Chapter Five
That night, I showered and changed in Roan’s room, then went out to Legend’s. The more-than-a-rich-boy opened the door wearing silk drawstring pants, a bare chest, and a smirk. He propped against the wood. “Something I can do for you?”
“You can step aside so I can climb into your bed.”
He cocked his head. “Why would I do that?”
Our interlude in the parking lot came roaring into my mind, and on my face if his widening grin proved anything. “Why wouldn’t you? I thought we made up.”
“You take me to see some birds, and you think that’s all it takes for us to get back together? How easy do you think I am?”
“Very,” I said, crossing my arms. “You put out on the first date.”
He laughed. “That’s because I’m a slut, gorgeous. Not because you’re forgiven. I’m still feeling the need to be wooed.”
My teeth gritted. Did I say I loved everything about him?
“What’s this? Fixed things up already?” Roan sidled up next to us. “I knew you were missing that Roan sandwich as much as I was.”
“Not fixed quite yet,” Legend replied, throwing an arm around his boyfriend. “Ivy wants to take me on a few more dates. Show me how much she really cares. Who am I to say no?”
Roan shrugged. “Yeah? Okay. Well, I’m still in the mood for a dick in my ass, so join us, Ivy. You can watch.”
“Yes, please.”
“Oooh, afraid not.” Legend expertly slid Roan in his room and blocked my entrance in one smooth move. “Wouldn’t be nice to tempt you with what you can’t have yet. But here’s a tip for our second date. I like red wines, expensive gifts, silk, and amateur porn. Night, love.”
My retort shot at his closed door. “You finally admit it was a date!”
“I guess knocking us down isn’t going as easily as you thought.”
I faced the handsome figure hanging out of his doorway.
“I never thought it would be easy, Cairo. But it is worth it.”
“Is it? Then why have you given up on me?” Nastiness curled his lips. “You haven’t batted your eyes in my direction for weeks.”
“Because I’m giving you space,” I said, hips rolling as I closed the distance. “Your dad is in trouble. Wouldn’t be right to make it all about us right now.”
“Oh, how thoughtful,” he mocked.
“Was that the wrong thing to do?” I placed my hand on his chest, my heart picking up speed as his thumped slow and steady beneath my palm. “You know how badly I want to make things right between us. Tell me how to do that.”
“You can’t, de Souza. It’s never going to happen between us.” He brushed my hand off. “Besides, I’ve already moved on.”
“What do you—?”
Cairo pushed open the door. Peering over his shoulder, I landed on the slim, pretty, young blonde... stretched out on his bed. Red bled into my vision.
“You fucking bastard.”
“Now that’s not very nice.”
“You shit-covered piece of garbage!” I shoved him. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Whoa, man,” the girl said. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“Get out!” My bellow popped her eyes out of her head. “Get out right now.”
She scrambled off the bed.
“No, you stay,” Cairo barked at her. “And you.”
The world spun. In a blink, I was hanging off his shoulder—pounding his back in the midst of being carried off.
“Put me down, you cheating piece of shit. If you touch her, they’ll never find your corpses! Put me down,” I shrieked.
Cairo hauled me into Roan’s room and over to his bed. I had no idea why until I heard a faint click. A cool metal bite encircled my ankle.
“Cairo!”
The guy flipped me on my back, plopping me on the bed I was now handcuffed to. With that, he strolled right out.
“Come back here! Cairo, I swear, if you sleep with her, you’ll regret it for the rest of a very short life.”
I shouted and raged at the shared wall all through the night. None of the other guys came in to free me. Legend was likely getting a kick out of the karma, while the others were thinking I’d carry out my many violent, graphic threats.
All night I screamed and threw everything in reach at the wall. It was the only thing I could do. I was afraid if I stopped, the tears beating behind my eyes would drag me deeper than the river under Chaney Bridge ever could.
JACQUES
I sipped my smoothie in silence, eyes fixed on the same sight everyone else at the dining table was looking at.
Ivy slammed around the kitchen, white-knuckling a large knife she needed to open the package of bacon, but certainly did not need now that she was making eggs.
Cairo kicked back next to me, looking entirely too cool for someone unlikely to see tomorrow.
“One of us should probably take that away from her,” Legend mused.
Bang!
Ivy flung the pan in the direction of the sink. It bounced out and clattered on the floor. She paid it no mind in favor of banging the drawers open and shut.
“You first,” Roan said.
“Why did you free her in the first place?” Cairo breezed.
His guest left two hours before. I watched her go from the living room. I had woken up early and gone downstairs, away from Ivy’s shouting, to mentally sort through the information I collected on the seven out of nine on my list. It was Thursday. Our last day to finalize a plan to either rescue Sheriff Jack, or kidnap the members of one of Hunter’s Crest’s richest families.
Roan shrugged. “I wanted to see what she’d do to you.”
It wasn’t hard to answer why people were tempted to beat Roan unconscious.
