“Glad to hear it,” Cooper said, coming to wrap his arms around Lyla's and my shoulders. “Now, how about you lovely ladies head downstairs and fix some dinner for your pack.”
“What about your veggie lasagna?” I whined, my stomach growling at the mere mention of it.
He shrugged at me unapologetically.
“We got hungry.”
“Son of a—”
“I guess you'll remember not to be late next time,” he said with a wink. “Now, we'll finish up around here if you guys want to go and throw dinner number two together.”
“If by 'you guys' you mean Lyla, then yes. That sounds great.”
“Rubes,” he said with a laugh. “I know better than to leave you in charge of food preparation. We're hungry. We want to eat some time this century. Now, if we're in need of ordering takeout, then that's a totally different story.”
Lyla snickered beside me, but she cut it out when I flashed a murderous glance her way.
“Fine,” I pouted, throwing my hands in the air as I retreated from the room. “I'm the takeout bitch. I now know my place.”
“Aw, Rubes, don't take it so hard. You are the best takeout orderer in the history of takeout ordering.”
“Good to know I at least excel at it.”
“And many other things,” Cooper yelled at me while I made my way down the stairs, Lyla tight on my heels.
“Too bad none of those things get me very far in life either,” I shouted back.
“Yeah, attracting danger tends to be counterproductive to that endeavor.”
“Guess I better starting developing some new talents, because takeout isn't likely to help when that danger presents itself,” I mumbled to myself as I opened the apartment door.
If only the solutions to my problems were just a speed dial away.
Chapter 24
While Lyla cooked dinner, I unloaded all my goodies from our trip onto my laundry pile, methodically removing all the tags as I did. With only one sweater left to go, I heard my cell phone buzz in my purse, which I had tossed onto my bed. I removed the last tag and then made my way over to rummage through my bag and retrieve my phone. My alerts informed me of a new text message.
The number was unknown. I immediately hoped it was Gavin, letting me know that he had indeed received my message in time, but it wasn't.
Meet me at the Friendly Toast. Alan.
“What the fuck?” I mumbled aloud, utterly confused by what he was doing. My initial reaction was to call him and ask what it was about, but after the shenanigans with Kristy and the hang-ups, I thought better of it. There was clearly a reason why he hadn't texted from his own phone. He wanted to keep this from her.
With a sigh, I snatched my purse off the bed and headed down the hallway, stopping briefly at the kitchen where Lyla was hard at work cooking for the boys.
“I have to run out for a few minutes. I'll be right back. Do you need me to pick up anything while I'm out?”
“No. We're all set,” she replied. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Everything's fine. A friend just wants to meet up about something quickly. I should be back in no time.”
“And if Cooper asks?” she pressed, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“Tell him I'm with Alan.”
After a moment's pause, she nodded and turned her attention back to the pot on the stove in front of her. I grabbed my coat off the hook by the door and dashed down the stairs before anyone else could accost me prior to my escape. I wanted to meet with Alan and see what the emergency was.
I wondered if there had been a break in the case.
When I arrived at the restaurant, Alan was nowhere to be found. My heart jumped before I managed to calm myself. He hadn't set an exact time, or really any time at all. Maybe I wasn't even supposed to be there when I was. His text had lacked some necessary details.
And that wasn't like Alan.
I grabbed a booth in the back, facing toward the front of the place, and waited. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Just as I was pulling out my phone to call him, consequences be damned, in strode the tall detective. He spotted me immediately and made his way back to join me.
“What's with the mysterious text, Alan?” I said, throwing my purse back down onto the shiny red booth seating. Alan slid onto the seat across from me.
“I don't know who scans your phone, Ruby. I don't want Sean knowing any details about this. Not if I can help it, though I imagine you've spilled some of the beans. Strange how, not even a full day after I showed you that note, it went missing. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?” he asked, eyeing me like a seasoned detective.
“Maybe you misplaced it?” I offered, knowing damn well that Sean must have retrieved it just as he said he would. At least Alan was alive to grill me about it, which was far better than the alternative.
“Sure,” he scoffed, playing with the corner of the paper placemat. “Look, I'm not here to get into that. I came here to tell you that I figured out what that key goes to, and I'm heading down to Virginia to find out what McGurney was hiding behind the lock it opens.”
“Whoa, Alan. Bad idea. I think you may be out of your league on this one. Are you sure that it's safe for you to go poking around? I mean, maybe whoever killed McGurney already found whatever he stashed behind that lock you're so hellbent on opening.”
“Ruby,” he said condescendingly. “I get that you're surrounding yourself with some rather unsavory sorts that don't bat an eyelash at interfering with police investigations, tampering with evidence, and, more than likely, murdering anyone that gets in their way, but don't think I'm some small town cop who doesn't know how deep the river runs. I'm a retired Army Ranger. That means something.”
“So was McGurney, Alan,” I countered soberly. “And it didn't seem to make a difference for him.”
Hostility rolled off of Alan.
“McGurney didn't know what he was dealing with.”
