Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“This has to be the place,” Lanzo says as we circle the block.
“Why?” I ask, genuinely bewildered.
It’s an apartment building. The thing looks like a giant slab of concrete with holes carved into it. The structure is ugly as sin, a horrible blot on the landscape, right on the edge of downtown Dallas. I can’t imagine anyone would want to live in it, much less a rich and terrifying Russian assassin.
“Because it’s perfect.” Lanzo parks the car across from the building. We’re in a rented sedan, bought with a fake name, using a stolen credit card. Multiple layers of protection. Lanzo’s paranoia is out in force. “Good location. Dumpy enough that most people wouldn’t even notice. But with a good viewing angle. See, look how there aren’t many trees, and the buildings on either side of it are shorter? If he has a place up top, he can see for miles.”
I frown, squinting up toward the top. “Are you telling me Burian’s in there somewhere, watching the city like a creepy gargoyle?”
“Pretty much.” Lanzo sits back, making himself comfortable. “Now for the fun part.”
“Which is what exactly?”
He smirks at me, closing his eyes. “We wait.”
“For how long?”
“Until we find him.”
I prod Lanzo with my fingers. He swats at me like waving away a fly but doesn’t open his eyes. “You’re not serious, are you? Your big plan is we park outside of what you think might be Burian’s apartment building and we… watch it?”
“It’s called a stakeout. Surely you’ve seen a detective show?”
“Don’t be an ass,” I say, glaring. Although he doesn’t notice because his eyes remain closed. “You’re not staking out anything, you’re taking a nap.”
“That’s why I have you.”
I groan. “You’re really leaning on me to spot him, aren’t you?”
“You’re the only person to ever see him.” He cracks open one eye, trying not to smile. “Which you keep reminding me.”
My jaw clenches, teeth grinding. This arrogant little prick. I want to punch him hard in the arm, but I hold myself back.
Because this is what I wanted.
He’s letting me get involved again. Instead of stashing me back at the apartment and doing this all himself, he’s letting me stay in the car. He’s giving me responsibility.
Without directly saying it, he’s giving me what I asked for.
Although I still want to visit Grandpop and my friends, at least I’ve been calling and texting them regularly, and everyone seems fine.
I settle in for a wait. Of everything I’ve learned from watching way too much Law and Order, plus several seasons of The Wire, stakeouts are massively boring. I try to keep my eyes peeled on the entrance, watching everyone that comes and goes, making note of anyone that remotely matches the man that I spoke with via Zoom. I don’t see him, but I also don’t expect to, not at first anyway.
I try to pay attention. I really, really do, but after an hour, my mind begins to wander. Music runs through my head, old songs I haven’t heard in forever. I end up humming melodies, tapping beats. Lanzo ignores me, alternating between dozing and intense watchfulness, like he can’t focus his attention for long without falling asleep.
After the second hour passes, I feel like I might lose my mind from boredom. That’s when Lanzo looks at me and says, “I should’ve told you from the start how I know Burian.”
The suddenness of his declaration makes me pull a double take. I hug my knees to my chest, trying to summon the rage I felt the other day, but finding it all burned out. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was ashamed.” The nakedness of his admission makes me soften even further. “Burian used me the way he uses everyone. I didn’t want to tell you that I was involved with him, because I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”
I smile to myself. “You should’ve known that wouldn’t happen.”
“You taking an odd job for him because you’re financially desperate is very different from what I did.”
“Maybe,” I say, shrugging a little. “But I also know how persuasive Burian can be. How charming he seems.”
“I wasn’t charmed,” Lanzo says, and I can’t tell if he’s trying to convince himself. “I just wanted to be more. Burian was offering me harder jobs, bigger paydays, more prestige. He was building me up. I don’t know what his long-term plans were for me, but if I hadn’t turned my back on him, I’d be a very different person today.”
“What made you finally walk away?”
“A lot of things came together,” he says, still not looking at me. “The jobs kept getting more intense. They kept getting dirtier and dirtier. I began to realize that I didn’t want to do anything at all. That I want to have some agency over the sort of tasks I take on.” He leans forward, gripping the steering wheel. “And I didn’t want Burian to own me anymore.”