The money wasn’t in Liz’ apartment. Eric stood watch by the door while Valentine went through the place quickly, but came up empty. The whole time, Eric expected to be scared and terrified and waiting for the cops to show up at any second, but he didn’t really. Valentine had called it right. They were in and out without anyone knowing. Oh, Liz would know someone had been in her place, since Valentine had thrown some of her stuff around, but she wouldn’t know it was them. They got away clean.
He liked the sound of that. Got away clean.
When they got back to the house, Valentine said he had an errand to run, and left in his van. Drusilla was sacked out on the couch, watching TV, and didn’t show any interest in going, or in Eric. She had moved in as well, and brought a small pile of her stuff with. All of it smelled like incense.
Eric went into the kitchen, which was getting kind of messy because there’d been no one to clean it in a couple of days. He thought about untying his mom so she could clean up, then decided not to. That was pretty dumb in fact, she’d probably make a run for the door, or get to the phone when he wasn’t looking. Or untie Dad. Eric went in the fridge, cracked a beer, and drank a third of it right there. That felt good.
Tied up or not, the family did need to eat at least. They hadn’t been fed since yesterday. There was half a pizza on the counter, and he took that in to them. He didn’t turn on the light, so it was too dark to see the looks on their faces.
Valentine returned an hour later, with two big utility belts. Eric saw the guns and realized they were Sam Browne belts–cop belts. “Where’d you get those?” Eric asked as Valentine dropped them on the kitchen table.
“Where do you think?” he replied, pulling one of the Berettas from its holster and looking at it. He met Eric’s eye. Eric half-expected him to point the gun at him, but he didn’t. “We’re going to have a good week, aren’t we?”