“Neither do you!” I squawked before lowering my voice. “You don't have a fucking clue what you're getting yourself into, and I would like to take this moment to point out that hubris is probably not a favorable trait to possess when your life is potentially on the line.”
“And you're so certain of this because...?” His question was met with silence. “What aren't you telling me?”
“Listen, I don't know who killed your friend, but what I do know is that if they could take him out like he was a mere civilian, then you may want to think twice about running into this situation blindly. That's all I'm trying to say.”
He leaned against the seat back of the booth and studied me. He knew I was right, but didn't want to admit it. That was abundantly clear.
“So what do you suggest I do then, Ruby? Should I simply sit on what could prove to be the single shot I have at finding McGurney's killer? Lie to his widow when she calls asking if I have any new leads? Torment myself during sleepless nights, knowing that there is a coldblooded assassin out there while I turn the other cheek because it may mean putting myself at risk?” he asked, firing his rhetorical questions at me rapidly. “I can't let this go, Ruby. You know that. Something drove my friend crazy, and it got him killed. I need to know what, and I need to know who.”
I inhaled deeply, realizing that I was about to suggest something so stupid that it would surely lead to one unenviable outcome. But I offered it anyway.
“Let me come with you,” I said plainly.
He had the decency to cover his laughter with a fake cough.
“You're worried about a trained soldier looking into this matter further but think it's a good idea to throw yourself into the mix? Maybe you've gone just as crazy as McGurney.”
“Listen, you're going to need someone to help you. Someone to—I don't know— keep watch? Drive the getaway car?”
“It's not a bank robbery, Ruby.”
“I know, I know. That was a bad example,” I rambled, hoping I could somehow impress upon him that going down to Virginia
alone was the worst idea ever without giving my supernatural self away in the process. “All I'm saying is that it wouldn't hurt to have a wingman, or wingwoman, as the case may be.”
“And you think you're the right woman for the job?”
“No, but I think I'll have to do because you have no other options. Nobody else you can trust.”
“I'm not sure I can trust you, Ruby,” he scoffed. “And I don't want to be responsible for your safety down there.”
“I'm not asking you to be,” I rebutted.
He paused for a moment, ruminating over my proposal.
“I'm getting on a plane first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I'll book my ticket tonight. Send me the flight info.”
“Nobody can know where you're going,” he said firmly. “And I mean nobody.”
“Deal.”
“Not even your felon of a boyfriend.”
“He's no longer my boyfriend, and he sure as hell doesn't care what I get myself into anymore.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. So if you're all done laying down the law, I have a ticket to book and bags to pack without Cooper and the others catching me in the act.”
I abruptly stood up to leave, snatching my purse up from the booth as I did. When I began to walk away, Alan called out to me, catching my arm as I walked by.
“Ruby, is everything okay?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” I countered, still wondering what was happening with Kristy. Maybe they were having marital problems.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and inhaled deeply.
“Is everything okay?” he repeated. His tone was rather interrogatory.
“No,” I answered softly. “But I'm hoping it will be.” I gave him a wan smile and gently pulled my arm loose from his grasp. “I'll see you tomorrow, Alan.”
“Yeah. I guess you will,” he replied, assessing my expression. “I'll email you my flight number from the precinct.”
“Great.”
With that, he let me go, and I walked out of The Friendly Toast, barely managing to maintain my composure. Talking about Sean had hurt more than I expected it to; there was no escaping that fact. He had once told me that the pain of loss never fully abandoned a person, but time would ease its intensity. I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever live long enough to see the day come when thinking about him didn't make my chest seize up so tightly that I could barely breathe.
Then I wondered if maybe time would only make it worse.
Making my way down the street toward my apartment, I tried to refocus on what was most important now: keeping Alan safe in Virginia. I was surprised that he'd given into my suggestion, which, of course, made me instantly suspicious. My paranoia still reigned supreme.
With every step I took, I questioned what might be awaiting us upon arrival in Virginia―what McGurney had gone to such great lengths to keep hidden. If his note was any indication of the subject matter, I was scared shitless by the potentially incriminating evidence that may lie behind that locked door. If the information was worth killing for, it couldn't be good.
I will keep him safe, Ruby.
“Glad you can trouble yourself to be involved,” I whispered snidely, lowering my head so that any passersby wouldn't think I was completely insane.
If you are involved, then I am by default, no? Have you forgotten how this works?
“Frankly? Yes. I sorta have forgotten. It's been awhile.”
I see that your petty sarcasm survived my absence.
“I cling to the familiar in times of duress.”
And yet you cleaved from Sean without a second thought.
“Because he was the source of duress.”
If you choose to look at it that way, I suppose he was.
“Can you please explain to me why the fuck you're badgering me about Sean? You hate him. Loathe him. In fact, I believe you wanted to watch him die—”
If he even can.
“Not the point, Scarlet. This is one scab you don't get to pick at.”
To have a scab to pick at would imply that you've begun to heal.
