Generation of Liars (36 page)

“Do you really think Rabbit is
caged inside some ghastly cell?” Vivienne asked. Her ballerina posture was
slumping at the unpleasant thought.

“If he’s not dead already.” The
words slipping off my tongue sounded more callous than I intended.  

Her eyes lowered. The abundant row
of dark lashes lining the top of her eyes began to quiver with tears. “He can’t
be dead,” she softly insisted. “I love him.”

“I know you do.”

“What do you know about love?” she
snapped back. Several dark strands of her silken hair were matted to her cheek
by wet tears.

I turned away from her, ashamed,
and looked out the window and gazed at the gray stone sidewalk blurring by us.
I could see dark roses left on the tombstone at the famous Cimetiére de
Montmartre as we passed it. The driver turned onto Motley’s street and I tapped
the driver’s headrest. “Here.” The driver stopped the car and I reached into
the Hermes bag on my shoulder and pulled out some of the money.

“What are you doing?” Vivienne
asked.

“I’m getting money for the cab
fare.”

“You can’t use that money. That’s
Rabbit’s money, remember?”

“Yeah, but Rabbit might be -.” I
cut my sentiment short and lowered my eyes repentantly. “You’re right, I can’t
use this money.”

Vivienne reached into her purse and
unfurled a row of bills. She slapped them into the driver’s hand and
turbulently climbed out. I slid across the length of the backseat to follow
her.

“Vivienne, I’m sorry,” I called out
to her.

“What is it with you, Alice?” She
spun around and came at me with her finger stabbing into my chest. “Were you
really so sure Rabbit is dead, so confident that money is already yours, that
you were going to use it to pay cab fare?”

“I don’t know. I guess I have just
been living my life heartlessly for so long, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to
act with decency.”

“You shouldn’t have left Rabbit
like you did.” Her small hands were wiping tears away from her eyes. “Not to
mention stealing his money.”

“You’re completely right. I was
just so scared and I thought that money was my only way to get away and be
safe.”

The cab driver sped away from the
curb and Vivienne and I stood with a patch of emerald grass between us and a
black sky dotted with star glitter above us. “How did you become so selfish?”

My shame-stung eyes could only look
down at the grass. “Have you ever kept a secret? I mean a really bad secret.”

“Of course I have. I am a
professional thief.”

“But you’ve only ever stolen,
right? I’m talking about something worse. A secret so terrible, so wrenching,
that the mere thought of it could trigger an unimaginable dread that chokes the
life from you and fills every moment with trembling anxiety.”

She was doing her best to keep up
the look of cold antipathy on her face, but her eyes peeked over at me
mercifully. “What about you? Have you ever kept a secret like that, Alice?”

“I’ve been haunted by a secret like
that for three years and I’ve sacrificed everything to keep it preserved. I’ve
let it choke me from the inside out. I know there’s no excusing what I’ve done
to Rabbit, but it’s not that I act selfishly to protect myself, but to protect
this secret, which has manifested a life of its own.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“I did something unforgivable,
Vivienne. Truly unforgivable. I had the perfect life and I screwed it all up,
all because I made one stupid mistake in a split second. I mean, it didn’t feel
perfect at the time. But at least I had a family, a place to call home. Now
look at me. Cavorting around Paris looking for potential corpses with stolen
money on my back. Keeping a secret, it changes you.”

“It sounds like your secret has
been holding you hostage.”

“It has been, but not for long, not
after tonight.” I straightened my shoulders and took a breath that seemed to
chase away my insecurity. “Let’s go and rescue Rabbit.” We looked onto the
road, which stretched out before us in a slight uphill curve. The expansive
properties sat on narrow lawns that were tightly connected. The graceful lawns
were bedizened with sculpted Venus de Milos or stone lions. “Over there,” I
said. I was pointing to a cardinal red roof, its apex jabbing the peaceful sky
like a red hot poker. “That’s Motley’s house.”

Her heightened eyebrows let me know
she was impressed. “He does well for himself.

I guided her towards the jaws of a
gate that blocked the driveway next door to Motley’s house. The scene of
Motley’s accident the night before. The gates were shaped like an oversized
pair of harps, which lead to a palatial house hidden behind trestles of
shrubbery and ivory stalking all down its brick facade. “We can get a peek from
here.”

