Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

by Box Set

  Wanting to change the subject, I asked, “Any news on that job you interviewed for?”

  She smiled. “Actually, it’s looking like it’s going to happen.”

  “That’s great.”

  “I know. I’m really excited about the possibilities.” A small frown turned down her mouth. “I’m concerned about you though, Courtney. Especially after what happened. You know, behind your work.”

  As much as I wished things could go back to how they were before the murder, I wasn’t about to let my problems hold Mom back from living her life. Besides, if she’s in another state, that would get her away from Dylan and his gang. “I’m sure it will be fine.” I forced a note of confidence in my voice, belying the way I really felt. Nothing was fine any more. “Do you have any idea when you’d be moving?”

  I must have sounded a little too eager, because she laughed and said, “I didn’t know you were so ready to be on your own. But that’s probably a good thing.” She bit her lip. “If they decide to hire me, I get the idea they’ll want me to start right away.”

  Mixed feelings swirled through me. I was glad she would be far away from danger, but also knew I’d miss her. It had been the two of us against the world for so long, it would be strange to not have her at my side. “How exciting.” Her news also meant I needed to get serious about where I would live and how I would afford it. But with my meeting that afternoon on my mind, I couldn’t think that far into the future just yet.

  She smiled. “A new adventure, right?”

  I nodded, then stood and went to the pantry where I selected a box of cereal and poured it into a bowl.

  “What do you have planned today, honey?” Mom asked.

  I glanced at her over my shoulder. “I have a paper I need to work on, and then I might get together with Shelby.” I hadn’t actually arranged anything with Shelby, but I needed to keep myself busy until it was time to meet with Dylan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “So what’s going on with you and Jack?” I asked Shelby as I sat on her bed early that afternoon. I’d worked on my paper all morning, then called Shelby to get together at her apartment for a girls’ chat.

  “I don’t know. He’s been kind of a jerk lately.” She curled her feet beneath her. “I might be over him.” Then she frowned. “I think he might be cheating on me.”

  Up until this point she’d ignored rumors that Jack wasn’t faithful to her, but I was glad she was beginning to see the light. “What are you going to do?”

  Her lips pursed. “I might break up with him.”

  This would be a momentous decision and I didn’t want to say anything to sway her one way or the other. Instead, I nodded.

  Then she looked at me like I had all the answers. “What do you think I should do?”

  I was in no position to give pointers on her love life, or anyone else’s for that matter. “I don’t know, Shelby.”

  “Come on, Court. I need some advice here.”

  I said the only thing that came to mind. “What does your gut tell you to do?”

  Her gaze floated upward as she pressed a finger against her chin. “Hmm. I don’t know yet.” Then she looked at me with a smirk. “I guess I’ll have to ask it.”

  I laughed. “Well, when it tells you, let me know.”

  “I will.” She swung her legs out from underneath her, stretching them across the comforter. “What about you and Tyler? What’s going on there?”

  I told her about our date the night before, ending with, “I’m really starting to like him.”

  “Awesome,” she said, although her tone didn’t seem to agree.

  “What?”

  “Now you and Tyler will be together and Jack and I will be done.”

  Tyler and I had only gone on a couple of dates. It was a little early to say we were going to be together. “So your gut’s saying to dump Jack?”

  Her voice came out in a monotone. “Maybe it is.”

  “If he’s not making you happy . . .” I let the sentence trail off, then wondered why I was giving advice.

  She sat up straighter. “I don’t want to think about Jack right now. I’d rather do something fun. Do you want to do something?”

  If I wanted to get to Elmwood Park before Dylan did, I would have to head over there soon. “I, uh, I can’t.”

  “Why not?” A smile curved her mouth. “Are you and Tyler going out?”

  I wasn’t great at lying, especially to her. “No.”

  “You said you finished your homework, so what is it?”

  With no ready excuse to give her, I was stumped. Maybe you should have her come with you. She can stay in the car while you talk to Dylan. If she’s right there, he wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt you. Would he?

  Did I want to risk Shelby’s safety? Would having her there be risking her safety? I didn’t know.

  Her eyes narrowed like she knew I was hiding something. Which I was. “What’s up, Court? Come on. Tell me.”

  The weight of my troubles made my shoulders sag. I had to tell someone. It was too much to carry alone. I knew that now. And I didn’t want to tell Mom. Not when she was one of the people Dylan had threatened. No, it would be better to tell a third party. A neutral party. Shelby.

  “You have to swear not to tell anyone, Shel.” Intensity radiated off me like a poisonous gas.

  Shelby’s face went serious and her voice softened. “Okay.”

  Am I making a mistake by telling her? Even if I don’t tell her everything? I hesitated. “I have to meet with someone this afternoon. And no one can know.”

  “Who? Who are you meeting with?”

  I chewed on my lower lip. “I don’t know if I should say.”

  “I’m coming with you of course.” She said it in a tone that made it clear she wouldn’t listen to any arguments.

  “It could be dangerous.”

