Nevermore

by Wrenn Montgomery

  “It’s really none of your concern, Reggie.”

  Reggie chuckles and my hackles start to rise.

  “Lacey, here’s your check. I think you’d better go now,” I say.

  “No, wait.” Reggie shoots me another look. “What negative things have been happening? I’d love to know.”

  “Uh,” Lacey stammers, and Reggie crosses his arms, eyebrows creeping up to his hairline. “Well, I just heard that you were attacked, Raven. But you look really good!”

  “You heard Raven was attacked?” he presses.

  “Yeah, and in the hospital. How scary!” she says.

  “And where did you hear that, Lacey?” Reggie is like a dog with a bone, and he’s not letting this go.

  “Oh, just around. And what a pity! But honestly, Raven, you can’t even tell!”

  I’ve had enough. I’m not sure what’s going on here but I’m ready for her to leave. “I actually wasn’t attacked, per se, and I’m fine. Thank you for coming by and saving me a stamp.” I hand her the check and she takes it, a look of confusion on her face.

  “Oh, well, of course. Have a great night!” Her voice elevates at the end of her sentence.

  Phil is suddenly right behind me as Lacey turns and almost runs out of the store, pulling her phone out as she runs. It’s to her ear before she’s out of my sight.

  “What in the actual fuck was that?” I ask, looking at Reggie.

  “I don’t know, but how did she know any of that? None of it has been on the news…”

  He’s right, because Elli threatened to sue any media outlet that ran a story on her and she has such good connections with them that they didn’t want to piss her off.

  “I know,” I say.

  “I think we need to call Emmett,” Reggie states.

  “Already on it,” Phil pipes up from behind me.

  My belly is doing flips, and I can feel the bile raising in my throat. “You think…you think she was involved?”

  “Why else would she conveniently skip town the week all this happened? She looked surprised to see you here, and she thought you had been attacked. Something isn’t right,” Reggie says.

  I nod, and suddenly it makes too much sense.

  “Emmett is on his way,” Phil says, and Mark appears a few seconds later.

  “I’m going to close up and head upstairs,” I tell them. “Do you guys have to come up with me, or how is this going to work?”

  “I’d like you to take this panic button,” Phil says, handing me a key fob. “But we’ll stay down here.”

  “You’re not going to sleep?” I ask him.

  “B Team will relieve us at nine PM. We’ll go home and be back at nine AM to switch off with them. But no, they won’t be sleeping. They’ll continue to case the premises and keep watch.”

  “Okay, thank you,” I say, before heading to the front of the store.

  I flip the sign to “Closed” and shut off the outside lights.

  When I turn to close the shutters, I see Lacey on her phone, standing across the street, staring right at me.

  Fucking Lacey.

  I should’ve vetted that one. She has to be the one that was feeding information to Brent Smallwood. That file he had, the things he knew…

  They had to have come from someone who was close to her and seeing her on a daily basis. Lacey was the perfect mole.

  I rush to Raven’s store and nod to the bodyguards as I pull up.

  Lacey is long gone.

  When the security detail had gone to approach her outside, she bolted.

  Thank God they’re here.

  Reggie also waited for me. “She’s upstairs,” he informs me when I enter the stock room in the back.

  “Probably in the bath,” we say in unison.

  “Can you tell me what Lacey said? I need to take a statement and send it to Tropp,” I say.

  Phil, the larger of the security guards, comes over to tell me what he heard; and with his and Reggie’s recollection of events I have enough to bring her in for questioning.

  They sign the statement we write out, and I call Tropp.

  She’s been in a nearby county trying to track down Raven’s mom. I’m not sure how Raven will take this information, but I’m going to tell her about it tonight.

  “Tropp.”

  “Hey, Monica. Anything?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, I found her. She’s in bad shape but swears she doesn’t owe anyone anything and doesn’t know a single person who would want to hurt Raven. She’s concerned of course, and is wanting to make contact with her. I told her we’d let Raven know and that we’d let her decide how she wanted to proceed.”