We squeezed through the gaps in the
fence’s large crossbars. I noticed a splattering of russet-colored blood that
had been crusted onto the gate by a day’s worth of bold sun. “We can get a good
view of Motley’s house from the side of the yard,” I told her. We cautiously
walked across the stretch of front lawn to a row of shrubs, beyond which there
was a clear view of Motley’s house.

Vivienne kneeled down in the grass
and parted the shrubs to sneak a glance. “So does this Motley guy collect cars?
Or else he’s having some kind of party.”

“Why?” I was on my knees, trying to
peek through the keyhole spaces in the fronds of a shrub. I saw that the length
of Motley’s driveway was queued with cars.

“Crap. What day is it?”

“Thursday. Why?”

“That’s the night Motley hosts
poker once a week.” I turned and sunk down into the dirt on my ass with my back
turned away from the view of Motley’s property.

“Do you think that means he’s
inside the house now?”

“Either he’s in there or the
Thursday night poker tribe showed up on schedule without knowing their host
already cashed his chips in at the big poker table in the sky.”

“Do you think it’s safe to poke
around the house looking for Rabbit with all those people inside?”

“Well, the
usuals
that I
know about, Moonboots McCafferty and Xerxes O’Brien, each weigh about a ton.
But luckily they’re dumb as bricks. Doesn’t make them any less scary or able to
crush us like mice, but outsmarting them is a possibility.

“How will we ever get to Rabbit?”
Vivienne nervously chewed the color from her lips.

“Maybe we can wait and come back
after the poker game is over.”

“If Rabbit has been shot, we really
don’t have any time to waste. Every second could count. There has to be a way.”

I perked an eyebrow at her. “How
are you at poker?”

“Terrible,” she said.

My eyes scanned her up and down.
“But you’re wearing a leather cat suit so that won’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we send you inside to
distract the guys while I slink into the cellar and rescue Rabbit?”

“How can I just show up
unannounced?”

“I think that outfit you have on
announces you just fine.”

“Okay, I’ll try it. For Rabbit’s
sake.”

“Alright,” I led into the plan,
“once they let you in the front door, just make sure it is unlocked behind you,
that way I can sneak inside after you. While you have them preoccupied inside
the poker room, I will search for Rabbit.”

“Let’s do it.” Vivienne rose to her
feet and brushed the pine needles from her ass. I climbed to my feet and
hoisted the bag of money on my shoulder. Her ropes brushed my hands. “Here,”
she said, “you better hold this for me.” I coiled the rope and stuffed it into
the money bag.

Chapter Thirty-five: Motley’s House

W
E
CUT THROUGH where the yards intersected and we treaded delicately onto Motley’s
property. When we reached the door, I slipped behind the ornately-pared
shrubbery that lined the porch like the Queen’s bushy guards at Buckingham
Palace. I watched as Vivienne embarked upon the stately marble steps. She
jabbed the doorbell with her dainty finger, offsetting a system of chimes that
could be heard reverberating throughout the walls of the house.

The door creaked open.

“Yes?” I wasn’t Motley’s
voice.  Too gruff, with the bristle of cheap cigars and drugstore gin
soaked into it. I recognized it as Moonboots McCafferty.

“Hello,” Vivienne said. The voice
she used was much swankier than I had heard her use thus far. “My name is
Vivienne Ting. I’m here to take my chances with you boys at the poker table.”

“In order to play you need a nice
pair of dice,” Moonboots rebuffed. A not-so-subtle pause followed. “I can see
that you have a nice pair of dice. So come on in.” The door widened and I heard
the sound of Vivienne’s high heels scuffing as she entered. I waited for the
locks to unlock from the inside. I took a deep breath and crept up onto the
marble steps. I opened the door smoothly as not to make a sound.

When I stepped into the foyer, I
could hear voices reverberating throughout the walls of the house. I could make
out Vivienne’s voice and several male voices I didn’t recognize. Laughter and
hooting. Vivienne was doing something right.

