That left me only one option. It was obvious and it was dirty, essentially the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to do it. I couldn’t see any other way out of this mess with my honor and my company intact.
“I’ll think about it,” I said finally.
“Don’t think long. I’ll give you two days to figure it out. If you don’t make your choice then, I’ll release the information and we’ll see who survives.”
I didn’t bother to respond. I turned without another glance at Cox and quickly strode to the elevators. I thought I heard Bruce laughing as I walked away, but I couldn’t be sure.
I was already planning my next moves. I knew I had to finish this soon, much sooner than people expected, otherwise we’d be done for. But I finally had a course of action, and I hoped it would be good enough to get us all through it. Because this wasn’t just about me anymore, it was equally about Emily and Evelyn. I couldn’t just leave them behind and forge ahead with some random plan. Whatever I did had to include them in some way, at least it had to have their best interests at heart.
I couldn’t tell them my plan. Not exactly at least. I knew they’d both try to talk me out of it, but I couldn’t have that. If they tried, I was afraid I’d listen and back down. I needed strength and dedication now, nothing else would do.
But before I did anything, I had one last stop. I had one last thing to do, something that I wanted to do, not something that I needed to do. It was just as important as anything else, and I couldn’t wait another second.
25
Emily
For some reason, sitting out by the pool had lost its excitement for me. Probably because I had done it almost every day for the last few weeks, but that was only part of the issue.
I realized that I felt exposed sitting outside. I knew there was someone coming after us, someone that wanted to see Carter destroyed and was using me to do it. I felt naked and exposed sitting out in the open next to the pool, like someone was watching me.
Which was why I went into hiding. Not hiding, exactly, but I wasn’t going to sit out in the open anymore. It was a shame, since the weather was gorgeous, but at least the mansion had a lot to do.
I spent the morning exploring. I visited the Turkish bath again, just for a few minutes, and then went on to the bowling alley, the movie theater room, and the kitchens. The staff ignored me, for the most part, and my bodyguard followed me around, but it was nice. Sitting outside with nothing to do felt lonely sometimes, even though the mansion was filled with people.
Eventually I found myself drawn to Carter’s music room. As I approached the door, I looked back at Secret Service Steve, as I had started calling him.
“Stay out here, okay?” I said to him.
He nodded once. Good old Steve.
I went into the music room and shut the door behind me. Looking around, I had a strange feeling inside of me, like I was trespassing or something.
This was Carter’s most personal room. I could see it in everything. He had little notes and papers and books lying around, some of them still unfinished with bookmarks on the inside. It looked like it had been straightened by up a maid, but Carter’s personality was still there.
I began to skim through his record collection again, marveling at the sheer size of it. I wondered how much it all weighed, but got distracted by the music to really do the math. I ended up putting on a Smiths compilation album called Louder than Bombs. I was surprised to see that he had a pretty good Smiths collection, and never would have guessed that he was a fan.
As the jingly-jangly pop music floated through the air, I decided to grab a little glass of wine. I filled it less than half and sat down on the couch, relaxing, letting the music drift around me.
I understood what he saw in that room. It was relaxing to be surrounded by so much music, and although putting on records was a lot harder than just streaming stuff, there was a level of active choice that came alone with it. I had to actually touch the records, look through them, and eventually choose one. I couldn’t just put on a single song, I had to be ready to experience the whole record, or at least one side of it.
I grew up in the age of CDs, so I was used to skipping between songs, but I liked being forced into hearing the whole record. You got a better sense of what it was supposed to be as a cohesive whole. It was interesting how the format of the media affected the way we experienced it. Records couldn’t be skipped around, and so we have to sit down and hear the whole thing, while CDs could be skipped and repeated so easily. They were seamless, whereas the seams were very visible with records.
I realized that I was daydreaming when I heard a knock at the door. I nearly spilled my wine, surprised by the sudden intrusion of sound. I put the glass down on the side table and stood.
“Yes?” I called out.
I expected Secret Service Steve, but instead Carter came in.
“Carter,” I said. “Hey.”
“I was looking for you. I figured you’d be out by the pool.”