  “All right, good. It’s a touchy subject, but I’ll bring it up with her tonight.” I tell her about the situation with Lacey, and my meeting with the captain.

  “I’m going to stay here and discuss everything with Raven. I’ll let you know where we get from there. If you find Lacey, please call me. I want to be there for her interview,” I tell her.

  She agrees and we hang up.

  I say goodbye to Reggie and Phil walks him to the door, making sure he gets to Todd’s car safely.

  Then, I bolt up the stairs to get to Raven.

  This is going to be a hard night, but I hope she’ll have more trust in me after all the cards are on the table.

  I find her in the bath, just like Reggie and I figured. I knock on the big wooden door to the bathroom and she tells me to come in.

  Raven in a tub full of bubbles is a sight I hope to never forget.

  I take her in for a moment, seeing her and only her, and then slowly the rest of the world comes back into focus. She has a wooden tray laying across the tub in front of her. On the tray is a bottle of wine, a wine glass, a candle…and a plate of bacon.

  Of course.

  Her pitch-black hair is piled on top of her head in a messy knot, and she’s taken her makeup off but left all her jewelry on. She always wears a short chain necklace with a small silver half-moon on it, and about five rings on her fingers. I can see her toes peeping out of the bubbles at the end of the tub, painted a dark burgundy. Her upper left arm is covered in a black and gray floral tattoo, and it fits her perfectly.

  She’s perfect.

  I slump down on the floor beside the tub, and she holds her hand out so I can hold it. I kiss the back of it and she giggles.

  “How cliché, Mr. Fisher.”

  “That’s Detective Fisher to you, ma’am.”

  She giggles again and makes like she’s going to splash me.

  “I wouldn’t,” I say. “The bacon might get wet.”

  “Oooh, good point.” She grabs another slice and crunches down on it, then offers it to me.

  “What kind of man would I be for taking a woman’s bacon?”

  “Well, if you recall, you did the first night.”

  “I do recall.” I smirk and she leans her head back against the tub, closing her eyes with a smile on her lips.

  “I know we need to talk, but can we just wait a few minutes? I just want to soak in this moment first.”

  “We can wait as long as you want, gorgeous.”

  We stay in the bathroom until the water goes cold and the bubbles are gone.

  The patience of this man has me falling a little harder, and I curse myself for the butterflies I get when he offers to help me out of the tub, averting his eyes from my body.

  “You don’t want to look?” I give him a grin and he clears his throat.

  “I always want to look.”

  “So why aren’t you?”

  “I want to give you your space, follow your lead. Do you want me to look?”

  “You’ve seen me naked every day for the last week, Emmett.” I refrain myself from rolling my eyes.

  Now he wants to act shy?

  “And I’ll never take that for granted or assume that’s my right,” he says.

  “Perfect answer. But yes, you can always look.”

  He turns toward me, standing i
n front of the tub on my white marble tile. He starts at my toes and slowly makes his way up my body with his eyes.

  By the time he’s reached my hips, I’m squirming. The scrutiny is almost unbearable. “What?”

  “Just soaking it all in,” he says, throwing my earlier words back at me, and I swat at him. Before I make contact he grabs my arm and pulls me to him.

  “I’m all wet,” I protest, scared of ruining his button-up or slacks.

  He ignores me and picks me up, carrying me to the bed across my loft. Laying me down so my head rests upon a pillow, he stands back, looking at me again.

  I close my eyes, unable to take it. I’m pretty confident in my body, but this feels like I’m baring my soul to this man and he’s just taking his sweet time lapping it up.

  “Open your eyes, Raven.” I reluctantly follow his directions and he adds, “Don’t close them again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hearing those words seems to change something in him—his back is a little straighter and his eyes get a glassy gaze.

  In less than ten seconds he’s naked and hovering over me on the bed. “Say that again.”

