by Cole Baxter
"Yes," I said. "What did they say? Was there another victim?"
"No . . ." he said. "It's just . . . the finger that they found from the fire?"
"Yes?" I asked. "Devon's finger?"
"It was cut off with a knife," he said.
It took me a moment to fully process exactly what that meant.
"But . . . Devon was burned up," I said. "Who cut it off with a knife? Did somebody hurt him before they burned him? Is that the same someone who is out to get me? Is it—"
"Laurie," Blake said quietly. "I don't think that anyone hurt Devon."
It took me another long moment to figure out exactly what he meant by that.
"No, someone did," I said. "Someone—"
"I don't think Devon is hurt at all," Blake said. "Minus a missing finger or two."
I felt a cold shock wash over me.
"You don't think he's dead?"
"Do you think he's dead?" Blake asked.
I realized that in the pit of my stomach, I didn't. I didn't even know how to process that thought.
The first thing that washed over me was fear. If Devon was alive, I wasn't safe. The Graces weren't safe. No one was safe. And I knew that if Devon were alive, he would come for me. He held grudges and he didn't stop just because someone told him to. Devon would get whatever he wanted, and he would get it quickly. I may be surrounded by the police and I may be safe in a high-floor hotel room right now, but I wouldn't be safe for long. If he was alive, I was as good as dead.
There was a small part of me that was relieved. There was a small part of the girl who had married Devon that was elated at the fact that he was alive and I could see him again.
That girl was nineteen. And I realized that girl was dead. The innocent teenager who married him would have thought her worst nightmare was Devon being dead. She wanted nothing but him by her side, always.
That girl could mourn Devon. But she was dead in the morgue, under the sheet.
"I think he might be alive," I said at last. "I . . . I've had that feeling for a while. But honestly, I just thought that I was being paranoid. I mean, we had all the evidence. And his being dead would be the best thing that ever happened to me."
"I can make him dead again," Blake said and then tried to smile.
"You can't if you can't find him," I said. "You don't know him, Blake. He can do anything he wants. He knows how to hide. he knows how to sneak around."
"Laurie, I'm a private detective," he said. "It is my job to find people who don't want to be found."
"But the question is, if he's alive, can you find him in time?"
"If it means protecting you, then yes," he said. "Yes, I can. Don't worry."
I closed my eyes.
"What will you say to the police?" I asked. "And your employer? If this is true?"
"Well, I will say that you're innocent," he said.
I realized that I hadn't been thinking about that. "Devon’s being alive means that I didn't kill him," I realized. "Yes . . . Blake, we have to go to the police."
"I need to sort this out first," he said. "And I need to figure out what I'm going to tell my mysterious employer."
"But shouldn't we tell them right away?" I said. "Won't it look bad if we knew and we held it back?"
"Actually . . ." he said. "What will look bad is us, right now, together."
"Really?" I said and then realized he was right. "Well, we can't tell them that part."
"No," he said. "We can't. I almost let it slip the other day when I was making a report about the fire."
"Did they say anything?"
"My friend on the force, Sam, he's suspicious," Blake said. "But it doesn't matter. Sam is a good guy. If anything, he would be happy for me if he knew for sure."
"Did he know about you and Lola?" I asked.
He shook his head. "No," he replied. "No one knew because it was frowned upon."
"But wouldn't that make you a better partner?" I asked.
"No, it would make you distracted, supposedly," he said.
"Well?" I asked and met his eyes. "Did it?"
"I . . ."
I had never seen Blake's face crumple before. I hadn't meant to hurt him, but it seemed that I had dug something up that I shouldn't have.
"I don't know. I didn't think so . . . but she's gone, isn't she? So, I suppose—"
"Blake, it's not your fault," I said.
His eyes flickered to me. "How do you know?" he asked. "It could have been my fault. It could be—"
"No," I said and reached for his hand. "No, you said that she was shot. You couldn't have done anything."
"There are things you can do to protect your partner," he said. "I thought that I would do absolutely anything to protect my partner . . . but I guess I didn't."
"Blake, I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to bring any of this up."
"It's fine," he said. "I deserved it. I—"
"No," I said and leaned into him. "You said yourself that bad things happen to good people and there's nothing anyone can do about it."
"But I'm not a good person," he said.
"I think you're a good person," I answered. "I think you're a very good person."
He smiled. "Well, you're about the only one on the planet," he said.
I gave him a hug, and both of us sat there in silence for a long moment.
"What are we going to do?" I asked him. "We're both so broken."
"Yeah," he said as he ran his hand through my hair. "But I'm hoping that at least one of us can be fixed."
"Mmm," I said as I snuggled into him. I felt safe in his arms, and I never wanted him to leave.
"All right," he said after a long moment. "So, what I'm going to do is look into the files again and see if there is anything I'm missing from the new evidence. It should be uploaded to the database soon, but unless someone is looking for it, they won't be notified. And then I'll write a report and tell Sam when I'm ready."
"What should I do?" I asked. "Is there something I can do to help?"
"No," he said and kissed the top of my head. "There's nothing you can do but sit there and look gorgeous."
My stomach growled, and I was surprised to find that I was hungry.
