Vicarious (10 page)

“I'm sorry, Eonni,” I said. “I couldn't help it.”

“Hurting yourself won't fix things. Pain is not the answer.” She bit her lip in concentration. “Here, I'll do it too. We can tell people we were being silly, being blood sisters.” She took the knife in her hand and carved the same cross into the flesh of her left palm. Then she tucked the knife away at the bottom of her trunk, beneath her clothing and books.

Lifting up her hand, she said, “Promise me you will never cut yourself again.”

“I promise.” My eyes held fast to the blood oozing from her palm.

She twined her fingers through mine, and my whole body tingled as our blood touched. “Fingers to fingers and thumb to thumb,” she said. “A pair of sisters like matching gloves.”

Gideon flicks his lighter, the sharp sound of the metal striker pulling me back to the present. I never cut myself after that day, but I did other things when no one was looking. I stare at the flame dancing behind his curved palm, and then at the glowing ember that flares up on the end of his cigarette as he inhales. I don't remember the first time I plucked a still-burning cigarette from an ashtray and pressed it against the skin of my thigh. I haven't done it in years, haven't wanted to, haven't needed to. But now I open myself up to the circle of fire, imagining the searing heat and the eventual numbness of charred flesh. Suddenly I'm dying for a pain I can actually control, a pain that would bring peace instead of crushing me to ashes.

 

CHAPTER 10

Gideon
takes the stairs back to the penthouse with me. I am still fantasizing about his glowing cigarette, about adding to the cluster of scars on my thigh. Just once, to clear my head.

No.
Rose's voice is a whisper inside me.
Pain is not the answer.

Pain is all that I know in this moment.

He unlocks the door and we both step into the entry hall and slip out of our shoes. Miso curls around my ankles. I scoop him up and hold him to my chest, his head wedged under my chin.

“I wish I could cancel this trip,” Gideon says. “I hate leaving you alone.”

“Apparently I won't be alone,” I say, heading into the living room with Miso. I roll my eyes. “I'll be with Jesse.”

“He cares for you,” Gideon says. “I trust him.”

I trust him too. But part of me can't stop replaying the events of last night, wondering whether my sister might still be alive if I had done anything differently. I sit cross-legged on the white rug in front of the fireplace and release a squirming Miso from my arms. He bats playfully at a tuft of white fur, attacking the rug like it's another animal.

Gideon frowns. “That cat is a menace.”

“Oh, be nice,” I say. “He doesn't mean to muss your precious home furnishings.”

Gideon sits down next to me. We both lean back against the sofa. Miso's eyes widen at the sight of a second human on the floor for him to play with. He pounces on Gideon's foot, his teeth biting down on the fabric of his sock.

“Ouch.” Gideon shoos the cat away. He rests his hand on mine. “Are you certain you'll be all right without me?”

Lying to Gideon is not something that comes easily, but I've mastered the art of vague, evasive statements. “I have your number, remember? I can call if I need something.”

“And you won't do anything rash?”

“You can trust me, oppa.” Two true and one mostly true statement. Not bad.

*   *   *

About
an hour later, there is a knock at the door. I go to it expecting Jesse, but it turns out to be the cop that Baz mentioned. He introduces himself as Detective Ehlers and flashes a badge. I fetch Gideon from the study.

Gideon lets Ehlers play the ViSE and then gives him a picture of Rose. I tell him about some of her favorite clubs and then watch as he skulks around in her bedroom, his gloved hands gently going through her things. He takes several photographs and then promises to have a tech run her phone records.

“I'll try to get back to you with more information in a couple of days,” he says.

A couple of days feels like forever. Gideon was right about the police. Even Baz's friend isn't going to prioritize finding out what happened to my sister.

Ehlers gives Gideon his business card and tells him to call if he thinks of anything else. After he leaves, Gideon turns to me. “You should eat something.”

I start to tell him I'm not hungry, but then I realize that Gideon's headset with the recording of the overdose is resting on the kitchen counter. I want that ViSE in case I need to review it.