  “Sir.”

  His eyes close slowly, and then he’s moving, making damn sure I know just how much he appreciates me as he worships my body for the next hour.

  A while later, we’re lying in the dark under the covers and he’s drawing small circles on my lower back with his fingertips.

  “You ready to talk about everything?” he asks me.

  I nod against his chest.

  “We’ve got some theories that I want to run by you. Don’t hold anything back, I want to know what you think about them. Some of this is going to be a little uncomfortable, and if it becomes too much, we can stop.”

  “I’ll be fine, Emmett,” I say to encourage him. Even if this is hard, I’ll get through it. I always do.

  “Okay. Our list of suspects is small, and the connection with Lacey could technically be with any of them. I’m really suspicious of her, and I feel like she may have had something to do with this. If we can get her into custody and get her to answer our questions, we may be able to unravel all of this. Monica is out looking for her now. She’s going to call me if she finds her.”

  “Tell me what you found at the hotel.”

  He takes a deep breath, before telling me about a near miss he had a hotel the day I was taken.

  “Holy shit.” I respond.

  “I know.”

  Over the next twenty minutes, we go over my dad’s other family. And then the kill shot comes.

  “We also have to consider your mother, Raven.”

  “She didn’t have anything to do with this.” I automatically shut down. I don’t want to talk about her and ruin this night.

  “I don’t think she did either, but she may have gotten into some sort of trouble and someone could be looking to hurt you to get back at her.”

  I’m shaking my head before he finishes his sentence. “I’d rather not talk about her.”

  “I’m sorry. I understand. I do need to let you know that Monica found her today and talked with her, though.”

  My nostrils flare and I feel my chest get thick. “She found her?”

  “Yes, and she did ask her some questions about you. Your mom swore she didn’t have to do anything with this, and Monica felt like she was being truthful but we can’t mark her off just yet. She also asked if she could contact you to check on you herself.”

  “Fuck.”

  “We told her that it was your call, and that we’d relay the message to you. Monica said your mom acted like she understood.”

  “Was she…is she any better?” I bring myself to ask.

  His pause tells me everything I need to know.

  “Never mind, don’t answer that,” I say. “I’d rather not speak with her. Could you please let Monica know I’d rather not have any contact with her?”

  “Of course.”

  I burrow my head into his chest and ask if we can be done with this for tonight. He agrees and I feel him drifting off to sleep a little while after.

  I try to wipe my eyes, praying he can’t feel the wet spot on his shirt, not wanting him to know I’ve been crying. I sit up and roll over, turning my back to the now sleeping man beside me.

  A few seconds later I feel the mattress dip and a tissue appears over my shoulder.

  He knew the whole time, but he didn’t try to comfort me. He pretended to be asleep.

  I think I love him.

  When I’m sure Raven is actually asleep and not silently crying anymore, I roll over and check my phone for messages from Monica.

  But I got nothing. They say no news is good news, however, waiting has never been my strongest skillset.

  I roll back over and pull Raven closer to my chest, spooning her and burying my face into the back of her neck. I breathe her in, committing her scent to memory.

  What the fuck is wrong with you, man?

  I just can’t get enough of this woman.

  The sound of my phone ringing beside the bed wakes me and I see that it’s around four AM.

  I scramble to grab it from the nightstand before it wakes Raven. “Detective Fisher.”

  “Hey, it’s Tropp. I found Lacey, I’m bringing her into the station.”

  “Goddamn, Monica, did you go home at all?”

  “Yeah, I was asleep but one of my leads got back in touch with me and had eyes on her, so I just picked her up.”

  “I’ll meet you there.” I hang up and slide out of the bed gently.

  “Everything okay?” Raven sleepily asks without opening her eyes.

  “Yes, gorgeous. I’m going to the station to interview Lacey. The security guys are downstairs. I’ll be back as soon as possible.” I lean down and kiss her forehead.

  She lets out a little sigh in response and she’s back asleep before I’m fully dressed.