"Can I order room service?" I asked.
He smiled. "I think that would be a great idea," he said. "I could eat the whole room service menu at this point."
"Yes," I said with a grin as I opened it. "Do you know, in my whole life, I've never had room service?"
"Really?" he asked. "You never traveled for work? You never . . ."
His face crumpled when he saw mine.
"I guess not, eh?"
"No," I said. "I mean, there wasn't much chance before I married Devon."
"I guess I didn't fully realize how much he . . ."
"Yeah," I said. "I pretty much just stayed in the house and didn't do anything."
"I'm so sorry, Laurie," he said. "I guess I didn't realize what an impact he had on your whole life."
"Yeah," I said. "But he's dead . . . at least he was dead."
"He will be dead again," Blake promised me.
I smiled at him. "I hope so," I said. I had never before in my life wished someone were dead, but I wished it on Devon now.
"Just order the room service," Blake said, "and leave the rest to me."
I wanted to trust him. I really did. But there was something in the back of my head that told me he would be just like everyone else if I wasn't careful. This was the part that Devon had ruined. This was the part of me that I might never get back. If I wasn't careful.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Blake
I didn't even spend the night with her. I spent the day away from her, telling her that I would do work, and I was such a jerk that instead of doing work, I went to a bar and pounded back the liquor like no one's businesses.
My mind was spinning and there were a million things that I was trying to rectify. Was Devon dead? Was Devon not dead? Was there something I could do a
bout it? Was I powerless? Was I going to be able to find him?
I didn't even know where to start looking. I was a private investigator, for God's sake, and I was completely lost as to where I could look and where I could start.
I couldn't believe that I was sitting in a bar drinking instead of with Laurie, but I was powerless.
I knew I was in trouble and I knew that I needed help. But right now, all I could do was keep pounding back the liquor.
My phone rang when I was already half drunk and I saw that it was Sam. I couldn't wait to find out what he wanted to tell me now. It was probably some sort of secret that he wanted to gloat that he knew. I couldn't wait to hear what secret Sam had for me this time.
"Hello?" I said. I was trying not to sound drunk, but then I realized, what did it matter? Sam wasn't my boss and I wasn't working all the time. If I wanted to be drunk, I could be.
"Blake," Sam said. "Do you have a minute?"
"Sure, why not?" I said. "What do you need?"
"I need, uh . . . I have something to tell you," he said at last. "I've kind of been an asshole."
"You needed to call me and say that?" I asked. "I mean, I knew that."
"I know, you asshole," he said. "But I can't keep it a secret anymore. You should know who's paying your salary."
"Wow," I said. "That is a surprise. Why tell me now?"
"Because . . ." He took a deep breath. "Because I think it might affect the case, especially with everything going on."
"Who is it?" I asked with bated breath.
"Devon's parents," he said.
I slammed my hand against the bar. "I knew it!" I cried. "I knew it!"
"Yeah, I was sure that you'd figured it out, but I wanted to confirm it."
"Well, thanks," I said. "I was fairly sure that I knew that, but I couldn't just call them out. Now, however, I can call them out."
"Blake," Sam warned me. "Don't be an asshole. Don't go and yell at them."
"Why not?" I asked. "I can tell them the truth about what I think of them."
"You do that, and they will stop paying your salary," he pointed out.
I shrugged. "So what?" I asked. "They're going to stop paying it anyway. I'm not going to keep it a secret, what I think of their son, forever."
"Yeah, but . . ." Sam paused. "You can't just . . . drop the job. You signed a contract."
"I mean, technically, Sam, you signed a contract," I said. "I didn't do anything."
"Oh, my God," he said. "Are you drinking?"
"Maybe," I replied. "What if I am? I'm allowed, you know."
"I know," he said. "But it's in the middle of a workday, and I think maybe you should—"
"Sam, maybe you could do me a favor and not tell me what to do since we aren't really colleagues anymore," I said. "But you know what? I'm glad you told me who my clients are. I have a few things to tell them."
I hung up the phone before Sam had a chance to say anything, which made me feel a little bit happier. I had been wanting to do that to Sam forever, and this was the best opportunity, when I could say I was drunk.
I was drunk, and I was already thinking about bed. But I had to do one thing first. Now that I knew Devon's parents were my clients, I had to go to them and thank them for the money. And then shove it in their faces that I thought their son was a terrible person and he was hurting an innocent person.
I was smart enough to take a cab to Devon's parents’ house, at least, so that I didn't cause a traffic accident. I was getting good at hiding the fact that I was drunk, and I was certain they wouldn't be able to tell, but I popped a piece of gum just in case. When Ellis answered the door, he looked pretty surprised to see me.
"Blake . . ." he said. "Did you . . . uh . . . hello."
"Hello," I said. "Can I come in?"
"Oh, now is not a good time," he said.
I shook my head. "No, now needs to be a good time," I replied. "I would like to come in."
"Uh . . . okay." He looked completely taken aback by that, but he stepped away to let me in. "Has something happened? Is there a development in the case?"
"Something has happened," I answered. "And what has happened is that your son is a lying sack of shit."