Ivy stepped out of the kitchen, snapping five heads up. She carried a plate of bacon and eggs... and that knife.
Spines stiff, we didn’t say a word as she went back and forth to set a plate down in front of Roan, Legend, and then Arsenio, accompanying each one with a kiss on the cheek. “Here you are, baby.”
She returned for the last plate, and narrowed on Cairo. She approached fast, raising him half out of his seat. “Here.” The plate went flying, crashing on the table and tipping half the contents on his lap. “Choke on it.”
He chuckled with a bit of egg decorating his nose. “Thanks ever so, sweetie.”
A fierce growl was her reply. Ivy went into the kitchen and finally dumped the knife in the sink. We didn’t resume conversation until she stomped up the stairs.
“We’ve lapsed on our pet’s training,” Cairo said, brushing off his pants. He wisely pushed his plate aside. “Jacques, we’ve got one day left. You said you’d have something by now. Who’s in the Black Letter Crew?”
“Out of the seven I’ve gotten to so far, I can eliminate two. I had to go back in and recall the information, but the night Rainey de Souza was killed was the same night as Stacy Becker’s party. Those two were there.”
“How do you know they didn’t duck out early? You weren’t watching two random guys all night.”
“Because when I saw them, they were passed out drunk on the couch. I doubt they collected themselves and became coherent enough to murder a girl and chase the other through the woods an hour later.”
Cairo inclined his head, accepting this. “That’s two out of seven. Who are the other five? Let’s stop fucking around and bring them in for a real chat.”
“We’re not at that stage yet. I’ll find out what I need to know about the final two in”—I checked my watch—“three hours. After that, I’ll have a clear picture of who I’m dealing with. When I know who to move on first, I’ll pick them up.”
“Three hours. That’s all you have.”
“That’s all I need.”
Arsenio pushed away from the table. “Then, we’re good. We’re not making that trip to Hunter’s Crest after all.”
I didn’t reply. Finishing the last of my drink, I washed out my cup and headed out the door, returning my mind to the train of thoughts Ivy and her knife interrupted.
Yes, Mia Collins and Roderick Murphy were saved suspicions by my memory. That left the five I did get to, like Zara Singh. In that moment as a hurt, moaning man mewled at her feet, there was the briefest flash in her eyes where I saw... nothing at all.
No concern. No shock. No compassion. No empathy.
Zara could’ve been looking at a gum wrapper on the sidewalk for all the emotion reflected in her dark-brown pools. Then, just like that, it all flicked back on as if she remembered faking human emotions was required to fit in.
Then there was Jackson Hyde, the one who was abused by his aunt’s boyfriends. He did not have a tight-knit group of friends or loving parents. The guy wasn’t exactly a loner. He regularly attended the school anime club and got on well enough with the other members, according to what I dug up. But he didn’t have a girlfriend, boyfriend, or even a close friend he hung out with on a regular basis.
Arranging another accident in front of him wasn’t worth the two hundred dollars. I had no doubt he’d keep walking like it wasn’t his problem. Instead, I went with the direct approach and broke into his dorm room while he was at the aforementioned anime club.
He had a single room and the cheap lock that was on all the doors. I was in without much effort. The look inside his private world was eye-opening. Nothing so obvious as black envelopes on the nightstand, or a shrine to the Men of Honor in his closet, but when I walked out half an hour later, I knew what I needed to know.
So it was going through the list and finding ways to glimpse what they’d hidden successfully for years, or eliminating people who truly were as innocent as they looked.
Three hours later, Ivy and I walked out of class and went separate ways. She did sit next to me during the lecture, huffing and glaring at me as if being Cairo’s oldest friend somehow gave me control over his actions. It barely gave me insight into them.
I couldn’t begin to guess what he was doing bringing that woman into our house and flaunting her in front of Ivy. Somehow, he’d gone from wanting nothing to do with her to wanting to hurt her, and fuck knows what caused the switch.
I left the poli-sci building and crossed campus, coming up the back way to Psychology. A woman in an orange dress and matching shoes loitered by the steps.
“Ah, there you are. I’ve got what you asked for.” The teaching assistant handed over a stack of papers. They disappeared into my shoulder bag. “You were right. I told the professor it was a quick, ten-minute quiz to test my thesis, and he waved me on without a fight. But I don’t understand,” she said, studying me. “What good are any of these answers to you? What kind of animal are you? Are you an alarm clock or wake-up-on-your-own-time person? Who’s your favorite Doctor Who villain?
“It was all totally random.”
“I’m testing a thesis of my own. Studying law is also the study of human behavior. You’ve got to understand how people think to get twelve random jurors on your side. Having you ask your class to do this saved me tracking down twenty-five participants myself. For that”—I handed over her money—“two hundred as agreed.”
“Thank you very much,” she replied, pleased. “Next time you need a favor, don’t hesitate to text me.”
I left, taking the quizzes home. Not the Bedlam Boy house, but my mother’s home. That time of day she’d be in court, and I needed peace and quiet while I put the last pieces of the puzzle together.
