Chapter 9 #2
But Eve said he drowned puppies. That’s abnormal.
And do I believe her? She’s never given me a reason not to, and Lynx led me to her so why would he draw us close if he thought she’d tell psychotic falsehoods about him?
But she could have a deeper angle. I don’t know her motivation.
Money? We pay her well and we aren’t her only clients. What else does she want?
“Lynx drove past the house,” Fox continues.
I frown as I drive up the mountain, higher and higher. That’s not really a crime and not very unusual, either. If my uncle was in this neck of the woods, why wouldn’t he stop by to see if I was home?
But why hasn’t he answered my calls? Why hasn’t he checked in on Lele?
It could be he doesn’t know, but it could be he does.
Either way, service on Riddle Lane is bad without WiFi.
Maybe he called and it didn’t go through.
I open my mouth to snap all of that out to Fox, but he keeps talking before I can start.
“A dozen times. And the last time, when he was leaving, there was something wrong with his windshield.”
My mind kicks into autopilot and I flick on my turn signal and pull beside a mailbox into the next driveway I see.
As expected, it treks up and up into grooves of mud and I’m not doing all that just to potentially get shot on someone else’s property.
I put my Q50 into reverse and look behind me as I wait for Fox to keep going.
Our cameras catch everything. They’re the same type the government uses to spy on diplomats.
Fox gave me that intel and he set the cameras up with a crew.
“Someone shot at it.”
My spine goes rigid and I close my eyes tight a second before I pop them open, reverse onto the highway, then kick the car in drive, careening down the mountain like a madwoman.
“How long between seeing him for the second to last time, windshield intact, and seeing it shot?”
Fox knew I’d ask that question and he’s ready for an answer. “Five minutes.”
“Someone fired a gun at him on our road.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“We don’t have cameras on the road, on account of the fact it’s not technically yours and it’s illegal and highly expensive.”
“Deer cams aren’t expensive.”
“That’s not the kind of camera you want, Lydia, and we both know that.”
I roll up to the same stoplight I just left in silence, only to see Storm pass by across the intersection, going straight from the parking lot of Deer’s. I don’t know if he got coffee or if he knew someone was following him.
I bet he has no fucking idea it’s me though.
Does he even remember the funeral?
Does he hold onto it like I do? Did his parents warn him about me?
When his taillights are barely visible, I throw on my signal and as soon as the light turns green, I gun it, turning after him.
“Where are you right now?” Fox asks when I don’t speak but I’m sure he can hear my engine rev. But I don’t need to tell him where I am at all times, so I haven’t.
“Find out who shot at him.”
“That’s easy. All I need to do is call him and ask.”
I see Leary’s lights up ahead.
This stretch of road leads nowhere, as far as I know. Maybe a scenic lookout, which I suppose could be useful if I was dumping a body, or if Storm was. Despite the weapons on me, I feel a cold thrill of fear creep into my stomach.
I don’t think he’s dangerous, despite who his parents are.
He’s a street dealer, isn’t he? That’s what Fox told me; he heard everything he needed to know from a few people around his circle.
In itself, finding information so easily could be suspicious.
But Fox is paid to protect me, and that means he’s paid to know things.
Then again, sometimes dealers are the most desperate. And what if Fox was fed bullshit?
This could be dangerous, following Storm alone.
And I can’t die.
Lele will need me.
When he wakes up.
Because he will.
He has to.
And this is all for him.
Isn’t everything?
“Lyd. Did you hear me?”
“Do not call him.”
“Then finding out who shot at him is going to be near impossible.”
“Figure it out without alerting Lynx that you know you saw him.” I end the call.
It doesn’t take me long to catch up to Storm.
He was hauling ass, but I’m going faster.
Fox’s revelation is stuck in my head, and he said Storm and Lynx knew one another well while Lynx has never fucking told me Storm was around.
In fact, he said the opposite; that I’d never run into him.
Fox’s evidence was thin but he was able to make a connection between Storm’s parents and my uncle and business dealings he was certain Storm had been a part of.
Someone is lying. I wonder if it’s Fox, but I know he’d give his life for mine.