  At the bottom of her little hidden doorway, there’s one guard I haven’t met yet, then there’s another one at the back entrance. I stop for a second to chat with the one at the base of the stairs, whose name tag says Arnold, to let him know where I’m going and to call me if anything happens.

  I quickly walk to my car and get in. Looking around, I don’t see anyone. I’m probably just anxious about interviewing Lacey and what kind of information we’ll get out of her. I send another thank you to the skies for Elli providing the security detail for Raven, otherwise there’s no way I could leave her side.

  I call Tropp back on my way to the station and let her know I’ll be there in ten, and she tells me that, so far, Lacey isn’t speaking.

  I make it there in six minutes and bound up the steps into the station. I wave hello to the receptionist that’s already there before heading downstairs to the basement floor, where I run into Alex again.

  “Hey, man. Monica asked me to help out with the interview. Are you cool with that?”

  I eye him for a moment before answering, “Sure. Fine with me.”

  It is his shift, after all, and even though Monica and I are the ones on the case, everyone is chipping in where they can.

  My personal issues with Alex were just over a week ago, but honestly, it feels like a year has passed. So much has happened and I’m over it. We have bigger fish to fry—and Alex is a damn good interrogator, even if it pains me to admit that.

  We continue down to the basement floor where the interview rooms are. There are six, although I think we could’ve gotten away with one. This town rarely has crime—one of the reasons I chose to move here. My job as a detective is needed, but I’m not so overwhelmed with work and bogged down with cases that I’m getting burnt out.

  There are three rooms on each side of the hallway, and as we reach the bottom of the stairs I see Monica leaning against the door frame of room four.

  “How’s it going?” I ask her.

  “Waited for you. I figured giving her some time to stew and get nervous could only benefit us. She hasn’t asked for a
lawyer. I don’t think she thinks she needs one. So for right now, everything is fair game,” Monica says.

  I hear heels clicking down the hallway and glance up to see our lead psychologist, Stacey Jennings. She’s coming toward us and I give her a nod, thankful she’s here to profile and help us assess Lacey to figure out the best course of action with her interview.

  Monica briefs her on the case while I look over the file with Alex, making sure he’s up-to-date on what’s going on. We decide that Alex and I will go in first and try to rattle her a little, and Stacey and Monica will watch the live feed from a nearby room. Stacey will assess what she sees, then she and Monica will go in to see if they can get any more from Lacey.

  I take deep breath and look over at Alex, who gives me a curt nod.

  It’s go time.

  My alarm goes off at six AM and I bury my head under my pillow.

  It’s Thursday. The shop doesn’t open until ten but it’s shipment day, and the new stock will be coming in around eight.

  Groaning, I roll out of bed and catch myself looking around for Emmett before remembering he went into the station at some point during the night. I fire off a text to him to let him know I’m awake and wish him luck before I jump in the shower. The scent of my apple and pear shampoo makes me grin. Emmett’s been using it since he doesn’t have his own toiletries here and the smell reminds me of him. I guess I should get him some toiletries of his own. he’s been here every single night since we met, except the night we stayed at my father’s—together.

  I put that idea back on the shelf, the thought of him having items here freaking me out a little. I know it doesn’t mean he’s moving in, but that’s the first step, isn’t it? Staying over often, then leaving a few outfits just in case you need them, and then toiletries, and then all of a sudden you have a new roommate.

  Yeah, let’s definitely shelve that for now.

  Another thing I don’t want to think about: I’m supposed to have lunch with my dad today.

  I have so many questions for him and yet part of me doesn’t want to know. What made him choose his wife and sons over my mother if she really was the love of his life?

  He loved her enough to get a tattoo for her—something I’m sure his wife doesn’t know the true meaning behind. He said it was because of his career, and I guess I understand that, but I can admit it stings a little. As much as I don’t want to rehash everything, I do think getting answers will help me decide where we go from here.