Mother’s two-story French country-style home was as immaculate as ever. The lawn neatly trimmed. The rose bushes tended. The smell of fresh linen air freshener and bleach wafting over me when I stepped inside.
I passed into the marble-and-steel kitchen, and dumped every test other than two in the trash. My next stop was in the living room. I dropped on the couch, reading through the seemingly random answers.
Giving them the actual questions to test for sociopathy would’ve been a waste of time. If they were any kind of intelligent sociopath, they’d lie. No, the only way was to disguise the questions within other questions.
Are you aggressive?became What kind of animal are you?
Choosing a crocodile over a harmless little bunny answered that question.
Asking if they woke up when they wanted or set an alarm checked off another box too. We were college students with classes, internships, campus jobs, and interviews. We all had an alarm clock, and anyone who didn’t wasn’t too concerned with other people’s time, or sticking to their commitments.
And you both wrote that you’re wake-up-on-your-own-time people.
I moved on to the next question: Who’s your favorite Doctor Who villain?
A risky one if they didn’t watch the show, but both wrote an answer, so the risk paid off. Back when Ivy thought she was her sci-fi-loving sister, she went on about the show and the different creatures from the good guys to the bad. There were villains that didn’t actually kill or hurt anyone. There were villains that only killed when they were under someone’s control. There were villains that killed out of a warped belief they were doing good.
And then there were villains who slaughtered out of nothing but pure hate and enjoyment.
Their answers were the final two on that list: the villains without remorse.
I went through the rest of the answers to the sociopath test they didn’t know they’d taken, and one test fluttered to the floor as I focused on the last one—the one.
Twelve for twelve, they answered every single one correctly, or incorrectly under the circumstances. I traveled back up to the name. A name that out of all nine, did not surprise me.
I couldn’t yet be sure about the other eight but—
You,I thought, eyes narrowing. You’re in the Black Letter Crew.
ARSENIO
I stopped to give Ivy a slice of mango, then continued my chopping. She was spread out on the kitchen table—naked and covered in my dinner. As I explained to her, since she broke a plate that morning, she had to be mine.
“Jacques hasn’t come home,” she said. “Shouldn’t we be worried?”
“He usually takes off to get some space when he’s thinking about something that actually taxes his genius, but he is cutting it close this time. He was supposed to give us a name hours ago. Whoever we need to interrogate, I’ll give the Black Letter Crew some credit and assume they’re not easy to break. We need to get Sharpe’s location from them before the decision is made for us, and we leave tomorrow for the tournament.”
“Do you really think their plan is to kill the sheriff whether or not you get rid of the Ellises?”
“Do you think that’s their plan?” I finished prepping the avocado and lined the slices down her chest. I enjoyed cooking. Of all the activities my mother forced on me to channel my anger, this was the most effective. And with the addition of Ivy, I was finding a whole new interest in the culinary arts. “You know Cavendish. If anyone can guess how he taught his acolytes to think, it’s you. What are the sheriff’s odds of making it out of this if we don’t get to him first?”
She turned away, gazing at the opposite wall. “Slim. If you don’t get rid of Steven, Micah, and Jeremy, he won’t live to the weekday, and I don’t doubt that for a second. This is a test. A grim and gruesome test to see if they can use him to control their new Bedlam Boy action figures.
“If you disobey them, it’s just proof Sheriff Jack isn’t enough of an incentive. They’ll kill him and grab someone you guys will do anything for. Which leaves you no better off than you are now, except Cairo loses a father.
“If you do follow their orders, they won’t have a reason to kill Sheriff Sharpe now. He’s useful. He can keep being useful while the Black Letter Crew needs you to do their dirty work. But the second they no longer need that...” She trailed off to eat a piece of avocado.
That was fine. I could fill in the rest myself. “They will kill him. Then they’ll come after all of us. All of their enemies swept off the playing field.”
“It’s what Cavendish would do.”
“If the suicidal bastard hadn’t ordered you to set him on fire. Still no insight into why he decided to die?”
She shook her head. “Now that I have my memory back, I’m sure there was an ulterior motive. I just don’t know what it could be.”
“Perfect thing to ask Dante and his buddies once Jacques tracks them down.”
“If he doesn’t come through in time, will you really go through with your plan? Kidnapping the Ellises, faking their deaths, holding them hostage until you free the sheriff?”
“You just laid out our options. According to you, we don’t have a choice.”
“I’m still hoping it doesn’t come to that.”
I bent down, helping myself to a chunk of mango nestled on her right breast. She made a soft noise as I closed on her nipple and scraped it between my teeth.
“I have no idea what to say to Mr. Ellis to get him to speak to me alone,” she continued when she recovered. “And his sons won’t want anything to do with me.” Ivy blew out a breath. “But I’ll figure it out. As badly as I want to beat Jeremy and Micah for what they did to Roan, what I want more is to get us out from under Dante’s hold. An unseen enemy has too much power.”