And now Lynx Flynn is driving by my fucking house. A dozen times. All while avoiding me.
That’s not normal behavior.
If he has something to do with what happened to my brother, my world will get messy, fast. But I don’t believe he does. I don’t believe in anything but family and the power of the unseen, and really, aren’t they one and the same?
Storm throws on his turn signal.
We’re the only ones on this road.
I can play it safe and keep driving, or I can let him know I’m tailing his ass and turn right now.
Fuck it.
I need answers because the puzzle is growing infinitely more complex as I zoom out. I don’t bother putting on my signal but I turn onto the bumpy, dirt road right after him.
And I know the moment he realizes I’ve been following him.
I hear his engine rev, the turbocharger spooling.
Then he’s fucking gone.
And he cuts his goddamn lights.
What. A. Fool.
I leave mine on, the ruts and dips in the road jostling the car. The Q is low to the ground and it makes navigating inhospitable roads difficult at high speeds. No doubt I could probably beat his ass in a straight off the line race but this isn’t that, and I’m not wrecking my baby.
Fuck him.
I’ll find him no matter what.
I feel Lele in my arms, shaking, sobbing, and I grind my teeth and widen my eyes, staring into the dark as leaves blow by and mud kicks up from the storms this week.
Storm.
What a stupid fucking name.
You didn’t think that when he had his fingers inside you in the funeral home.
I try to push the thought from my head, but it doesn’t go easily.
I slide around in my seat as I hit a deep hole in the shit road. It careens downhill, then shoots up, and I can see the mountain peaks from the stars and my headlights. I turn down “Thriller” blaring in my car and listen to my engine whine at the steep elevation changes.
The fear is there, creeping over my shoulder like a shadow, but I’m not really afraid.
Nervous maybe, or hesitant, but it’s all mingled with something sickening like excitement.
I don’t get to go around whacking people off for the fun of it.
My business dealings aren’t legal in any light but murder isn’t typically on my list of crimes.
But before last Friday night, no one had fucked with my brother.
And considering I’ve only been in this town a year, I have to make sure people know if they fuck with me or my family, they will be dealt with.
Drugs have become like weapons; ODs are more common, additives fatal.
A carefully placed ingredient can drop someone like a stone.
I won’t let that become the bullet for Lele, or anyone in my circle.
I don’t use, but he does, and most of the people who work for me do too, on occasion.
It’s my job to protect them. This is how I do that.
I fly around a corner, picking up speed as the road seems to even out now that the elevation is stable.
I can’t see Storm, and when I crack my window, I don’t hear him either.
But up ahead there’s a faint glow. I don’t think it’s from the Subaru, but it’s a good place to stop and assess at any rate.
I don’t want to be led to some den with more men and more guns, so I need to keep my head on straight despite the fact I’d like to pop out the car gun blazing.
I slow the Q, roll my window up, and keep alert.
The path becomes rocky, like it’s been filled in, and the light is coming from a bulb over what appears to be a warehouse.
It’s made of brick, two stories it looks like, with windows on the top floor.
The light is over the door at the end, wide enough to pull a car through, like a garage bay.
On the long side of the building is a regular entrance door, black with peeling paint, and closed shut.
There’s room to park several vehicles out here and the grass is short, like people come fairly often, and this particular spot is clear of trees. But surrounding me, there’s forest and hills and no doubt a ravine Storm could throw me off if I get out of the car.
I’ll have to, though.
I don’t see his WRX anywhere.
I twist around in my seat and look through the back windshield.
Nothing.
I sigh, then unbuckle my seatbelt. I glance at my cell and see I have zero bars.
No call for help will make it through, so I leave the phone to free up my hands, but I snatch the gun from the console and the holster and wrap my fingers around the grip.
I have a knife strapped on the outside of my thigh too, over my tailored black pants.
I’m grateful I’m wearing laced Oxfords instead of my usual stilettos; I thought I might have to chase this kid.
I open the door and listen before I step out.
Nothing but the breeze for a long moment, and then the howl of a wolf.
Deep and low and continuous for too many heartbeats.