Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(32)

“But do you realize what that—”

“Yes. I realize it. We have no choice. I don’t want anyone else involved this time. No professionals.”

As in hit men. It was fine the first time. The second, even. But now…

“Get it done. And make sure there’s no mess left behind. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good. Call me when you have the file.”

He jabs a finger against the end button, abruptly disconnecting the call.

Hell. This has gone from bad to worse.

But he has no choice. He tried to go about it the honorable way—with minimal collateral damage, as they say—but that didn’t work.

What if this doesn’t work, either?

Don’t think about that. It’ll work.

He paces down the hall again, jaw set, past a row of framed family portraits.

He can hear Shirley, the maid, vacuuming at the far end of the apartment. No way could she have heard a word he’d just said—not that he’d uttered anything incriminating, even if she had been listening.

He’s so close.

So close to losing his grasp on the situation…

So close, too, to obtaining his goal and securing his future.

One more obstacle…an obstacle that is, unfortunately, human.

Luckily, compartmentalization is a dominant family trait, and one that’s served Garvey well.

Where would he be if he allowed himself to sweat the small stuff?

As Garvey learned once before, a long, long time ago, one obstacle—human or not—is insignificant, indeed, in the grand scheme of things. You do what you have to do in order to remove it, you make sure no one will ever be the wiser, you move on…and, whatever you do, you never, ever look back.





CHAPTER SEVEN




I can’t take your call right now, but if you’ll leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

Hearing the outgoing message—yet again—on his father’s cell phone, Ryan wonders whether it’s time to leave another message.

He left one earlier, both on this number and on Dad’s home number. Same message, pretty much: “Dad, it’s me…Ryan. I was just wondering if you were back yet. Can you call me when you get this?”

Apparently, he hasn’t gotten it yet, two hours later. Or maybe he has, but hasn’t had a chance to call back yet. Ryan found himself dialing repeatedly all afternoon, hoping his father will happen to pick up, hanging up whenever the voice mail does. Not wanting his father to find a bunch of missed calls from Ryan’s cell phone number alone, he tried a few times from the house phone, too. Let Dad think one of his sisters is calling, too, or Mom, even. Otherwise, Dad might suspect just how needy Ryan’s feeling right now, and feel bad about being away for so long.

There have been plenty of times when Ryan isn’t opposed to instilling some paternal guilt, but now isn’t one of them. He wants his father to see him as a grown-up—man-to-man. Maybe that’ll make him more likely to want to take Ryan on their annual fishing trip this summer.

Last night, he promised Ryan they’d talk about it.

Well, he didn’t promise, exactly.

He said, “We’ll see. I can’t even think about it till I get home and see what’s what, Ryan.”

That wasn’t exactly promising. But Dad hadn’t said no, either.

“Who’s on the phone?”

Ryan looks up to see his older sister standing in the doorway of his room, wearing her usual annoying expression, as though she just caught him doing something wrong.

He tosses the cordless receiver onto his bed, telling Lucy, “You can’t just barge in here!”

“I didn’t barge in. I’m not even in.” She motions at her polished toenails, carefully positioned on the hallway side of the threshold. “Anyway, your door was open.”

Yeah, because it’s too hot up here to have the doors closed. Not because he wants company.

The weather outside is gray and gloomy, but still muggy. Ryan’s bedroom, tucked beneath the gabled roof, is sweltering.

“Who were you talking to just now?”

“No one.”

They both look down at the cell phone in his hand.

“Okay. So you were just talking to yourself like a crazy person?” She shrugs. “Whatevs.”

“Nobody says whatevs anymore.”

“I do,” replies Lucy, who, in her new, postcamp, who-cares-if-anyone-thinks-I’m-cool confidence, somehow manages to actually be cool.

Not that Ryan would ever tell her that.

However, a couple of his friends did say it yesterday at the pool. In fact, they didn’t just say that Lucy’s cool, but that she’s also very hot.

Which, if Ryan really thought about it, is pretty disgusting, so he’s trying very hard not to. But he did allow himself to notice, in passing, that his sister has transformed into a semi-cool person over the summer. And he’s not the only one.

Lucy’s been hanging around with Josh Zimmer at the pool since they got home. He’s in her grade, but he’s not the kind of guy who ever would have paid attention to Lucy before.

Things change.

Ryan hates that. Hates change. Why can’t life go back to the way it used to be?