“Enough about this. I’m fucking you now.”
“Now? But I’m covered in fruit and avocado.”
“And you taste delicious.”
Naturally, Ivy had no more protests, and my plate became my sex toy.
We messed around in the kitchen for hours, then I took my meal upstairs and messed with her up there. It wasn’t until she was softly breathing underneath me, wrapped around like a garland, that I recalled everyone came home and walked past us while we were having our fun on the table. Everyone except Jacques.
Untangling myself from Ivy, I crossed the hall to Jacques’s room, shoved on the door, and peered at an empty bed. A glance at the clock read two in the morning.
Where the hell is he?
“YOU DON’T NEED TO TELLme he’s missing. I’ve been after him since he blew me off yesterday morning.” Cairo loaded his golf clubs in Legend’s trunk.
The tournament started in two and a half hours. We were done waiting for Jacques. The decision had been made for us. We had to go to Hunter’s Crest and turn Steven, Jeremy, and Micah’s night into a bad one.
“He was looking for members of the Black Letter Crew,” Legend said. He was the only one of us that didn’t look idiotic in that polo-and-khakis getup. “I’m thinking he found them.”
Silence pressed in on us.
“If they have him, we need to do something.” Ivy slammed out of the house. “You’re not going to know anything until the mail arrives, and that won’t be today. We can’t sit around doing nothing if they really have him.”
“We can’t sit around doing nothing because if we do, my old man is dead,” Cairo replied.
Ivy shot him a withering look. She had not forgiven or forgotten.
“We go on with the plan, but Roan stays here,” he continued. “Jacques was supposed to play while you caddied. They’re not going to let you walk about with a bag of clubs doing nothing, so you’ll stay, find him, then bring the bastard to the club when he finally decides to show up.”
“I wasn’t only going to hold a bag. I’m supposed to cause a distraction in the kitchen and pull as many guards away from the east door.”
“We’ll improvise,” he barked. “But it won’t matter because you’ll find him before then. Let’s go.”
We split up—half going to Legend’s car and half climbing into the gift I bought myself over the holidays. It wasn’t my father’s Chevrolet Corvette, and for that I was still tempted to hunt the Crows down and make Jeremy piss himself crying on a stake again.
We all made for the cars except for Roan... and Ivy.
“I should stay and help him look,” she announced. “I don’t play my part until tonight. Until then, I... I know what those guys do to people. If Jacques is with them right now, I have to get to him—”
“If I’m with who?”
Five necks twisted, landing on the cool and collected prodigy walking down the sidewalk. Wait— I squinted. Not so cool and collected.
Jacques was wearing the rumpled version of the clothes he’d worn the day before. Mud decorated his shoes, and red bled into his eyes telling of how much sleep he’d gotten the night before.
None.
“Where were you?” Cairo asked, shoving out of the car.
“Listen—”
“We’re out of time. Did you find the five or not—?”
“Listen,” Jacques growled. “I found three I’m uncertain of, and one I’m not. They’re one of them, I know it, and I looked for them all day and all night. They’re nowhere! If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were on to me, but it’s not possible. I was careful.”
Boop. Boop.
“Who are you talking about?” Legend asked. “Their name, Jacques.”
“You’re not going to believe this. It’s—”
Boop!
Sound blared in my ear, spinning me around. Bellowing, I jumped out of the way as the car rocketed up the curb.
“Arsenio Creed, Jacques Stone, Legend St. James, Roan Banks, and Cairo Sharpe.” Davidson heaved out of his police car while two more rolled up, pinning us in on both sides. “Put your hands up and get on your knees slowly. You’re under arrest.”
“What?” Ivy screeched. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Davidson didn’t even look at her. He trained his gun between my eyes—the grin tugging his lips clear as day. “Don’t make this difficult, mayor’s boy. Get those hands up.”
Moving only my eyes, I gazed around at the officers whipping their guns back and forth between Roan, Cairo, Legend, Jacques, and Ivy. We outnumbered them, but they’d squeeze off a few shots if we attacked, and then we wouldn’t outnumber them at all.
Slowly, I raised my hands. “Officer Davidson, there seems to be some mistake. We haven’t committed any crime.”
He belly-laughed. “You said that with the best straight face, Creed. Very believable, but I’m afraid your mommies aren’t getting you out of this one. We’ve got evidence, witnesses, video. The five of you will be breathing stale prison air for two life sentences.”
“Evidence and witnesses to what?”
That tugging grin morphed into a full-blown, shit-eating smirk. “The murder of Scott Cavendish.”
My brow cracked. I was not expecting that.
“Sheriff Sharpe should’ve never been in charge of that case, considering his son was the main suspect. I smelled a rat from the beginning. When I took over, I investigated properly and the evidence led exactly where I knew it would. It’s over, boys. Your free rein in this town is over.” His finger twitched on the trigger. “I said on your knees. Hands behind your head.”