  Her forehead wrinkled like she thought I was being dramatic. But I knew how truly dangerous Dylan was. He and his friends. “I’m still going,” she said.

  Somehow her insistence that she go took away the guilt I felt at potentially involving her.

  She stared at me “Is that it? Is that the big reveal?”

  Nowhere near. “There’s more.”

  “What?”

  “It’s . . . It’s about the murder.”

  She nodded. We both knew what murder I was talking about. “What about it?”

  “I know who did it.”

  Her eyes rounded and her mouth fell open. “What? Who?”

  “I . . . I can’t say.”

  She digested this. “But you told the police, right?”

  My head slowly pivoted from side to side. “I can’t, Shel.”

  “Why the heck not?”

  “He threatened me. Me and my mom.”

  She gasped and leapt from the bed, facing me as I sat on the edge of the bed. “You talked to him? To the murderer? Who is it anyway? What did he say exactly? When did you talk to him? Where? What did your mom say about it?”

  It felt so good to share my dilemma with someone else, but her questions were coming so fast and furious that I didn’t know where to begin. “Slow down, okay? Just slow down.”

  She released a loud sigh, ran her fingers through her hair, then dropped her arms to her sides. “Okay.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you,” she echoed in a soft voice that held a hint of hysterical laughter. “Don’t get all polite now, Court. Tell me exactly what happened.”

  “I told you before what I saw, but what I left out was that I saw the killer’s face. I know him, Shelby. I know the killer.”

  She didn’t say a word, but her expression said it all: This is insane.

  I nodded, because I completely agreed. “But the worst part is, he saw me too.”

  “You mean, he knows you saw him do it?”

  I closed my eyes as I nodded, then I met her gaze. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. And he warned me not to tell anyone it was him.”
r />   Her face took on a somber cast. “Who is it, Court? Can you tell me?”

  That was the one crucial piece of information I was not ready to share. The stakes were too high. “No. I can’t.”

  She nodded like she understood. “You said he talked to you. What did he say?”

  I repeated the conversation I’d had with Dylan in the school parking lot.

  “He wanted you to swear on your mother’s life?”

  “Yes.”

  “This guy sounds scary.” Her eyebrows pulled together. “Do I know him?”

  I sighed. “I can’t say one way or the other. Now stop asking.”

  “Okay, okay.” She sat on her bed, propping herself against the pillows. “Tell me this. How will he know if you tell the police? I mean, what if you tell them and they arrest him? Won’t you be safe then?”

  “Shelby, didn’t you hear what I told you? It’s not just him. I think he must be part of a gang. If something happens to him, the rest of them will come after me and my mom. I can’t take that chance. Don’t you see?”

  She was quiet for a minute. “Who are you meeting with this afternoon?”

  “I don’t want to say.”

  She gave me a look of exasperation. “Since I’m going with you, don’t you think I might see who it is?”

  That was true, but I didn’t have to tell her why I was meeting with Dylan. And I definitely wouldn’t tell her that he was the murderer. “Yes, you might see who it is. But then again, you might not.”

  “Why are you meeting with this person? Does this person know who the killer is too?”

  This was getting way too complicated. “Maybe you shouldn’t come.”

  “Oh no. I’m coming.”

  Her insistence was reassuring, but I still had misgivings. “If you come, you have to stay in the car the whole time, okay?”

  “Okay.” Her eyes narrowed like she was just saying that because I expected her to.

  “I mean it, Shel. The whole time. I don’t want him to think you know anything.”

  She barked a laugh. “I don’t know anything. You’ve hardly told me anything.”

  “You know enough. Believe me, you don’t want to know any more.”

  She stared at me like she was trying to decide if that was true. “Any other conditions?” she finally asked.

  “Just . . . don’t ask any more questions. Okay?”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  At three-thirty that afternoon, Shelby and I drove towards the park.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, clearly not able to resist asking questions.

  “Elmwood Park.”

  “That’s where you’re meeting this person?”

  I glanced at her, but didn’t reply.

  She threw her hands up. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop asking questions.”

  I’ll believe that when I see it.

  Once we arrived, I drove around the perimeter of the park, on the look-out for the gazebo where I was supposed to meet the person who left the message in my bedroom—the person I assumed was Dylan. Remembering the feeling I’d had when I’d found the note and known someone had been in my room, a small shiver cascaded through me.

  The gazebo came into sight. No one was sitting inside it.

  “Is that Dylan?” Shelby asked, her hand outstretched, pointing to two people throwing a frisbee.

  The pair were about a hundred yards away. I squinted in their direction as I slowed. “Yes. And I think that’s his younger brother.”

  “I wonder what he’s doing here.” Then she looked at me with wide eyes. “Is that who you’re meeting?”

  I pulled into a parking space—there were only a couple of other cars there—and shut off the engine. “I think so.” The gazebo lay between Dylan and me, about fifty yards away.

  “You think so?” She turned in her seat to stare at me. “Courtney, don’t you know who you’re meeting with?”