“I just need something to drink.” I go to the cupboard and remove a glass. I turn on the sink and let the water run until it becomes cold.

“I assume you're not going to Krav Maga?”

“Is it all right if I don't?” I fill the glass three-quarters full and then turn off the faucet.

Gideon nods. “You should rest. I'm going to go pack. My plane leaves at three p.m. Jesse will be here in a couple of hours.”

As soon as Gideon disappears into his bedroom, I snatch the headset from the counter and remove the recording. I hurry down the hallway, duck into my room, and shut the door behind me. I set the untouched glass of water on my dresser, my eyes lingering for a few moments on my small collection of snow globes. Most of them are from cities where Jesse and I have recorded ViSEs or Gideon has traveled for work. I guess they're an odd thing for someone like me to collect, but I like the idea of perfect moments captured in glass.

As opposed to the worst moment ever, captured on a ViSE.

I can't bring myself to play the recording again. Why would anyone hurt my sister? Were they interrogating her? Is that why she was being drugged? Or was it simply a clean and convenient way to end someone's life?

Pulling the cover from my bed, I lie down on the floor.
Regression,
a voice whispers. I don't care. Today of all days I am allowed to seek comfort in the past. I think of Rose and me as children, snuggled side by side on a bamboo mat, the heated floor beneath our bodies keeping us warm during the long chilly nights of winter. I think of us at the orphanage, on separate cots pushed close enough together so that we could reach out for each other in the night. And then later, in the hospital, Rose curled up against me. Two sisters, one bed.

I wrap my arms around my comforter and pretend she's here with me. Finally, my thoughts start to slow and my mind goes quiet. I'm not sure how much time passes before there is a sharp knock on my bedroom door.

Reluctantly, I untangle myself from the folds of the blanket and rise to my feet. I cross the room and open the door.

Gideon stands in the hallway. He looks as if he's aged five years since this morning. “My cab is here,” he says. “I'll see you the day after next.”

I walk with him to the door of the penthouse and embrace him lightly as we exchange good-byes. Jesse is in the living room watching television. I must have slept through his arrival. His eyes lock onto mine. I try not to think about last night. Being here with Jesse might be scarier than being all alone.

“So are you going to help me look for that hotel room?” I ask.

Jesse studies me for a moment before responding. “Gideon said a detective was looking into that.”

“Yes. A detective who said he'd try to get back with us in a couple of days. I want to do something
now
.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other.

Jesse sighs. “I knew coming here was a bad idea.”

“What?” I ask. “Gideon said we could try to find the hotel.”

“He also said if we found anything we should tell him or Baz and not go check it out by ourselves.” Jesse arches an eyebrow. “That okay with you?”

I perch on the arm of the sofa. “What if Gideon is wrong? What if she was just knocked out? She could be lying half-unconscious or injured somewhere. We should look for her just in case.” I'm not sure if I still believe in this possibility or if I'm just trying to convince Jesse to help me. I'm not sure what I believe in right now.

“Winter.” Jesse presses the remote and the TV goes dark. “Gideon's not wrong. He's never wrong.”

“Everyone is wrong sometimes.” I cross my arms. “And even if he's not, we should find her, Jesse. She deserves a proper funeral.”

“True,” he says. “So you're saying you just want to check out the hotel if we can find it?”

“I figure we can start by trying to talk to the desk clerk from last night. Oh, and I want to go to Inferno and ask if anyone saw anything.”

Jesse rakes both hands through his thick brown hair. “Shit. You are impossible. I never should have volunteered for this. Gid almost fired me last month, you know? I'm trying to stay out of trouble.”

“What did you do?” I ask. Gideon has never fired anyone to my knowledge. He's too paranoid about his personal information getting leaked.

“Something stupid,” Jesse says darkly.

“Well, I won't let him fire you—I promise.” I pause. “You know I wouldn't willfully go against Gideon's wishes, but I'll go crazy if I do nothing. You saw me earlier, in the ViSE room. That's what happens when I stop moving and start thinking. The blackness swallows me up.”