“No. Wait!” Ivy lurched forward, swinging three weapons to her.
“Stop! Don’t move!” we shouted.
Jacques caught her, snapping her to his chest. He bent his head, whispering something in her ear. The officer grabbed and pulled him away, forcing him onto his knees.
We all dropped—folding our hands behind our heads and getting cuffed in front of a gathering crowd. One by one we were loaded into the car. Ivy’s pale figure was the last thing we saw as we turned the corner.
It was a silent ride to the police station—for us. Davidson kept up a steady string of triumphant chatter about how he solved the town’s most notorious case, and that the acting part in acting sheriff would be removed after everyone found out that Jack Sharpe hid evidence and tried to let his murderous son and his friends go free.
He kept up his bullshit all through fingerprinting, photographs, and shoving us into the small-town station’s cramped cell.
I faced him as the bars slammed shut. “I don’t understand this,” I said, not letting my voice carry. “He gave us instructions we had every intention of carrying out. Why tell us to go to that party if he was just going to have you pull this? What was the point?”
Davidson laughed. “You really don’t understand, do you?” He glanced over his shoulder, then turned his smile on all of us. “Nothing has changed. The plan is still for you to sacrifice the Ellises tonight, or the sheriff dies. Too bad the five of you never made it to Hunter’s Crest. You got caught up in some legal trouble and the clock ran out on Jack Sharpe.”
My eyes sharpened. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You’re supposed to be intelligent, Creed. Do you need me to spell it out for you? I don’t give a shit about Steven Ellis or his sons. On the contrary, I’m quite fond of the man. He intends to see me live the life that I’m meant to. I”—he thumped his chest—“should’ve been the sheriff of this town. I should’ve been mayor. But you know what? I’ll settle for stepping up in Jack’s place until it’s time for me to move to my obscenely large mansion on a private island with my wife and two mistresses.”
“The mistresses are for her, yes? Because no way that woman can stand having your wrinkled one-inch dick anywhere near her.”
His smirk flickered. “Reduced to penis jokes? Pathetic.”
“Why not? You don’t think I’m taking you seriously, do you? You arrested us on campus. It’s all over school by now, which means your boss knows we didn’t back out of the plan. You screwed it up.”
Davidson shrugged. “Changes nothing. He can’t get to either of us here, and once you five are transferred to the correction facility upstate, you’ll be useless to him. As will the sheriff. I, on the other hand, am vital to him and his plans for Bedlam. I’m the fucking sheriff. I make his crimes go away. I bring his victims to him.”
Confirming that it was you who lured Jack Sharpe into Dante’s trap.
“He’ll be pissed about this, but he’ll get over it. Meanwhile, you’ll still be in prison and Sharpe will still be dead.”
My expression didn’t change. “Dante doesn’t seem like a think-ahead kind of guy, but he does seem like the kind who values loyalty and orders. You’ve proven today that you’re a self-serving piece of shit that’ll turn on him whenever it suits you. Be honest,” I said, dropping to a whisper. “You’re never making it to that island.”
Something flashed in Davidson’s eyes—too fast for me to read. “Get comfortable, boys. You’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”
“We’ll see. I’ll take that phone call now.”
He walked off, laughter floating over his shoulder. “Did I forget to mention? The phone’s broken.”
I watched him go until he disappeared into Jack Sharpe’s office. Cairo was a silent, shadowed figure in the corner.
“What did he say?” he asked when I sat next to him. His voice was entirely too calm.
“He said we’re screwed, Sharpe. We’re not getting out of this one.”
“Maybe,” Jacques said from where he shared the wall with the toilet. “Davidson didn’t get all of us.”
IVY
I stood there long after the sirens faded and the onlookers found something better to do.
Everything had changed. The tournament would start in a couple of hours. There was no point in me going up there by myself. I wasn’t about to disable the cameras, knock out three grown men, and haul their bodies out a side door by myself without being seen.
Jacques knew that too, which is why he told me what to do.
But how?Helplessness paralyzed me, keeping me pinned to the sidewalk. Jacques searched all day and night and couldn’t find them. How am I supposed to?
My phone buzzed. I scrambled for it, hoping it was one of the guys using their one phone call to tell me what the hell was going on.
I checked the screen. Paris.
“Rainey? Rainey,” she cried. “Where are you? What’s going on? Someone just texted me that my brother was arrested.”
“He was,” I croaked. “Officer Davidson arrested him— Arrested all the Bedlam Boys for the murder of Scott Cavendish.”
“What?! That’s insane. They were framed. Cops figured that out a long time ago. Did Davidson up and decide to stop doing actual police work and just take the easy way out to solve the big case?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past that man,” I said, lips twisting. “He didn’t do any police work in solving my grandmother’s murder either.” The corrupt piece of crap had other plans.
“Oh my gosh. I’m sorry, I have to call my mom. We need to get Cairo a lawyer. Ugh, I wish I had Jack’s number,” she cried. “Why did he choose now of all times to take a vacation?”