I tiptoed down the hallway and
descended to the lower level of the house. I hesitated when I got to the
raucous noise of the poker room. I pushed my cheek into the door frame,
allowing one eye to break through and meet Vivienne’s.

She didn’t miss a beat. She quickly
spun her attention away from the door and called out to everyone that
surrounded her. “Hey boys, wanna see a trick?” All eyes were on her. She
crouched down on the ground, and then, springing up by the push of her ankles,
she grappled the giant Samurai sword from the wall. Poised and confident, she
unsheathed it, drawing her arm out across the entire length, and she sliced the
air theatrically. It was a mesmerizing thing to see, the power and swiftness of
her small frame as she commanded the bulky sword.

Everyone was focused on Vivienne.
Their backs were shunning the door. I took the chance to slither by. I balanced
myself on the points of my toes, silently skating past. Once I made it past the
door undetected, I hurriedly scampered past the pool room. The chlorine had
kept the water clear, but there was a slick of Motley’s blood on the cement
from the night before. Two burnt-out cigars sat on the perimeter. I threw open
the door to the wine cellar. I never saw the chamber opening where Pressley had
escaped out from, but I knew there was a manhole somewhere in the floor.

“Rabbit?” I husked into the
darkness of the cellar. The rows of bottles glistened like shiny ocean tides
from the peak of light from the hallway.

“Psst, I’m down here!” I heard a
voice call back from beneath a grate in the floor. “Come down and let me out.”

I got down on my knees and peered
into the hole. It was dark and I could only discern the glow of his eyes.
“Rabbit! Oh I am so glad you’re alive. I didn’t bring a shovel to scoop up your
guts in case you weren’t, and that girlfriend of yours probably would have made
me use the inside of my shoe.”

“It’s not that bad,” Rabbit told
me. “He only shot me in the foot. It’s bleeding like a son of a bitch though.
Wait, did you say something about Vivienne?”

“Yeah, she came here with me. We
sort of bumped into each other and now we’re in cahoots.”

“I don’t know if I like the thought
of you cahooting with my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t like the
thought of you noodling with me, but don’t worry, I straightened her out.”  

“I’m not sure to how to respond to
that, Alice.”

“Don’t worry about it, we have
bigger things to deal with right now than who’s noodling who,” I replied. “I
take it that you being moved down into the hole as a sign Motley didn’t die
last night?”

“Dead? No way. He showed up back
here all banged up. His face was bleeding and his arm was in a sling. I was
still lying on the floor in the office, weaving in and out of consciousness,
when he got back and had Moonboots drag me down here. What the hell happened to
him, Alice? He looked like he had been through a war.”

“I caused him to get run over after
he chased me out of here.”

“No wonder he was steaming angry.”
Rabbit blew out a worried breath. “You shouldn’t be here, Alice. He is going to
kill you if he sees you.”

“I know it’s stupid to be here. But
I wasn’t going to just leave you hanging.”

“Wow. I really appreciate that,
Alice.”

Vivienne popped into the wine
cellar. She smelled of splashed cognac and she was wearing an empty box of
Fool’s Luck playing cards folded into an origami sailor’s hat on her head.
“Okay Alice, I told them I was powdering my nose and I shut the poker room door
behind me so they won’t see us pass. Let’s make this quick.”

“Nice work out there with the
sword, Viv,” I remarked, slapping a high five from her.

“My parents had one just like it
hanging on the wall of their takeout place in San Francisco. I’ve had hours of
practice with it.” Her eyes trailed down to the hole. “Is Rabbit down there?”

“I’m here, Vivienne!” Rabbit called
back up.

Vivienne dropped on her knees and
cooed into the hole. “There’s my little Rabbit! I was so worried about you!”

“I’m okay. Just a little
claustrophobic down here is all,” replied Rabbit.

“Was Motley in the poker room with
the rest of the guys?” I inquired.

“No, he wasn’t, but I overheard a
couple of them talking about him resting upstairs. They were placing bets on
whether he was drunk behind the wheel of his car or if his harpy ex-wife
finally caught up with him and tried to run him down.”

“Rabbit got a look at him after the
accident and he said he was pretty banged up.”

“But not too banged up to still
kill you,” Rabbit interjected. “So let’s get a move on.”