"Excuse me?" he answered in shock. "What are you saying?"
"What I am saying is that your son is lying. He's not dead. He's alive. And he's come after an innocent girl. He's killed quite a few innocent girls already, I imagine. All I've found so far is Sandy, but I am sure there are others."
He coughed. "Blake, you—"
"No." I shook my head. "I'm so tired of people saying oh, Poor Devon, when it is pretty clear to me that he was an abusive sack of shit who abused the hell out of Laurie and who knows how many other people."
"Laurie committed crimes," Ellis said to me.
"Did she?" I asked with a shrug. "Maybe she did. I don't know. What I do know is that any crime she committed is because of Devon. She was trying to escape from him. She was trying to run from him. She was trying to survive. Devon, on the other hand, was working through a path of destruction, and he didn't care who he hurt. He wasn't worried about who he hurt. He just wanted things his way, and now that Laurie has made it known she didn't die, he's after her again!"
"What is it?" Shannon came down the stairs suddenly, and I turned to her. "What's happening?"
"Oh, you didn't hear?" I asked her. "Your son is alive. And he is no doubt trying to kill Laurie because he didn't finish the job the first time."
She turned to Ellis in shock. "Devon is alive?" she asked. "He—"
"Devon is not alive." Ellis fixed her with a hard stare. "This asshole is just trying to get us to think that he is. Devon is not alive and there is no way anything that Blake is saying is accurate."
"Sir, you can think that all you want," I replied. "But your son is alive, and he torched Laurie's building, and I cannot wait to see how he gives himself away next."
"He won't give himself away because he's dead!" Ellis glared at me. "I think you need to get out of my house right now."
It was pretty clear that he didn't know that Sam had released their secret to me. I decided to play it that way and shrugged.
"Whatever," I said. "But now that I know the truth, what are you going to do? Are you going to kill me too?"
'"Blake, I will not ask you again," he answered with a growl. "If you do not get out of my house—"
"Yeah, yeah." I rolled my eyes. "I'm going. I'm going. I expected you two to be more relieved that your dead son was suddenly alive. Why wouldn't you react that way unless you already knew that?"
"We aren't reacting with relief because you're drunk." Ellis glared at me. "And we both know that."
"But . . ." Shannon said and he pushed her back.
"No," he said. "This man is a raving lunatic and he is going to stay the hell away from us now, aren't you?"
I shrugged with a smirk. "Sure, I'll do whatever you want," I said. "But I know I'm right."
"GET OUT!" he screamed.
I stumbled out the door with a smirk on my face. I knew that I had done something good, even though it didn't make any sense right now. Once I was outside their house, I realized I didn't really know what to do. The taxi was gone, and I certainly couldn't walk.
I decided to puff up their prosperity and then call a taxi or something. My head was swimming and I don't think the gravity of what I had done hit me until I was at the end of their property.
Then, my eyes widened.
"Oh, my God," I said out loud. "I'm going to lose my job."
I was probably going to get an angry call from Sam about this, but what I was trying to figure out was whether I could get another job lined up. My drunk brain didn't even care about whether the ramifications of this would affect me on a professional level.
I had to get another gig. I had to protect Laurie. She wasn't working right now, at least not on anything that paid her, and I had to find a way to keep us both safe.
Was I that serious about her?
Did I want to be with her that much that I would do something like that? Was I happy with her?
I had never thought that I would be happy with anyone after Lola. But Laurie was sweeping me off my feet.
I briefly considered calling her and telling her exactly what had happened, but I knew that calling her when I was drunk wasn't the best idea in the world. I could call her later when I figured out how to get out of here.
I should have brought my gun. I should have brought something to keep myself safe. If their son could kill, then there was no doubt he had learned it from his father.
His father was scum, I realized. Everything that they said about him was true. He was an asshole who treated women terribly, and I knew exactly where Devon got it.
Maybe Ellis was in on it. Maybe Ellis was responsible for Laurie's garage nearly burning down. Maybe Ellis was in charge of choosing who they were going to kill next.
I knew it was ridiculous, but what else could I assume at this stage? Nothing about this case made sense, but I had a feeling we were getting closer.
I finally got off their giant property, and I sat down and called a taxi. I thought that I might throw up, and I wanted to call them in case I passed out.
I hadn't been this drunk in a long time. I wasn't sure what pushed me over the edge, but I was eager to get home and just pass out.
Laurie would likely wonder where I was, but I could send her a text in a few hours and let her know that I was all right. If I was still conscious.
I saw the taxi coming around the corner, and I went to catch it and tried not to vomit on the driver.
Devon had done this. Devon had done all of this, and I would kill him if I ever found him.
I would find him. I was the best damn private detective on the planet, and I would find him. I just needed to sleep this off first.
Chapter Thirty
Laurie
I had been calling Blake, and calling him and calling him, but he didn't answer the phone. I assumed he was working, but I just wanted him to come here and be with me. There was something about him that made me feel completely safe, and I didn't feel safe right now. I had chills up and down my spine and I couldn't stop jumping at every noise. I had worked through so much in therapy, and I was very annoyed that this was something I had to deal with all over again.