Page 88 of Riordan's Revenge
In the bedroom, Riordan collected his prize from the mayor’s house and unrolled it on the floor. The painting was of a family tree with names and birthdates of a line of people, starting with royalty at the top and ending with the mayor at the bottom. That guy was a world-class narcissist.
“I wonder if he cried when Piers told him it was missing,” I mused.
Riordan poked it with his foot. “Hope so. I want to know that he raged about it.”
My grin came more easily. “I have a whole list of other stuff we can do to him. Most of the ideas are petty and anonymous, such as calling his office to leave a message about his erectile dysfunction meds, subscribing him to girlie magazines at his work address, putting his number in the city’s free paper, begging for a Domme to talk dirty to him. Did Everly tell ye his landline’s answerphone plays messages out loud in the house? That one will be fun to be going on all night. I’m also going to get his house keys copied a bunch of times then drop them around the city, with his address on the key fob, of course. Happy for me to go ahead with those? I won’t lift a finger without your say-so.”
Riordan’s gaze danced. “Do it. I want the man sweating.”
“If we could get hold of his phone, I’d change the ringtone to ‘I have to pay pros for sex’, but that means going near him and I won’t do that. All the ideas on my list that involve being close to him are off the table for now.” I returned my gaze to the painting. “Question is, what do we do with this?”
Riordan pursed his lips. “He can’t have it back. No matter if it means the difference between me going to jail or not. He ruined lives over his precious ego. I want to take him apart in pieces, and this is the first cut.”
“Then we’ll go to the roof and have a bonfire. Let the cops see the flames and a rumour spread.”
Riordan didn’t hesitate. He rolled up the painting while I sent a voice message to Jamieson.
Cassie: Are you still in Deadwater and do you have lighter fuel?
My brother’s reply came in quick. I hit play.
Jamieson: Course I do. Just returning to the warehouse with Shade and Arran.
Cassie: Can you come up to the roof?
Jamieson: Give us five. There’s something we need to tell you.
I went to record another message but hesitated. There was something in Jamieson’s phrasing that gave me pause. We’d known Arran for over a decade, but Shade for less. The warehouse was Arran’s deal, so why had my brother named Shade first?
We waited until another message came in, Jamieson telling us to meet them now. From a fire escape in the apartment’s hallway, Riordan and I climbed the metal steps to the cage at the top of the building.
Wind whipped us, the sky lightening in the east where dawn was coming in. The city was never so peaceful as in this hour. I’d spent a lot of time up here, watching the neon pink of the warehouse sign reflected in the river, or the light trails of cars in the streets spread out far beyond. It gave me a place to calm down and contemplate my life. I used to find it restful, being so high above it all.
All I felt now was a sense of foreboding. An energy in the air. Something tangible and looming.
In the centre of the space, Shade helped Everly out of another entrance. He drove her back against a brick wall that housed some kind of equipment and kissed the fuck out of her.
My brother jumped up after, passing them without a look.
Approaching us, Jamieson held out a small yellow tin. “Arran and Genevieve are coming up but needed a minute. What are we burning?”
I passed the lighter fuel to Riordan to do the honours. He unfurled the painting on a concrete block and squirted the contents over it, soaking it in even lines. The other couple on the roof drew closer, then Everly took an audible breath.
“Is that my father’s family tree?” Her wide-eyed gaze shot up to Riordan. “I mean our father. You took it?”
He finished with the can and tossed it, accepting the Zippo from my brother. “If I don’t tell you, you don’t officially know.” He paused and eyed her for a moment, the stench of the fuel rising. “Do you care?”
She paled. Huddled closer to Shade. “God, no. I hate that thing. It’s why I told you about it. It was used throughout my childhood to torment me, and it was right there in front of me the night he gave me to Piers. He cares more about that twisted view of history than he ever could about us.”
“Then enjoy watching it burn with me.”
Riordan flicked the lighter wheel, and a spark leapt, the fuel accepting it with hunger. Instantly, a blue flame sped across the canvas, yellow flickers appearing when it began to consume and destroy.
He watched with a small, enraptured smile, not dissimilar to the one my brother wore, though for different reasons. But my attention had gone elsewhere.
Whispering something in Everly’s ear, Shade wore sweats and a t-shirt, not what he’d typically be seen in after an evening in the warehouse. More like something he’d change into if his clothes had become dirty.
Or bloodstained.