“Shut up!” I snarled a little too loudly, causing the middle-aged woman who was passing me to give me an unnecessarily wide berth. “Do me a favor and drop this one, would you? If you suddenly want to talk so much, then you should begin by telling me what the fuck those memories and voices and whatever else I'm having are. They're getting to be as annoying as the Rev's visions.”
Though slightly less debilitating.
“Oh. Yes. Points to you on that,” I mocked, turning the key in the lock of the exterior door to my apartment building. “But you do realize that you just tried to validate your argument by comparing yourself to the Rev—the psycho who made Charles Manson look like an altar boy?”
Semantics, Ruby...
“Ugh,” I groaned, climbing up the stairs to my apartment. “Whatever. I'm not trying to get into that right now. Just make good on your promise. If something goes awry in Virginia, you need to get Alan out of there alive. Understood?”
With the utmost clarity.
“Good. Now shut up so I can think of something to tell Coop and the boys. I need to buy a day away from town without arousing suspicion.”
You should tell them your plan.
“And you should tell me what you did, but that doesn't seem to be happening. I'd say the odds of me following your suggestion are about the same,” I countered, hovering outside the door on the landing. “It could end up being nothing to worry about, anyway.”
“What could end up being nothing to worry about?” an accented voice asked from the floor above.
“Oh! Hey, Janner. I'm just talking to myself, or Scarlet really. We were just discussing all this London stuff.”
“The lack of progress there is disconcerting, isn't it?” he asked, coming down the stairs from the third floor to meet me outside the apartment door.
“Yeah, well, not much we can do with nothing new to go off of at the moment, right?”
“Very true.”
“Are you guys going to be busy working on the apartment tomorrow?”
“Beckett, Lyla, and I will be busy with some of the finish work in the bedrooms, as well as keeping Alistair out of harm's reach. Why? Do you need something?”
“Yes, I do. A body of sorts. Want to lend me Ali? He can run the store while I'm down in Boston,” I explained, hoping he hadn't spent enough time around me to know when I was lying my pants off. “I need to spend the day there getting odds and ends for the shop. I thought I might have dinner and crash with Peyta and Jay if my errands take longer than expected.”
“Is that really what you're doing?” he asked, and I struggled to keep what I hoped was a poker face intact.
“What do you mean?”
“It's okay to want to check up on your friend and be sure she's settling into her new role, Ruby. There's no shame in that.”
I nearly exhaled in relief at his words. Instead, I smiled grandly.
“You're right. I just didn't want to make a big thing of it. I'm not going to tell her that I may be stopping in. I'd rather surprise her, that way she can't prepare for it.”
“Good thinking, given her past,” he agreed. “Though I am quite certain Jay is a grounding force for her. She seems well when he is with her.”
“I think so too, Janner.”
He smiled at me in his reserved way and turned to head back up to the war zone that was my soon-to-be apartment for refugees.
“I'll let Alistair know that his affection for shiny objects will be indulged to the utmost tomorrow. He'll be elated.”
“Thanks!” I shouted up the staircase before I quickly made my way inside my apartment. I had a lot to do and little time to accomplish it. And I needed to do it all without getting caught.
Ideally, I would have told Cooper. I wanted to―I really did―but I knew what would happen if I did. First he'd tell me I was crazy, then he'd say he was coming. Alan aske
d that I come alone and in secret. Once again, I was stuck in the middle of two men I respected; no matter what decision I made, someone was going to be pissed.
I had to make a choice.
My rationalization, weak though it was, centered around Cooper trying to reconnect with Lyla. I also reasoned that I needed him to keep the renovations on track in my absence. I didn't really want to be an alarmist, especially when I wasn't even certain there was something to be alarmed about. I decided that I would go down with Alan alone, knowing that if anything seemed iffy at any point, I would call him off the hunt and drag him back home, where I would face the music with Cooper. Now that Scarlet was back, there was far less danger for me in any situation, even if that wasn't apparent to those around me. I wasn't someone who needed to be protected the way I had been in her absence. Now I was someone who was capable of protecting others—or so I hoped.
I wasn't sure I wanted to bet Alan's life on that though.
A wager I was ultimately glad I didn't make.
Chapter 25
Making the travel arrangements proved easier than I had anticipated.
I managed to get a seat on the same flight as Alan without issue, though it cost me a small fortune. Once morning came, I left for Boston without so much as a quirked brow from those around me—even from Cooper. His leash on me had slackened a bit with the reemergence of Scarlet, which made me feel a pang of guilt knowing that I was exploiting that latitude at first opportunity.
But ensuring Alan's safety was worth being grounded, if it came to that.
I didn't see Alan until I boarded the plane, having barely made it in time to catch the flight at all. And I didn't speak to him until we deplaned in Virginia. It was lunch time, so we grabbed a quick bite in near silence before we went to rent a car. The tension between us was clear, but there was a different tension that was entirely Alan's. It seeped out slowly while time ticked away. That particular brand of tension had nothing to do with me.
“We should get a hotel room for the afternoon and lay low until nightfall,” he said, popping the trunk of the nondescript navy sedan. “Once it's dark out, that's when we'll head out.”
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