When the Shadows Fall: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 14)

by Elise Noble

  “The pay was better. Plus Lillian said they were always busy so I could work as many hours as I wanted. They sent me on a course. It was only six weeks—not really long enough to learn everything, but it turned out that didn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The first day, they threw me in at the deep end. Six clients. I quickly worked out what the women liked and what they didn’t like. I’d left school to take the course, but I was still sleeping at home, and I earned enough to keep my car running. Then one day—three weeks in, maybe four—one of the regular clients asked for a seated Indian head massage. No problem, I was good at those. I was working the pressure points on her face when she unzipped my fly, and before I knew what the fuck was going on, she was on her knees with my cock in her mouth.”

  My gasp of shock drowned out several movie gunshots. “Are you serious?”

  He was. Deadly. There was no humour in his expression. In fact, he looked quite sick.

  “She gave me a two-hundred-dollar tip. Cash. She dropped it on the table when she left. But she came back three days later.”

  “She did the same again?”

  “That time, she wanted more. So I gave it to her. Judge me if you want, but I was a horny eighteen-year-old and four hundred dollars bought a heck of a lot of gas.”

  I’d never slept with anyone for money, but serving shots in a bikini top and a miniskirt so short it showed my ass cheeks meant I was no choirgirl.

  “I’m not judging.”

  Asher brushed the hair away from my face and studied me. “No, I don’t believe you are.” He took another swig of whiskey. “Turns out that when one of those women gets her claws into you, it’s just the beginning. She passed me around her friends like a party favour.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “At first, it wasn’t that bad. I mean, these trophy wives look after themselves. Everything’s nipped and tucked and frozen into place. But fuck, are they entitled. After a few months, the novelty of boning women all day, every day wore off and I realised I was nothing more than a trained monkey. But I was making more money than I’d ever had in my life, so I kept going. I hated myself, but I kept going.”

  “Didn’t your boss say anything? Lillian?”

  “I soon learned Lillian was more of a pimp than a beauty therapist. She had me tag-teaming with the other guys, and she was banging half of the husbands herself. I used to dream of going home and putting my feet up with a mug of fucking cocoa. By the end, I was swallowing little blue pills like candy to get it up and downing bourbon so I could face myself in the mornings.”

  “By the end? You quit?”

  “Not exactly. First, my dad died, and as soon as the funeral was over, the Rosenbergs started sniffing around. Then the FBI raided the country club, and the owner got arrested.”

  “For running a brothel?”

  “For money laundering. When the special agents arrived, I was stripping at Edwina Cunningham’s daughter’s bachelorette party, so I missed all the fun.” Asher mock-pouted and then spread his arms. “So here I am. Tired, jaded, and definitely not in the market for a hook-up. Those bitches literally wore out my dick.”

  Perhaps it was the alcohol, and perhaps it was the situation, but I looked at Asher, and he looked at me, and then we both began to laugh. And laugh and laugh and laugh.

  “We’re such a pair of fuck-ups,” I choked out.

  “I can still give you a massage if you want. I’m not bad at those.”

  Tears were streaming down my face. “You’re my perfect man. Is there anything left in that bottle?”

  “A mouthful.” He handed it over, then slung an arm over my shoulders. “C’mon. Let’s watch another movie and not have sex.”

  “Horror or romance?”

  “In our world, they’re the same thing, Chem.”

  I snuggled against his side. It felt nice. No pressure whatsoever, just warmth and friendship.

  “Homance it is, Shortcut.”

  CHAPTER 33 - SKY

  OH, NO.

  WHAT time was it?

  Late enough, or rather, early enough that I could make out the pair of bluebirds sitting on Asher’s windowsill, although they still looked grey and black instead of red and blue in the gloom. Asher’s chest rose and fell under my cheek, and he’d draped one arm loosely over my back, possibly to keep me from falling off the sofa.

  “Asher, wake up.” I poked his shoulder. “It’s morning.”

  “Wha…” He looked dorkily adorable as he rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Shit.”

