Page 72 of The Pawn

“That’s helpful of my brother. Generous even.”

“Oh, he didn’t do it out of either of those things. He wants the deed to the AC property.”

“Now that sounds more like Severin Blackstone.”

Turning my laptop around, I open it and plug the flash drive in.

“It only records when there’s movement,” Jet says as video goes on and off with random things, an Amazon delivery, someone coming home with groceries, the man I killed. It’s tedious for the first ten minutes and I push the button to move the video forward. It moves quickly, everyone a blur, until we pass the moment where a motorcycle pulls up. The driver climbs off leaving the bike idling and hangs a bag on the doorknob.

“There,” I say. Jet peers closer.

I push the back button until we get to the drop. I play it at normal speed and watch the bike come into view. The driver is wearing a helmet, and the shield is tinted black. Even though he’s looking straight ahead, I can’t see his face. He’s quick, casually carrying an innocuous grocery bag to the front door.

“There should be sound,” Jet says, and fiddles with some keys until he unmutes the video. The man is whistling casually. I don’t recognize him, and the bike is only partially visible. He’s delivered the bag and gone inless than twenty seconds, the license plate conveniently muddied.

We watch the older woman arrive home at the end of her day to find the package on the door. She glances inside it and is quick to spin around, to look for whoever left it. They’re long gone, though.

“Is that it?”

It happens again, same bike, stopping in the same place and leaving another bag. I check the date stamp. It’s the day after that gun delivery.

“Know the bike?” Jet asks.

I shake my head. “I was hoping you might.”

“He doesn’t work for us, Cassian. Sev is a dick, but he wouldn’t go that far. And besides, he wouldn’t fuck with you, not like this. He’s not stupid.”

“He hates me. He hates you being involved in my life. That’s motive enough to hurt me and he knows hurting my family is the way to do it.”

“No. You’re wrong. I don’t think he’d do it. Makes no sense.”

I sigh. I agree with him. I just don’t like what it means if it’s not Sev. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

He looks down at himself. “I’ll change.”

“Come armed. I don’t expect Malek to turn up, but who knows?”

He nods.

There’s a knock on the door. “Cassian?” Allegra calls.

I close the laptop and take the thumb drive out. I slip it into the drawer, take the gun from inside it and lock it. I slip the gun into its holster.

“In here,” I say. “Thanks for arranging the meeting with Severin by the way,” I tell Jet before she walks inside.

“Well, we got a deed to land out of it, so maybe we should be thanking you.”

Allegra opens the door. She looks suspiciously at us. She chose an elegant A-line dress with three-quarter sleeves and high-heeled boots that go just above her knees. Black opals dot her earlobes, and her hair is pulled back into a bun, wavy locks framing her face. She’s lined her eyes in thick black, her lips a deep glossy pink.

She steps inside and puts her hands at her sides, clearing her throat. I realize I’ve taken too long, but she looks, well, she doesn’t look like she’s going to a funeral. She’s too strikingly beautiful.

“You look… good, Allegra.” I walk over to her feeling Jet watching us. She doesn’t even glance at him though.

“You think Malek will turn up?”

I take her hands. “Don’t eavesdrop.”

“I wasn’t. Just overheard.”