Acts of Violet(88)
She scoots her chair over to me and Gabriel rubs my back while I blow my nose.
“I remembered what Antoinette said about following the twos, and even though the message wasn’t for me, it still felt like—Mom, please don’t kill me—it felt like a sign. But I didn’t want to say anything to you guys until I made sure Ace was legit. He gave off a dickish vibe on Strange Exits, but there’s no law against being a cranky old man.” Quinn checks to see how I’m holding up, and I motion for her to continue. “When I met him, he did have a little of that old-school smarm and sexism—he called the waitress ‘cupcake’ and asked me why I was dressed like a boy—but other than that, he was … pretty great actually. He wouldn’t stop raving about Violet, what a spitfire she was and how she was the best thing that happened to magic since Adelaide Herrmann.”
“Who’s Adelaide Herrmann?” Gabriel and I say in unison.
“I wondered the same thing, and he told me all about her. She performed around the same time as Houdini and was called the Queen of Magic. Her shows were epic, and she did tricks nobody else could do—like she did the Bullet Catch with an entire firing squad of six people. As if catching one bullet in your mouth isn’t already a big deal, she caught six! You’d think that alone would make her more of a magic legend, up there with Houdini, but she was forgotten by pretty much everyone except hard-core magicians.” Quinn takes a bite out of her pizza. “Ace said Aunt Violet used to tell him she was scared of being forgotten like Adelaide, and he’d reassure her that would never happen. Which is sweet and all, but at this point, I had to know what the deal was with Magic Secrets Uncovered. You ready for this one?” She’s too hyped-up to add suspense at this point. “Aunt Violet was in on it! She knew about the whole thing and even helped him plan which tricks to reveal.”
I open my mouth to ask exactly what Quinn goes on to answer. “I know, why would she do that, right? So apparently, she wanted to update her show, to keep up with the newer competing acts, but also because who wouldn’t get tired of doing the same thing over and over again? It’s the stuff Benjamin talked about on Strange Exits. But while Aunt Violet was suspected in rigging the stage accidents, actually she was in on having some of her biggest illusions revealed so the Kintana would have no choice but to let her update the show! Baller move, right?”
“Baller move,” Gabriel and I echo in a painfully uncool way.
“Anyway, Ace and Aunt Violet only pretended to have a falling-out in public, but privately, they were always besties. He kept encouraging her to return to doing proper stage shows, even though the bigger money was in the motivational stuff she was doing. And if he knows anything about how or why she vanished, he wouldn’t tell me no matter how much I badgered him. That’s not why he needed to see me. His ‘sole objective,’ as he called it, was to give me this.”
With a flourish, Quinn presents a small gold key. “Aunt Violet had him get the safe deposit box in his name, so it would never be traced back to her. It wasn’t at a bank, either, but a private vault. He swore he never saw what was inside—I was skeptical about that, but Aunt Violet kept him on her payroll until she disappeared, and he lives in a ridiculous mansion, so benefit of the doubt and whatnot.” Turning to Gabriel, she gives him a mischievous smile. “Dad, it’s time to quote your favorite movie.”
“My favorite movie?” He looks startled, like a kid not expecting to be called on by the teacher. “Se7en?”
“Gimme your best Brad Pitt.”
He laughs, clears his throat, and makes his face a mask of anguish. “‘What’s in the box?’”
It takes a long beat for Quinn to answer, her jaw falling open, as if reliving the moment. “Cash. I mean … So. Much. Cash. It was amazing but it also kinda freaked me out. Ace started talking about getting a tax attorney and some other things, but all I could do was stare at all that cash.” A hard blink, head shake, and she’s back with us. “You know what I did next? I puked.”
“Please tell me you threw up on the money,” Gabriel says.
“Right on the money. It was so embarrassing, but then I couldn’t stop laughing.”
I wait for the two of them to stop laughing now before I ask, “Was there a note or anything else?”
“Three, actually.” She fans out a trio of tiny envelopes, as if they’re playing cards. They’re like the kind you’d get with a bouquet of flowers and each one bears a single capital letter: Q, S, G. “I only read the one for me. It said, ‘You’ll probably do better things with this than I ever did. Just remember: your mom and dad already gave you everything that matters. Love, Aunt V.’”
Gabriel and I take the envelopes bearing our respective initials. “You first.” I nod to him.
“‘She’s crafty, she gets around / She’s sorry for letting you down. Love, V.’” His chest shakes as he swats away an errant tear.
“Isn’t that a Beastie Boys lyric?” Quinn asks.
“The first part,” I say, tearing into my envelope. The piece of card stock inside bears one sentence and our “222” sign-off. “‘Everything’s too serious to be so serious.’”
Great. Quinn gets stacks of cash, Gabriel gets an apology, and I get a pithy reminder to lighten up.