Crushed (58 page)

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The room ahead of them was both spacious and foreboding. The only light they had came from Robert's cell phone.

Sophie walked slowly through the doorway, her breath catching as she took in the unfamiliar space. The light around her was so faint she had no idea what was around her.

"Is there a light-switch anywhere?" Robert asked from behind her. His steps were brisk and purposeful in comparison to her hesitant movements. He released her hand so that he could explore the room, leaving Sophie shivering alone in the darkness.

Even though her heartbeat soared in fear, she didn't' ask for him to stay close. Her pride was too stubborn for that. Instead, she stared into the blackness, as if she could see something in the middle of all the nothingness.

"Here we go." Robert paused, glancing up at a long cord that stood before him. He was a few yards away from her, and she could clearly see him pull on the cord without hesitation. His movement caused one large light in the center of the room to flicker on.

Sophie froze as she saw what was being illuminated. Standing alone underneath the light was a canvas. A single, blank canvas.

The rest of the warehouse was empty except for the object in the center of the room.

She began walking towards it, her eyes focused and serious. Before she could draw any closer, Robert grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

"Wait." He warned, motioning to the black dust lying on the floor surrounding the canvas. Sophie had been so focused on the painting, she hadn't noticed the piles of black dust.

"It looks like ashes..." Sophie walked forward, clinging on to Robert tightly. She released him to bend down to confirm her suspicions. "I'm right." She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

She found him staring at the canvas, which was standing silently in front of them. She followed his gaze, realizing now that the canvas wasn't blank at all. There were three distinct shapes on the white background, all in the same shade of green paint.

"Handprints?" Sophie asked herself, standing up abruptly. "Why?" She took two steps forward, reaching out to touch it.

Robert had returned his attention to the ashes beneath them. "It can't be." He whispered under his breath, his expression turning horrified.

"What?" Sophie asked, growing irritated now that she again had no idea what was going on.

"The paintings...they couldn't have..." His hand covered his open mouth, while his eyes roved over the scene before them. "That would be insane...no one would..."

"You think they burned the paintings?" Sophie asked, reading his expression. "All of them?"

"It makes sense." He whispered. "It would've made the loudest statement."

Sophie clenched her fists as a memory came flying back to her. Luke had said something a while back that reminded her of this scene. His words were still as clear as the night he'd said them.

"If I were your parents, I would've burned them. All of them. Show Cleo and Max that they can't have everything they want."

"No." Sophie shook her head. "This doesn't make any sense! Burning them doesn't solve anything!" She kicked up the ashes with her feet as tears streamed down her face. "We came all this way for nothing. They've destroyed any chance we have of escaping. How could they be so stupid?"

Even before she'd begun to break down, Robert had already been by her side. He took her in his arms and rocked back and forth. He remained silent for a long time as she cried, as if he were also coming to terms with his own disappointments.

"We were so close!" Sophie shouted in his chest. "Everything would've been fine."

"No, you don't know that." Robert soothed.

"We could've given the paintings to the police...or used them as leverage...or done something with them! Now all we have is ashes."

"They didn't leave us nothing." He turned her towards the canvas, and she glared at it in rage.

"That is worthless." Sophie replied angrily, knowing if there was something of value she would have spotted it.

The three handprints were placed on the center of the canvas. The largest one was to the left, the smallest in the middle, and next to largest on the right. It was obvious that the two outer handprints belonged to a man and a woman, and Sophie suspected the middle print came from a child.

As she continued to examine it, she suddenly remembered a scene from her past. The memory was of Rylan and Gwyn, pressing their handprints onto her bedroom wall. It was such a simple memory, but the significance of that moment hit Sophie like lightning.

Her anger vanished instantly, having been replaced by surprise.

"A family." She stated as she ran her hands over the painting. "The handprints belong to a family..." That much was obvious, but her memory had given her another suspicion. "My...family?"

Turning back to Robert, her eyes widened in shock. "Do you think these handprints belong to my parents?"

His dark blue eyes flashed with understanding. "I'd be shocked if they didn't."

"So this is for me?" Sophie asked, feeling confused again. "Out of all the paintings they stole from Cleo and Max, they leave me this? A canvas with handprints and ashes?"

Robert reached out to grab her hand, his expression turning cold. "This hunt was made for Max and Cleo, not you. If these are the ashes of the burnt paintings...it all makes sense. If I had to guess, I would put my money on the fact that this is your parents' last act of revenge."

"How is this revenge? My mother said she was going to end Cleo..."

"It's hard to end someone when even the police can't do anything to help. Imagine the situation your parents were in. Your mother made it clear in her letter that she didn't expect to live for much longer. They knew the people they were up against, and they must've thought this was the only way to get back at them." Robert glanced down at the piles of ashes that coated the floor of the warehouse. "It was an effective move. I don't know if I'd ever have the guts to do something like this."

"I still don't understand what they got out of burning the paintings. Now, Cleo and Max will just have another reason to want us dead. This changes nothing." Sophie squeezed Robert's hand.

