Blood. Why could I smell it all of a sudden? I sniffed the air like a dog. The metallic scent was definitely coming from the bathroom. I’d followed the coppery smell over the trail of papers and into the excessively large master bathroom suite when the wind got kicked right out of me. My mom’s sink was full of bloodstained water and more papers. The drain was actually blocked, holding it all there for me. I pulled out some of the papers and let them drip on the floor.
Red streaks covered the countertop and mirror. Mom must have resisted. I was horrified by my reflection—it looked like I was covered in blood. Like some magic mirror had finally revealed the real me.
Red Ruby Rose, stained in blood.
More papers were strewn across the drawers and shelves, all of them soaked in watery blood. I put them together on the bath mat to figure out what they could be. Knowing Silver, I had to assume they had meaning.
It was a pleading, and the caption read “In the Matter of the Custody of the Minor Child Hailey Bracken.” It was a Notice of Hearing on a Petition to Terminate Parental Rights. I dropped to my knees, desperate for more information. I found pieces of the Petition with my mom’s signature, then another signature on a paper titled “Affidavit of Guardian Ad Litem.” She hadn’t had physical custody of the child but had closely monitored the girl’s care, nutrition, and well-being. That much I got.
Through the scattered and blood-soaked puzzle pieces, a story started to unfold. Fifteen years ago, my mom was appointed temporary Guardian Ad Litem of a baby. The baby’s mom was on drugs, the baby had been neglected, and my mom terminated the bio mom’s rights. No mention of any dad. All I could find was “Abandonment by biological father, name unknown.”
During my mom’s Family Court days, she must have been appointed Guardian Ad Litem for dozens of children. Did this have something to do with Silver? Was he the one who’d abandoned his child? Was my original theory correct, and he was paying my mom back by slowly taking away everything she had? Did he intend to destroy her by destroying me, too?
Suddenly, her phone rang, the high-pitched ringtone frazzling what was left of my nerves. I followed the sound back to the bed and picked up her cell. Unknown number.
“Hello?” My voice cracked.
“Hello, Ruby,” a male voice said. It sent shivers down my spine.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“Do you remember the last day you saw your father?” he said in a deep Batman-type whisper.
Of course I remembered. I remembered it every day. “Why? What are you planning to do to my mother?”
“Do you remember?” he repeated.
“Yes! OK, I remember.” I tried to remain calm. “Listen, whatever she did to you and your family, she’s sorry.” It wasn’t working. I was losing control. “We’re sorry—”
“Then remember last night, because unless you get here fast enough to save your mother, it will be her last night.”
I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
“Just so you know, Mr. Violet is also waiting for you.”
My heart sank. He must’ve taken Violet right after I left. Or maybe Silver had been there when I visited earlier.
“We are both waiting for you,” he said carefully. “I know I don’t need to tell you this, but if you call the police, you might as well call the morgue, because she will already be dead. We’re going to finish this just as it began—on Grissom Island. The place your father tried to bury the truth. More detailed instructions will be sent to your phone. Good-bye, Ruby.”
I held my mom’s phone long after the line went dead.
I had no idea what kind of delusional truth Silver was referring to, but a sharp reality lodged itself inside of me: This man had killed my father. I was sure of it now. My dad was murdered. Assassinated. By the same man who’d officially destroyed my life.
I’d believed knowing the truth would finally set me free. Instead, it crushed me. And hardened me. I vowed to make Silver pay.
If there was one way I could honor my father, it was to remember what he’d taught me. I couldn’t react emotionally. I had to be logical and strategic.
Silver had said he’d know if I called the police, so either he had a scanner or a rat on the inside who would tip him off. In any case, he couldn’t expect me to go in there alone. I longed for Liam. He was smart. He saw things I didn’t. I needed him, and my own mom had made sure I couldn’t have him.
I checked the call history on Mom’s phone. One name stood out among all the others: Mark Mathews—the man who let my dad die and then took his place as SWAT Sergeant. Why was my mom talking to my dad’s old best friend at 11:25 p.m.? And again at 11:52? Plus several missed calls through the night?