“Paris, before you go, I’m looking for someone who might be able to help...”
I told her.
“Oh, I do know where they are. Amy’s there too. It’s some kind of sorority bonding thing to break in the new pledges. They kept it secret because they’re all blowing off classes, and the sorority has already been busted once for a hazing gone wrong during one of these bonding trips.”
No wonder Jacques couldn’t find her.
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Thank you, Paris,” I said as the notification chime sounded in my ear. “This’ll be over soon. I promise. The guys won’t go down for something they didn’t do.”
“No, they won’t. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks.” I hung up and went straight to Legend’s car. The keys were in the ignition, waiting for the trip that wasn’t happening. “No, but we’ve got somewhere else to be.”
I plugged the address in the GPS and followed it out of town. My mind churned the whole way. I didn’t fault Jacques’s genius, but he said he eliminated five, was uncertain of three, and knew without a doubt the final one was in the Black Letter Crew.
How?What did he discover that made him so sure, and why did that stupid oaf Officer Mars have to pull him away before he could tell me more than a name?
What if he’s wrong and I spend precious time my guys didn’t have by interrogating an innocent?
What if he’s right and it all falls on me to rescue the sheriff before the clock strikes seven on Steven Ellis’s Bring Back Crystal Canyon party?
I glanced at the clock. Less than eleven hours to do what Cairo couldn’t do in weeks. And if I fail and his father dies, leggy blondes won’t be the only thing between us. Jack Sharpe’s death would break us for good.
I slammed on the gas. If it ended between me and that cheating bastard, it damn sure wouldn’t be because of the even bigger bastard that fathered him. This ends tonight.
The Black Letter Crew finally pays for what they’ve done.
I held on to that conviction as I turned off the main road. Between Bedlam and a town three hours to the east, a lake cut through the hills. Someone took advantage of that years ago and built luxury cabins along the piers and scenic views. It’d be nice for the pledges if they were coming to this spot to bond, but I severely doubted anything so tame was happening.
I turned the final corner, rumbling down to the cabin on the end where I parked at the end of the line of cars. The place was gorgeous—proving someone in this fraternity had money. A beautiful gray stone paradise with a wraparound porch, sloped roof, and three floors. I walked past the tree line and spotted something down by the lake.
Two rows of pledges doing jumping jacks outside on a chilly morning. If I was hearing what they were shouting correctly, they were on number eighty-two.
Bonding, my ass.
I squinted, but couldn’t make out any faces. Certainly couldn’t tell if who I was looking for was down there. Steeling myself, I approached the house. Climbing the steps, I saw a couple of sisters through the window—kicking back playing a card game and sipping beers in front of a fire. One of them was Amy.
I knocked on the window, waving when she looked up. Amy pulled a face—looking around like she was making sure she wasn’t the one in the wrong place. She got off the couch and the door swung open.
“Rainey? What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Amy. Sorry to crash. Paris told me I could find you guys here.”
She didn’t move from her spot in the entrance—blocking the entrance. “Why did you need to find us? What’s going on?”
“Cairo and the guys were arrested for the Ruckus night murder.”
Her eyes bugged. “Wait, what? Arrested? Paris must be freaking out. And you,” she cried. “Are you okay? What do we do?”
“Officer Davidson”—I would never call that man sheriff—“said they have evidence and witnesses, but it’s not true, Amy. They didn’t do anything. The murder went viral and threw a spotlight on the town and Ruckus Royale. We think Davidson is getting pressure from above him to solve the case and prove we’re not a lawless outpost. Trouble is he’s an idiot who’d rather snatch up the convenient suspects, and now Sheriff Sharpe isn’t here to stop him.”
She bobbed her head. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Anyone with sense knows they wouldn’t kill a man in front of hundreds of witnesses and their camera phones. What is Davidson thinking?”
“I don’t know, but I won’t let them go down for this. I was thinking there was another witness that night who can tell the police what she saw, and what she didn’t see—which is Cairo burying a gas tank under Scott Cavendish.”
Amy caught on immediately. “Oooh, good idea. Come in, she’s upstairs.”
Just like that, I was in. But that was the easy part. The part where I get her away from all the witnesses is where it gets hard.
Amy took me up a grand staircase to the third floor. I skimmed the fancy sconces, plush runner rug, and expensive hardwood floors. Granted I didn’t know anything about her past, but this bitch certainly wasn’t living the hard life now. What reason did she have to run around with the Black Letter Crew? Was all this really about money? Did the last of my family have to die for a couple of shiny rocks in the dirt?
Amy pushed open a door on the end, surprising the person teasing her already perfect hair in the mirror. Quinn locked onto my reflection and scowled.
“What are you doing here? What are you both doing here?”
“Quinn, you’re not going to believe—”
“Thanks, Amy,” I cut in. “Do you mind giving us a minute?”
“Sure, no problem. I’ve got to call Paris anyway. See if she needs my dad.”