  “I’ve got to go.” I rolled off him and looked for my shoes. There they were, next to the table. “Talk to you later.”

  “Wait.” He sat up, eyelids still at half mast. “We fell asleep?”

  “Sure looks that way. See you in biology. Don’t forget your textbook today.”

  I moved towards the window, but he caught my hand to hold me in place as he stood.

  “Sorry, I’m not good at mornings.”

  “No kidding. It’s Friday, just in case you’ve forgotten. You’ve got music theory first period.”

  Asher pressed his lips to my temple in a soft kiss, catching me by surprise.

  “Friday. Right. Thanks, Chem.”

  Then he slumped back onto the sofa and closed his eyes while I climbed out the window, twisted, and lowered myself off the sill by my fingertips. Once I was hanging straight, I let go, remembering to bend my knees when I landed.

  Had anyone seen me? Didn’t look like it. Phew. I was soon jogging through the woods, taking the long way back to New Hall. I only saw one person awake, a freshman doing what looked like Pilates on a stone terrace near Lower Hall. Some people were a little too keen.

  The window to my room was open, just the way I’d left it, and I swarmed up the tree like a hung-over monkey, slithered along an outstretched branch, and plopped onto the floor by my desk.

  The sight that greeted me was worse than any horror movie. Worse even than a romance movie. I froze, staring up at Vanessa as a million expletives jammed in my throat.

  “I don’t understand—Sky, what are these things?”

  Bugs. They were bugs. Eight or nine of them, nestled in coloured foil and little paper cases beside the box of “chocolates” Bethany had handed me on Tuesday.

  “What are you doing?” I rasped.

  “I got hungry. I didn’t think you’d mind. But these… They’re not candy. They look like something out of a spy movie.”

  “I can explain.”

  No, actually I couldn’t. Where did I even start? Had she managed to turn one on? It didn’t appear so. The switches were really tiny and hidden away on the sides.

  “They… I…”

  “Oh my gosh! Are you a spy?”

  “Yes. No. Sort of.” This was actually more uncomfortable than last night’s conversation with Asher, and I hadn’t thought anything would ever top that. “I work for a team of investigators.”

  “And you’re investigating…what? Is it something to do with cheating? Because I heard a rumour that somebody stole a test paper.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with the students.”

  Her eyes ballooned. “Then who? A teacher? No way! Is it a sex scandal? Mr. Teller looks at the freshmen real funny, but I don’t think he actually follows through.”

  “Vanessa, you can’t say a word.”

  “My lips are sealed.” She mimed zipping up her mouth and throwing away the key. “See? This is so exciting!”

  Should I trust her? I’d already told so many lies it was hard to keep up with the truth. What would Emmy do? Dammit, I should have kept my earpiece in twenty-four seven. This was what happened when I allowed myself to get distracted. When I let feelings get in the way of my job. Vanessa was still staring at me, her mouth slightly open. I had to trust her, didn’t I? If I kept prevaricating, I’d only dig myself into a deeper hole.

  “It’s the Rosenbergs.”

  “The Rosenbergs? But…but they’re good
people.”

  “There may be others involved too.”

  “Why? What have they done? No, no, they can’t have done anything. They wouldn’t.”

  “We think they’ve stolen some paintings.”

  “Paintings? They’ve got hundreds of paintings here. Why would they steal more?”

  “These are expensive paintings. Masterpieces. The Shepherd’s Watch got lifted during a charity dinner last month, and we think they might have taken it. They were there.”

  Vanessa gaped at me for a full twenty seconds, and then her eyes hardened. “So? I bet other people were there too. Are you investigating all of them?”

  “The painting was passed to a man posing as a waiter, and we tailed him all the way to the school gates.”

  “There must have been a mistake. Your people probably followed the wrong car or something.”

  “That’s what I’m here to find out.”

  What a bloody mess. My first undercover job and I’d screwed it up totally. Why hadn’t I hidden the damn chocolates? I knew Vanessa had a sweet tooth.