Was she sleeping with him, just like she had with Martinez? Or could it be they were working together on catching the man behind all this madness? Or both? My mom was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d probably known from the night I killed LeMarq that there was someone manipulating me. That the same man who killed her husband was following me, luring me, torturing me. And she’d never said a word.
She’d betrayed me so deeply for so long. Lied to me, hidden things from me, imprisoned Liam—when none of it was even my fault. It was hers. This madman was tormenting me for her crimes. Her secrets. She’d destroyed his family, and now he was destroying hers, and mine. And also destroying Liam’s to spite me.
Yet, she was my mother, and I wouldn’t do to her what she had done to me. I wouldn’t abandon her—I had to save her. I stared at the phone in my hand, weighing my options.
Go in alone, like he said.
Call 911 for help.
Trust Mathews—my dad’s best friend, my mom’s ally, the man who used to be like a second father to me but still refused to speak to me. Even after he came to the hospital after the fire.
Maybe all three. I would do whatever it took to bring Silver to justice.
I touched the screen over Mathews’s name and waited for the ring.
“Jane, why haven’t you been answering? I’ve been calling—”
“It’s Ruby.” I stopped him. “She’s gone. He’s taken her.”
He paused, like he needed some extra time to process my voice.
“Ruby? What happened? Where are you?”
“I’m at home—in her room,” I said. “There’s blood, and papers. A man called and said to come to where my father tried to bury the truth. Grissom Island. And if I called the police, she’d be dead.”
I switched hands holding the phone, thinking my hand was sweaty from nerves. But when I looked down at my pants, I realized sweat wasn’t making my hand slippery—it was blood. Her blood.
“Listen, Ruby,” he said calmly, just like my dad used to even when he was stressed. “Don’t move. I’ll send a team to your house to protect you. I’ll take care of this.”
“No, that’s not how it’s going to happen,” I said with surprising authority. “I’m going in. Alone. That’s what he wants. He’s too smart. Too prepared. Anything else and she dies. Wait for my call. Then and only then you can move in.”
“Honey, please don’t—”
“Don’t call me honey!” I snarled into the phone. “I’ve been through too much to be treated like a child. And you know me better than that.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, backtracking. “I just need you to understand who you’re dealing with.”
What? Did he know about Silver, too? Did everyone but me know my mom’s secrets?
“Oh I understand who I’m dealing with all right,” I snapped. “I think you and the whole police department are the ones who don’t understand.” I felt a wave of long-building anger rolling in. “It’s been nearly a year since my father was murdered, and you and your SWAT brothers have conveniently forgotten about him and his case. So much for honor, courage, and commitment.” I felt for the Challenge Coin in my pocket. “You let him die, and now you’ve let his memory die by ignoring the justice he
deserves. I thought you loved him. I thought you loved me! How could you keep denying me the information I deserve and…sleep with my mom?”
Wow, where did that come from?
“Wait right there, Ruby.” Mathews’s tone shut me down. “First of all, I am not sleeping with your mother. That was Detective Martinez’s mistake, not mine. Second, I did love your father. He was the most courageous man I ever knew. He taught me honor and commitment. And I love you, too. It was your mother who forbade me—forbade us all—to speak to you. She told us to stay away. That in your emotional state you couldn’t bear it. I respected her wishes to keep you protected from the darkness surrounding their very public lives and your father’s very public death. I see now that it was a mistake, and I’m sorry. As soon as I get the chance, I’ll give you the whole truth. But not now. So please, just let me take care of this. Do you hear me?”
My mind raced to take it all in: First, Mathews wasn’t the traitor I thought he was—and maybe I could even trust him. Second, there was no end to my mom’s betrayal. And third, I had to get to Grissom Island before Mathews.
“Don’t move in until I call you,” I said before hanging up.
