian nearly jumped out of her skin. Caleb was now sitting on the couch, feet flat on the floor, eyes on the windows. Mimsy slinked around his legs.

“You’re awake,” she said. “Jesus.”

“It’s raining,” Caleb said again. Lillian followed his gaze.

It was a humid day, and outside the windows the sun shone, scorching and bright.

“No, it’s not,” she said.