Amy’s dad was a lawyer, and would definitely come in handy right now, but—
He won’t do as much as you.
Quinn cocked a brow when I closed us in. “What is this? What could you possibly have to say to me?”
“I need your help.”
“My help?” She laughed. “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would I help you?”
“Quinn, I know we’ve gotten into it in the past, but I never had a problem with you.” I dropped my voice, eyes growing big and pleading. “I only snapped back because you kept coming for me. I never stole the Bedlam Boys away from you. They stole me. After that whole thing with embarrassing Jacques in class, they gave me a choice between being their pet, or their target.”
Rolling her eyes, she finally faced me. “Again. What does that have to do with me?”
Quinn Cunningham was beauty itself. Soft, pouty lips. Skin that never knew a blemish. Perfect figure and cute designer clothes to drape it in. It was hard to believe the outside was just a pretty wrapper for a dead, shriveled-up soul.
But if Jacques is right, you killed my sister.
I balled my fist behind my back, careful to keep the rage from bleeding onto my face.
“I knew they weren’t good guys,” I went on, “but over the last couple weeks, I... I’ve seen things. O-overheard things. Things that scared me, Quinn.”
The nasty glare lessened around the edges. “What do you mean?”
“Intense stuff about doing whatever it takes to protect the town and stop Foundry. A few weeks ago, they didn’t know I was in the kitchen. Cairo and Arsenio came downstairs saying they’d have to get rid of Adriel and the new Crows permanently because Foundry wasn’t getting the hint. Then Cairo replied, that’ll be hard without my dad to cover our tracks.
“I mean, I’m not crazy, right? Doesn’t that sound like they’re planning on doing something horrible to those guys, but they’re worried what’ll happen if Sheriff Jack isn’t here to cover their crimes?”
She folded her arms, eyeing me with a strange expression. “Well, like you said, they’re not good guys. But why are you coming to me?”
“Because it’s no small thing to betray the Bedlam Boys. And because... I found something.”
“Found something?”
“After that comment about the sheriff, I went looking through their rooms while they were in class. I found something at the back of Arsenio’s closet and—and—” I tossed my head. “At this point, I’m spinning out and reading dark intention in everything they say and do. Look, I came because I can’t spend another night in that house like this. I either need to figure out if they’re lying to me, or let this go and trust them.
“You dated them for longer than me. You know them. Stayed with them. Am I imagining things? Everyone knows not to cross them, but they don’t really go around hurting people, do they?”
Quinn stared at me for a beat, then her eyes narrowed to slits. “What’s your game, de Souza? Why are you really here?”
“You know what? Fuck this,” I cried, throwing my hands up. “I knew it was a mistake coming to you.”
“Wait,” she barked, pulling me up short with my hand on the knob. “Just wait a second. What did you find in Arsenio’s closet?”
“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
“Try me.”
Sighing, I summoned my best performance. “I don’t know how else to describe it other than... a box of trophies. It’s all this weird, random stuff, Quinn, but I have to ask why he’d keep it, and more importantly, why he’s hiding it.” I clutched my forehead. “But if it is just a box of junk, how stupid am I confronting him with it? They’ll dump me for spying on them, and then I’ll be put back on the target list.”
I pinned her with a look. “So, I ask you again, am I making something out of nothing, or are these guys dangerous? I have enough going on in my life and too many people I can’t trust, to add my boyfriends to the list.”
“No,” she said after a spell. “You’re not making something out of nothing.”
Dropping my head, I slumped against the door. “So, that’s it, then. I have to go. I have to leave them.”
“That’s not what I said. You don’t break up with the Bedlam Boys, they break up with you. No exceptions. Unless you plan on leaving town—”
“I’m not going anywhere. This is my home. No one is driving me away.”
She inclined her chin. “Well, then you need something to protect you. Where’s this box? Is it still at the house?”
“No, it’s in the car. I brought it to show you in case you didn’t take me seriously.”
“Show me,” she said, a little too quickly. “If it is what you think, it’s the perfect blackmail. It’ll keep the Bedlam Boys off your back for the next hundred years they’ll hold a grudge.”
“I hope so.” I made like I was going out. “Actually, we don’t have to go all the way to the car. I can just tell you what’s in it. There’s a hair bow, and a—”
“No, it’s better for you to show me. I might recognize something.”
Yeah, like an opportunity to give your boss, Dante, more leverage over the Bedlam Boys. Maybe this wouldn’t be the hard part.
“I parked out front.”
I led the way, not saying any more lest I overplay my hand. I dangled a chance to make the Bedlam Boys suffer, and she followed me right out the door. If there really was a box, I had no doubt Quinn was scheming too... to take it from me.
Together we tromped past the jumping pledges and left the pretty lake house behind. I rounded the car, beeping the trunk open. “It’s here.”
Quinn came up next to me, again a little too quickly. “Where?”
I lifted out the golf clubs and pointed to the mahogany box waiting underneath. “Do you think you will recognize something? Will this box get me away from them?”