"Don't be disappointed." Robert lifted her chin with his free hand. "It might not seem like they changed anything, but they made a difference."

He turned towards the empty room and laughed. His expression was so amused Sophie couldn't help but feel herself relax. "How can you tell?" She asked.

"Tell me what you know about Max and Cleo." Robert's eyes were sparkling. Sophie scowled, realizing he wasn't just going to tell her the answer she was looking for. "More importantly, what they care about."

"They have everything in the world. They're rich, influential, and bored." Sophie was reciting everything Luke had told her on the day when he'd formally introduced himself. "Their boredom led them into starting this game of stealing from the public, as well as each other. They don't care about money, but they do care about pride...in the form of their art."

"Stealing might have begun as a game, but it's become something they're obsessed with...to the point of ruining lives." Robert's smile turned soft. "Cleo thought she could control your parents through money...and she was right, your parents did need money in the beginning. Though, something changed. Even your parents, who grew up with nothing, knew that money wasn't everything. There are some things in this world that are more important."

"If my parents only wanted money, they could've sold the paintings off. By burning them..." Sophie felt a wave of understanding and pride overwhelm her. "They proved that money doesn't always win." It was a simple lesson, but one which Sophie had had to struggle with herself.

"It may seem reckless for them to burn the paintings, but they got their point across. If Cleo and Max ever saw this, they would go insane." He laughed again. "This might be the only time the two of them have ever been challenged."

"My parents really know how to make me feel awful." Sophie muttered, sadness creeping in on her heart. "Knowing they were so strong, makes me feel even weaker."

Robert's smile faded as well. "Cleo and Max might be who they were aiming at, but doesn't it feel like they hit us too?"

"For a while, we were just as blinded by money." Sophie scowled down at the ground, feeling disgusted with herself. "My dreams were so stupid. I really thought I would do anything for the money Cleo offered me."

"Our dreams weren't stupid. We just mistakingly thought money was the only way to realize our goals." Robert's crooked smile returned as he turned back towards her. "You know, even if we didn't recover all of those priceless paintings, at least we learned something. That counts, right?"

Sophie smiled in response. "I guess my parents were really cool, after all." She reached out to touch the canvas for the last time. "I don't think I've ever missed them this much. Was it naive of me to feel like everything would be solved once we found this place? I really thought everything would be better...but nothing's fixed. They still lost their lives. We can't take that back."

"No, we can't. We can only continue to live our own lives, with or without the threat of Cleo and Max looming behind us."

"Where's the lesson in that?" Sophie muttered in a low voice. "I'm not reassured by that at all."

"We'll just have too..." Robert was interrupted by the flashing lights coming in from the windows lining the side of the warehouse. The unmistakeable sound of cars pulling to a stop scared them into silence.

Both of them stiffened in shock. No one should've known they were here.

"Is it the police, or..." Sophie couldn't finish her sentence. The thought of Max's men catching up to them was too terrifying to put into words.

"Keep praying that it's the police." Robert whispered into her ear as he pulled her forward. He sprinted towards the cord connected to the light overhead, and tugged it roughly. In seconds they were rushing through the darkness for an exit that would lead towards escape or capture.

The sound of voices on the other side of the warehouse door filtered towards them.

The darkness melted away for a moment as Robert's cell phone lit up and began to vibrate in his hand. They ducked next to a window, kneeling to the ground to avoid being seen.

"Turn it off!" Sophie whispered, but Robert hesitated.

"It's Luke." He replied, his eyes narrowing as he answered the call. "Hello?"

He paused, his expression distorting in anger. He pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed speaker phone so that Sophie could hear Luke speaking.

"Am I on speaker?" Luke asked, his voice different than Sophie had ever heard it before.

"Yes," She answered, still keeping her voice low. "Luke, we really can't talk right now." She glanced at Robert, whose eyes were glaring down at the phone. She had no idea what was wrong, but there was no time to figure it out. "We found the paintings...or what's left of them. There are men chasing us, and I think they've just arrived."

"He knows." Robert interjected with a heated whisper. "He sent them after us."

"What?" Sophie's head jerked up, confusion hitting her like a wave.

"The men surrounding you are the police." Luke explained, his tone chilling.

"He's betrayed us." Robert turned away from the phone, his fists clenched tightly.

"I didn't betray you." For a moment, Luke sounded like his old self. Sophie knew better than to believe in that now. "I turned Max and Cleo into the police. I know you're familiar with FBI Agent Marshall. He helped me gather the remaining evidence I needed to take them down."

"Luke, how...why?" Sophie couldn't comprehend this betrayal.

"I saved all of us, Sophie." He began passionately. "Those paintings were never going to buy our freedom. I couldn't wait and watch you get killed by Cleo and Max."

Luke was becoming so distorted in her mind she didn't know what to believe. She couldn't put the pieces together, but Robert already realized everything Luke was trying to say.