  “So you’re trying to get the Rosenbergs sent to prison, and when you don’t find any evidence, then you’ll just disappear?” Vanessa folded her arms. “Is that why you’re spending so much time with Asher? Because he’s a Rosenberg?”

  “No! I like Asher. I really do.”

  “That’s even worse. You’re going to break his heart.”

  “I know.” And quite possibly, I’d break my own heart in the process too. I slumped onto the bed. “That’s the worst part of this.”

  “What about me? I thought we were friends. Is that all an act too?”

  “It’s not an act. And at this rate, I’ll be here until the end of the school year anyway.”

  “So you haven’t found anything? I’m not surprised.”

  “Neither am I. This isn’t a regular gang of thieves. They use the postal service to communicate, for crying out loud. They’re stuck in the Stone Age.”

  “The postal service? How do you even know?”

  “From a… Well, I guess you’d call him an informant.” Yes, we’d kind of kidnapped Marshall, but he was informing us of stuff, so the description still fit. “The gang sends instructions out to their minions by mail, telling them to steal paintings. Like a work order. Do this, do that… The letters come from all over the place, though, so we can’t track them down through those.”

  Vanessa stopped waving her arms and froze in much the same way as I had earlier. Was it me or had she paled a shade or two?

  “Letters? Oh my gosh.” Her turn to collapse onto her bed. “What do they say? The letters? Tell me.”

  “I haven’t actually seen one myself. Why?”

  Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I think I might have.”

  “Might have what?”

  “Seen one.”

  “Huh?”

  “A couple of years ago. We have a letter-writing club that meets on Tuesday evenings, but I haven’t been for weeks because we’ve been hanging out, and…anyway, we write to people. Like, people we don’t know. Seniors in residential homes, and kids in hospitals, that sort of thing. Sometimes we send pictures or little gifts, and we collect all the cards into a big box. Mostly we mail them from Shadow Falls, but if we go home, or on vacation, we each take a handful and mail them from someplace else. Because then people get surprise letters and cards from all over the world, see? And some enthusiasts collect the stamps too. What do you call them? Phlebotomists?”

  Why was she asking me? “I’ve got no bloody idea.”

  Vanessa already had her phone in her hand, checking. “Philatelists. They’re philatelists.”

  I needed to get this back on track. “And you think somebody in the club was sending these letters?”

  “Not somebody. Mrs. Austen. Saul Rosenberg’s assistant? She organises everything.”

  Was Vanessa serious? The Rosenbergs were using schoolkids as unwitting accomplices?

  “What makes you say that?”

  “When I used to spend vacations at home, I took letters back to California to mail. And one time, I accidentally spilled coffee on an envelope. So I figured I’d just take the contents out, put the stuff in a fresh envelope, stick on a new stamp, and send it. I remember hunting for a stamp while my mom and her boyfriend were yelling at each other in the next room.”

  “And?”

  “And they split up real soon after.”

  “I mean what happened with the letter?”

  “Oh, yeah. It was weird. There was a card with photos of three paintings stuck on the front. And inside, it said something like ‘Confirmed at 900.’”

  “That is weird. But why do you think that has anything to do with this investigation? I’m not saying it doesn’t, but…”

  “Because the paintings on the front were all stolen a month later. I recognised them on the news. And I thought it was weird, but they were all in the same gallery, so I figured maybe someone bought a cheap card from the gift shop.”

  “And why do you think Mrs. Austen was involved?”

  “Because it was her handwriting on the inside. She always writes her nines really odd, like g’s, so it looked like ‘Confirmed at goo.’ Did I participate in an art theft? What if I did? What if it was my fault? I didn’t know!”

  “You did nothing wrong. Nobody knew, not even the FBI.”

  “The FBI? You work for the FBI?”

  “No, their investigation’s separate. I need to call my boss, okay? Please, please can you keep your mouth shut about this?”

  “What’ll happen? If the Rosenbergs go to jail, what’ll happen to the school? To us? I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  And neither did Asher.

