chapter twelve
anxiety in real time
The basement in the Karkaroff house was cold and sad. It didn't have the same haunted, creepy air as the house's exterior. Kyler's family clearly only used the basement as extended storage space- it lacked anything that made it seem remotely personal.
It left me deeply unsettled as I shone my phone flashlight into the maze of boxes with illegible, smudged labels. A white banker's box in he corner was severely water damaged, a label that read 'Baby Kyler' only just visible. I wanted so badly to look in that box and find something I could use to ridicule him.
But alas, we had a job to do. Making fun of the guy who had made my freshman year hell was going to have to take a seat on the bench for a minute.
"You guys took your masks off?" Ian frowned ( or at least I think he did, he was still wearing his ), looking between Robby and I. "Cowards. What if you get recognized?"
"Kyler's out of town, Ian. You're the coward for hiding behind your Jack Black mask." I sighed, pushing open the door to the minibar room where Ian and Corey thought the gold was hidden.
"Hate to break it to ya, cuz," Corey began, taking off his own mask, so that the only one of our group who still looked like they'd walked out of Nacho Libre was Ian "but we looked like idiots. It was a lame idea from the start."
"You guys are no fun." A disgruntled Ian shot back
I rolled my eyes. "I don't like this any more than you guys do, so let's just get in there, get what we came for and get the hell out of dodge. Does anyone have like, a duffel bag or something?"
Corey reached into his pocket, producing a handful of plastic bags from Longo's, Hot Topic, the local dollar store, and a sex shop that I wasn't even going to begin to ask about.
"Are you serious?" Robby hissed, shining his phone flashlight on the plastic lumps. "Do you seriously think those are gonna be strong enough to carry the Karkaroff fortune out of here?"
"It was short notice!" Corey defended
"Whatever." I shook my head, pushing through the saloon doors that lead to the drab minibar area.
True to the original pictures form every record of the Karkaroff house on file, the walls were a pale blue, the cabinets white and still original from construction. Clearly the space was no longer in use as a bar, a toolbox stacked next to other decidedly 'handy' items on the bar.
I held the teak saloon door open for Robby and Ian to pass through, letting go as quick as I could once Corey was in firing range.
The impact from the door elicited a grunt from my older brother as he was knocked backwards, hitting his head on a stack of cardboard boxes. The rest of us burst into laughter, Robby warning us to be quiet in between laughs.
"You alright Corey?" Ian quipped, his face covered by the luchador mask he still wore
"Ha ha." Corey grumbled, passing through the saloon doors on his own. "Very droll."
Returning to the task at hand, I stood in front of the oil painting, running my fingers along the golden frame. This was it. Behind this painting, there was either enough money in gold to save Miyagi-do, or we'd just committed a felony for no real reason and had no defense when we inevitably got arrested.
Love that for us.
"Here it is." Robby exhaled. "The biggest felony I've ever committed, but also the biggest reward."
"Should we be concerned, Ringo?" Ian interrupted
"Shut up, Ian." Robby and I said in sync
Cory pointed weakly at the painting. "Who's gonna open it?"
Robby looked at me, a sparkle in his green eyes I couldn't quite place. "You should do it, Ringo. It was your idea."
I was floored. The plan had taken on a life of it's own, I didn't really claim it anymore. But at the root, I suppose it had been my dumb suggestion that got us here in the first place.
"Okay." I said, breathless. "Here goes nothing."
I slipped my fingertips gingerly around the frame, pulling with all of the strength I could muster in my tiny body before my shoulder burst into flames.
Okay, not literally, but it burned like hell. I dropped my grip on the frame, one arm springing up to my right hand shoulder as I let a Mandarin curse slip from my lips.
Ian glanced at me. "Auntie Fang would be washing your mouth out right now"
"Well, she's not here, is she?" I hissed, not in the mood for Ian's games. "It's not opening, get me a screwdriver."
Corey and Ian stared at me. Robby grinned.
"I'm a terrible influence." The Keene boy smirked
Ian glared. "He's corrupted dear sweet Ringo."
"Shut up." I murmured, heading towards the red plastic toolbox. There was a screwdriver with a bright orange handle sitting right on top. I grabbed it with my right hand, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as it came and went, checking to see if the end was sharp enough to wedge open the frame.
I paced back over the hardwood floor, the cold seeping in through the soles of my dark purple Converse as I moved to run the sharp edge up the paint. When I realize that she metal was cutting through layers of paint and drywall too easily, I pulled away. "Shit, guys, someone's gotten this thing open already."
A fine line ran from the bottom of the frame to the top, cutting through anything that would have kept it closed.
"We've come too far." Robby shook his head "Open it anyways, there might still be something in there."
"Okay." I whistled lowly, jamming the screwdriver into the opening to use as a wedge, easing it back and forth in an attempt to pry the frame away from the opening. Robby, Ian and Corey grabbed from the frame end, pulling it in the same direction as I was trying to push it with the screwdriver.
We held our breaths as we listened to the creaking of the frame door opening, revealing a shiny white shelf hidden behind it.
However, the shelves weren't filled with gold.
Or Russian banks notes.
"Holy shit, that's a lot of weed." Ian mused, reaching a hand towards it
Each and every shelf was filled with tiny Ziploc bags full of the crumbly green plant, each one marked with a price, a serial number and a total weight.
Kyler was dealing drugs out of his minibar.
"Bro, I want some too!" Robby chimed in, leading me to swat both of their hands away.
"The fuck is wrong with you? We came for gold, not drugs. Even better, we have leverage over Kyler."
Corey frowned. "What good is any of that going to do?"
I sighed, taking a picture of Kyler's stash. "Because if the gold is somewhere else in the house, we can hold this over him as blackmail. We can use this as our in to snoop around."
"Sounds risky when we could just take." Ian said, finally losing the mask to take a better look inside the hidey hole.
I was about to say something else when a creak on the stairs set the hair on the back of my neck rising.
Somebody was here.
NOTES!!
splitting this one into two chapters. aiming for maybe 26 chapters in total???