Page 20 of Steal My Heart

Maks holds up his hands. “Talking about the jungle cat.”

Sure you were.

We enter the walk-in freezer, where I find Remi’s piece of shit landlord tied to a chair.

Formerlandlord.

“Do you know why you’re here?” I ask, grabbing a plastic bag.

“I don’t know! You got the wrong guy!”

“Wrong answer.” I move lightning-fast, bringing the bag over his head.

Remi

“Girl, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that ain’t no house cat.” Corinne eyes Nola in my arms. “You got yourself a bobcat. Don’t know how it hasn’t ripped you to shreds,” the old woman mutters.

The housekeeper reminds me of MawMaw, God rest her soul. “I promise you, Nola isn’t a bobcat.”

The woman doesn’t appear convinced as she opens a can of cat food and dumps it in a porcelain bowl. “Alright, not a bobcat.Bon appétit.”

She places the bowl on the tile, and Nola hops out of my arms to inspect. Taking a few sniffs, the food appears up to her standards, and she takes a dainty bite.

“What’s in the locked room at the end of the hall?” I wonder. Having snooped throughout the property, there’s only one room I can’t enter.

“Music room.”

“Music room?” I repeat excitedly. “Do you have a key?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do. And you’re not getting it.” Corinne pats her apron pocket.

Sometimes it’s too easy.

Glancing out the window, I distract her by asking, “Is it safe to walk near the lake, or are there alligators?”

She follows my gaze, and my hand snakes into the top of her pocket, pleating up the fabric lining until the key’s lifted into my hand. Dropping it in my pocket, I’m the picture of innocence as she turns her attention back to me.

“Is there water in the lake?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Is this a trick question? Yes, there’s water in the lake,” I say tentatively,

“Then if there’s water, there’s gators.”

“I’ll remember that.” Considering it’s seared into my memory from last night, I don’t think I could forget, even if I wanted to.

“Do you need anything? I’m getting ready to head out,” she tells me.

I play it cool. “No, ma’am.”

“Mr. Calvani’s never brought no woman here,” she admits, and I beam for some silly reason. “I hope you stick around.”

“That’s the plan.” Shithole apartment versus palatial estate? Worth the threat of life and limb. So maybe I didn’t feel that way when I was hanging over the yacht last night, but a good night’s sleep with sheets soft as a cloud has a way of changing a girl’s perspective.

There are a hundred questions I want to ask this woman, as I suspect she’s the keeper of all Mr. Calvani lore, but I don’t want to come off as too strong too fast, and so I wave her goodbye.

Corinne leaves, and I make a mad dash down the hall. Using the key, I open the door and flip on the light. Tentatively, I step inside the musty room.

“Wow.”