  “I’m sure they’ll just get some new teachers.” At least, I hoped so. The Rosenbergs did seem integral to the running of Shadow Falls Academy. “Ones who aren’t criminals.”

  “But what about our exams? Our grades? If we have a whole new set of teachers, they won’t know us. They won’t know the school. We can’t—”

  I grabbed Vanessa’s waving hands. “You can. People have died because of these thefts. More people will die if the Rosenbergs aren’t stopped.”

  “But…” A tear rolled down Vanessa’s cheek. “I hate this. Hate it. I wish I’d never tried to eat those damn chocolates.”

  You and me both.

  “Will you please stay quiet? Just for a short while?”

  Vanessa took a deep breath. Her bottom lip quivered. “I won’t say anything. But you have to tell me what’s going on, okay? I can’t afford to mess up my education.”

  “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

  Now what? The job was in danger of going to shit, and I had to call Emmy, but I didn’t particularly fancy doing it in front of Vanessa. So I changed into running gear, shinned down the tree, and headed up the hill to Asher’s shed. That seemed like the safest place for a private conversation. Apart from a new spiderweb in the doorway, it was exactly as we’d left it.

  “Hi, it’s Sky.”

  “Afternoon, sleepyhead. Good night, was it? Tired?”

  I knew exactly what she was thinking. “It wasn’t like that. I fell asleep on Asher’s sofa while we were watching a movie.”

  “Sure, okay. You’re eighteen—just be careful.”

  “I’m trying, but there’s been a slight technical hitch.”

  Emmy’s voice changed. The playfulness went out of it. “What kind of technical hitch?”

  “Vanessa knows why I’m here now. She found the chocolate bugs when she got peckish, and once she started asking questions, it turned out she actually had some information.”

  “What information?”

  I told Emmy about the letters, and she gave a low whistle. “That’s cold. Roping the kids in to act as mules? Cunning, but cold.”

  “I’m so, so sorry Vanessa found out. She says she won’t tell.”

  “It’s called recruitment, Sky. We all do it. That’s literally how ev
ery intelligence agency in the world operates. The execution could use a little work in your case, but the end result is that we have new information we didn’t have before. The brevity of the wording she described fits with what Marshall told us, by the way.”

  “So we’ve got another name?”

  “Seems that way. Can you get a bug under that woman’s desk?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Take your time. Things are heading in the right direction, and we don’t want any screw-ups because you’re rushing.”

  “Rune leaves on Monday.”

  “We’ll cover for her. We have enough science experts at Blackwood.”

  “How much longer do you think I’ll be here?”

  “How long is a piece of string? Don’t you have classes to go to?”

  “First period starts in fifteen minutes.”

  “Then get your ass there. Check in later with an update, and I’ll tell Nate to find a better hiding place for his bugs. Fucking chocolates. What if Vanessa broke a tooth?”

  Yet again, it seemed I’d gotten away with a mistake, but I couldn’t continue making them. There was only so much shit that could slide off me. Sooner or later, it would start sticking. I only hoped it wouldn’t stick to Asher and Vanessa too.

  CHAPTER 34 - SKY

  AFTER THE DRAMA of Friday morning, the rest of the day was somewhat of an anticlimax. Rune talked me through my classes, and I felt a pang of sorrow when she signed off in the evening. I’d miss her voice when she left. She cracked jokes and told me stories from her own lessons. Ryder was quieter, and Sofia was a lunatic.

  I spent the evening with Asher again, although I did go to his apartment via Mrs. Austen’s desk with one of the chocolate bugs. Vanessa seemed almost disappointed when I told her I was fine doing the spy stuff, as she called it, on my own.

  Things were a lot more relaxed between Asher and me that night. No difficult conversations, just popcorn, ice cream, and a reasonably good movie. I got a kiss on the forehead, and I was back in my bed by one a.m., which meant I got six hours’ sleep before the shit hit the fan again the next morning. And for once, it wasn’t my fault.