“Maybe,” she said, snatching it out. “But you should leave it with me for a few days, so I can make sure—”
I swung, bringing the gold club down in a graceful arc on her head.
“Uh.” Quinn wobbled on her feet and tipped, falling face-first into the trunk. I helped her the rest of the way, shoving her legs inside.
“Don’t worry. This trunk comfortably fits two people.” I dumped the clubs in after her. “You’ll be fine.”
LEGEND
“Hey. Hey! I know you can hear me,” I shouted. “We get a phone call. You either hand over your fucking cell phone, or my lawyers will tie you up in so many civil rights suits, you’ll burst into tears whenever you hear the word motion.”
“Shut up,” snapped one of the officers.
“You three are idiots. Everyone saw you arrest us. The lawyers are on the way. Do you want them to hear you were good to us, or that you beat us to shit and then refused our phone call?”
“Beat you? We didn’t lay a hand—”
“Roan.”
My love and boyfriend of five years punched me dead in the face. Blood burst in my mouth.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing!” Officer Mars scrabbled out of his seat.
“Oh shit, you broke my nose too.”
Roan reared back.
“Stop! Fuck’s sake,” he cried, rushing the bars. “Get away from him. Grab the wall. All of you.”
Smirking, Roan backed up and faced the wall as ordered. Arsenio, Cairo, and Jacques followed suit.
“Crazy, lunatic thugs.” Mars muttered to himself as he fiddled with the keys. “You’re going to an interrogation room where you can’t cause any trouble. And yes, you’ll get your damn phone call.”
Mars hauled me out none too gently and dragged me across the station. He shoved me in a seat and tossed his phone at me.
“Thank you very much. I’ll also take a bottled water and first aid kit. Wouldn’t want my lawyer to hear you denied me medical treatment.”
He rattled the two-way glass slamming the door.
I laughed, but only for a second. There was nothing funny about the situation we were in.
What now? How do we get out of this?
The person we called when we were in this kind of trouble was Jack Sharpe. Fat lot of good he’d do us now. Calling my father would get me the same lawyer who I knew had to be on their way. Calling Jacques’s mom wouldn’t help either. If we were at the point of needing a friendly judge, we already failed.
I have to call someone who can get us out of here tonight. Someone willing to go against an acting sheriff and his brain-dead deputies. Someone who owes us a favor?
I lifted my head, meeting my reflection’s grim expression. No, not a favor.
Aware of the fact Mars was likely listening from the other side of the mirror, I chose my words carefully as I typed in the number and listened to it ring out.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
“It’s Legend St. James.”
“What? No shit? What are you doing calling me?” Adriel Burton asked, snickering. “Heard you got into some legal trouble. No way you’ve got time for a chat.”
“I don’t have much time, so it’s a good thing you already know why I’m calling.”
Yeah, I had the guy’s number. I had his home address, license plate, and the name of the bar he meets his Hunter’s Crest girlfriend in every weekend. The bar for dates with his Bedlam girlfriend was local.
“You were sent here to do a job—”
“I’m not—”
“Save it,” I growled. “I just said I don’t have time. Here’s the bottom line: help us out, and I’ll double whatever he’s paying you.”
Adriel snorted. “Please. I’ve seen this movie before. Bluffs don’t impress me.”
“It’s not a bluff. As soon as my lawyer gets here, she’ll wire half into whatever bank account you tell her. You in or out, Burton? ’Cause I know a few other people who’d love to get rich today.”
“Then why didn’t you call them? I’m not doing a job for Ellis. I’ve said a hundred fucking times that I’ve got nothing to do with—”
“Okay, cool. We’ve got nothing to talk about, then.”
“Hold up— Wait,” he burst out, stopping my finger an inch above end.
“Yes?”
“I don’t admit to any fucking job for Steven Ellis.” Sounded like the words were pulled out of him. “But if you want to pay me two hundred grand, why the hell would I stop you? What do you need me to do?”
“My boys and I have plans tonight. We’re supposed to be there by seven.”
“And? Wait,” he said. “Is this being recorded?”
“Only my end.”
“Then cough when I’m close. You got somewhere to be and you’re not waiting till you make bail.”
I coughed.
“You need me and my boys to break you out.”
Cough.
“How many officers?”
I coughed three times. “I told you to get me water,” I called at the mirror.
“And in exchange for this, you’re going to pay me two hundred grand, and owe me a favor that I can collect at any time. No questions asked.”
I gritted my teeth, hesitating. This shit was working for Steven Ellis no matter what he said. This favor would hurt us—fatally. But so would going down for murder and Jack Sharpe ending up in the ground.
But is it worth it? Survive one threat just long enough to get taken down by the other.
“Hello?” Adriel sang. “I said to cough when I’m close, and I nailed that. This doesn’t happen without my money and my favor. So, let’s hear it, St. James.”
Ivy was right. Sometimes the only allies you had were enemies.
I coughed.