  I really didn’t want to get into the fact that I’d found a slip of paper in the sanctity of my bedroom and I didn’t know who had left it there, so I ignored her question and stared at Dylan and his little brother. Dylan had told me his brother was eleven, and as I watched the two of them play, I had an odd sense of disconnect between what I was seeing now and what I had seen in the alley behind my work.

  Dylan threw the frisbee to his brother, who totally missed it, and Dylan ran to him, then tackled him. A moment later they both stood up, laughing. Dylan patted his brother on the back and motioned for him to pick up the frisbee.

  This sweet big brother was out of sync with the man I’d seen stabbing Jeremy Owens to death.

  “If you’re not going to tell me anything,” Shelby said, startling me, “then why did you bring me?”

  I turned to her and laughed. “Bring you? You insisted.”

  “True. But still. How can I help you if you won’t let me?”

  I rested my hands on the steering wheel and stared at Dylan and his brother, then turned to Shelby. “I’ll tell you how you can help me. When I meet with him, you stay here and keep an eye on things. If anyone else shows up and looks like they’re approaching us, text me.”

  “So Dylan’s involved?” Her eyes grew wide. “Is he the killer?”

  Yes. “I’m just going to talk to him, okay? He might have some information that will help me.” Which was true. Just not in the way I made it sound. If Dylan explained what had happened that night and I agreed that he had a good reason to kill that man, perhaps I could go on keeping his secret without the guilt tearing me apart. Perhaps.

  “So he’s not the killer?”

  My heart pounded at her persistent questions. Lying really made me uncomfortable. “Will you keep an eye on things or not?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  As four o’clock approached, I saw Dylan check his phone, then hand his brother the frisbee and motion for him to leave. When his brother had crossed the park and was on his way, Dylan began walking toward the gazebo.

  Oh no. This is it.

  Sweat slicked my palms and I wiped my hands on my jeans.

  “There he is,” Shelby said.

  I didn’t move.

  “Are you going to talk to him or what?”

  I glanced at her. “Yes. Just give me a minute.” I took several deep breaths, put my phone on vibrate, then with a final glance at Shelby, I climbed out of my car. I slipped my phone into my back pocket and walked toward Dylan.

  I could see him through the slats of the gazebo. His back was to me as he sat on a bench. I looked in all directions, worried about other members of his gang showing up, but the only people I saw were people with small children who paid no attention to me.

  Tall trees shaded the area, making it a lovely place to rest and visit with friends. Too bad that wasn’t why I was there.

  Apparently Dylan heard me approaching, because when I reached the gazebo, he stood and turned to me. “Courtney. You came.” He wasn’t smiling. He didn’t seem anything like the carefree man I’d seen playing with his brother only minutes earlier.

  “Yeah.” I stood on the edge of the gazebo where the concrete met the thick green grass.

  Dylan stood eight feet away. He motioned for me to enter. “Do you wanna sit?”

  “Sure.” I stepped fully into the gazebo, then glanced toward my car, just to reassure myself Shelby wasn’t far.

  Dylan sat on the bench and I sat a few feet away.

  “You came into my bedroom last night.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No one answered the door,” he said, as if that was a good reason to break into my house.

  I stared at the ground as I tried to form the questions that would get me the answers I was after.

  “Why’d you bring your friend?” He glanced toward my car.

  I’d never seen him look our way, but I wasn’t surprised he noticed my car with Shelby inside. I looked at him. “I wasn’t sure who’d left the note in my room
.”

  He nodded. “What’d you want to talk to me about?”

  This is it. “About . . . you know, what happened.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “What about it?” Dylan asked.

  I thought about the information I’d discovered about the victim, that he was in a gang. “Are you in a gang, Dylan?”

  His mouth puckered, like he smelled something sour. “Yeah. Why?”

  The confirmation of my fears turned my heart into a jackhammer, and I looked around, certain his friends were about to jump out and kill me.

  “No one’s here,” he said. “It’s just us.” He stared at me. “Why do you want to know?”

  Because I need to know how much danger I’m in. Now I have my answer: A lot.

  “Would they really hurt me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “Or my mom?”

  He spoke without hesitation.“Yes.”

  The certainty in his voice sent a chill streaking up my spine.

  He gazed at me. “You haven’t told anyone what you saw, have you?”

  I thought about Shelby and what I’d revealed to her. Only that I knew who the killer was. Not who it was. “No.”

  He stared right at me. “Good. Keep it that way.”

  “Why though, Dylan? Why did you kill him?”

  “Like I told you before. It’s complicated.”

  The pressure to keep such important information to myself weighed on me, making me bold. “If you want me to keep this a secret, then I need to know why. I need to know it’s worth it.”

  His mouth curved into a smile of disbelief. “Keeping yourself and your mother safe isn’t reason enough?”

  Well, yeah. “Please. Tell me.”

  He held my gaze, sighed, looked away, then faced me again. “Jeremy Owens was supposed to kill my brother.”

  I pictured his eleven-year-old brother, throwing the frisbee back and forth, not a care in the world, being gunned down in the street. My heart lurched. “Your little brother?”