Jesse shakes his head as he exhales deeply. “I hated seeing you like that. Okay. Inferno doesn't open for hours. Grab your tablet. Let's look for the hotel room.”

I get my computer from my bedroom, taking a few minutes to change out of my dobok at the same time. When I return to the living room, Jesse has already found a list of local hotels along the Mississippi River with the GPS function on his phone. We search each website, but it's tedious work, especially since some of them provide photos of only their most elegant suites.

I flinch each time a room with a crisply made bed pops up on the screen. It's like a door that's been locked inside of me is slowly creeping open, spilling out a past I don't want to acknowledge, let alone relive.

“What about this one?” Jesse asks.

Biting back a wave of revulsion, I force myself to concentrate on the computer screen. The web page is for the Riverlights Hotel and Casino. There's a picture of their deluxe single. Plaster walls. Gray curtains. A navy bedspread.

“It looks like the place,” I say. “Will you go there with me?”

Jesse reaches out for my hand. My fingers fall easily between his. He squeezes gently. “Are you sure you're up for this?”

I nod. “I have to know for certain.”

*   *   *

Jesse
parks in the hotel's garage, so we have to cut through the casino to get to the Riverlights lobby. Solitary elderly people are lined up at the slot machines, their jaws going slack as they press buttons repeatedly. Ignoring them, I scan the small clusters of men hunched over the craps and blackjack tables. I don't know if I'll be able to identify either the recorder or the man who shot Rose full of drugs with almost nothing to go on, but both Jesse and I are wearing headsets under our winter hats so we can record everything we see. I search the whole room, looking for anyone who might be the same size and shape. Anyone who might look or feel familiar.

Jesse strides up to the hotel's front desk, where a red-haired clerk is flipping through a celebrity gossip magazine. Her long manicured nails curl under at the ends like talons.

“Excuse me, miss,” Jesse says. “Did you work last night?”

Her eyes narrow. “Maybe. Why?”

He flashes her his perfect smile. “Do you remember seeing a blond woman in a red dress in here?”

The woman snorts as she flips another page in her magazine. “That's half of our weekend clientele,” she says. “You got a picture?”

He turns to me. I fumble in my pocket for my phone. Flipping to the photo gallery, I am not surprised to find I have only one recent picture of Rose. She's been known to sneak through people's phones and delete any images of her she feels are even the slightest bit unflattering. The one she's left me is dreamy-looking and slightly out of focus.

The clerk raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Sorry. Don't recognize her,” she says.

“She's Korean,” I say. “Really pretty.”

“She might've been with two guys,” Jesse adds.

The clerk smirks but then shrugs helplessly. “It doesn't ring a bell.”

Discouraged, I turn away from the front desk and walk to the large picture window that looks out onto the river. The twisting water beckons to me, its curves flashing deadly white. Jesse follows me and puts a hand on my arm.

I shake off his touch. My heart pounds inside my chest, light and fast, a rabbit being chased by a cat. “I need to find her, Jesse. Even if she's in the water.”

He sighs. “Come on.” He tows me past the desk clerk who is busy texting on her phone. He bypasses the elevators and ducks into the stairwell. Our feet echo on the cold metal as we ascend to the second floor.

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“Making sure this is the right hotel. We can't check the whole Mississippi.”

He's right. We might not even have picked the correct river. There are other ones within driving distance of the city.

The second-floor hallways are both empty. Undaunted, Jesse proceeds to the third floor. Empty. Then the fourth floor. A pair of doors are propped open halfway down the hall, a housekeeping cart parked just outside. Jesse takes my hand like we're a couple returning from a leisurely lunch. As we stroll past the rooms where the maids are working, he looks into one and I scan the other. It's more obvious in person than online. It's the same gray curtains, the same navy-and-gold coverlets.

We're in the right place.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Now we can check the water.”

My chest tightens as we descend back to the main level. We cross the gaming floor and head out into the cold. A MetroLink train hisses by on an elevated track, slowing near the far end of the parking lot to let off a group of casino patrons and hotel employees. I watch the stream of people disembark and head down the stairs, searching for any sliver of familiarity.