I ran to my bathroom to wash the blood off my hands, and then to Gladys to change into black clothes and shoes. Everything was already laid out—gun, holster, and all—just in case. I didn’t bother with the window this time—just ran downstairs, opened the sliding back door, and bolted for the wall. I didn’t even care if the obviously incompetent guards saw me. As soon as I made it to my neighbor’s Ducati, it wouldn’t matter anymore.
CHAPTER 28
When I was a kid, my third-grade class took a field trip to Grissom Island. I remembered learning three things that day:
1. Grissom Island was one of four man-made islands on the Long Beach coast named after fallen astronauts.
2. The islands were built to hide some of the nation’s largest and most productive oil-drilling rigs.
3. From shore, they all looked like something you might see at Disneyland. Grissom Island was definitely eye candy—encased in an elaborate facade decked with swaying palm trees, huge waterfalls, and castle-like towers…all built to mask the dirty rigs.
I’d once asked my dad if princesses lived on the islands, and he said, smiling, “Only when they’re on vacation.”
I doubted he was smiling the day he went there and got blown to pieces.
Shaking off the image, I pulled into the harbor parking lot nearest the island. The sleek digital clock on the Ducati’s dash read 4:46 a.m. It had only taken me twenty minutes at 100+ miles per hour to get here—even against the wicked wind trying to blow me back. The sun wouldn’t show up for another ninety minutes or so, but the harbor security likely would. I had to move if I didn’t want to be seen.
In thirty seconds flat, I parked the bike, removed the helmet, and took cover behind a building marked “Shoreline Yacht Club.” I reached into The Cleave for my phone and pulled up the waiting messages.
One from Mathews read:
Don’t do this. Call me immediately.
The next from Sammy read:
On my way.
I shook my head, not believing what I’d done. Halfway to Long Beach, I’d stopped and sent him a text.
I’m coming thru on our agreement. If u want the story of ur life, u and ur cameras better get to Grissom Island asap. Tell Sgt Mathews I told u to come. I need this on film.
Even seeing his name on the screen made me want to jump into the harbor and wash myself off. But he was my insurance. Like Liam pointed out all those weeks ago, the police would never believe me if I didn’t have any proof. This time I planned to give them footage they couldn’t ignore. It was a long shot—not just because Mathews might not let Sammy and his camera tag along, but because I could bet my life that Silver wouldn’t strike a pose for me. But I had to try if it gave me a way to exonerate Liam.
I skipped to the last text, from the unknown number:
Find Boat Slip K-11—Gate K is wedged open. Take the orange kayak to southern rim. Meet us in the large white building at the heart of the island.
Great. I took a long hard look at the obstacle course before me.
The coastline was in darkness. But not Grissom Island. The decorative pink, yellow, and blue lighting lit up the sea. The sound of the crashing waterfalls consumed the area. If I hadn’t known better, I could’ve mistaken this place for Fantasy Island. Too bad I knew exactly what it was—a veneer. A good place to hide secrets. Or even better, a great place to dig them up and bury them again.
A sliver of lightning cut through the sky, momentarily highlighting the entire scene and pointing out how isolated this place really was. It was basically in the middle of the ocean. Not only was getting on the island undetected going to be difficult, but the place was an underground maze. Even if Silver had taken out the island’s private security team and I could make it ashore, I was essentially walking into a dark and potentially explosive trap.
Getting off the island would be another mess. That was assuming any of us would be getting off alive.
Worst of all, a thunderstorm was coming. The shape of the encroaching fog looked like a monster about to swallow this place whole. The thought of traveling over those turbulent waters on a kayak—in the dark—required courage enough.
Someone was going to die on Grissom, I was sure of it.
Maybe my mom.
Maybe Violet—the last man standing on my list.
Maybe me.
Silver had outsmarted me at every turn. The chances of this time being any different were low. I accepted my odds. But I still had a brain. Only half a soul, perhaps, but definitely a fully functioning mind.
And hope. I still had shreds of that, too.
I spotted Gate K—about fifty feet away.
All of a sudden I felt like praying. I didn’t even know how—I’d never done it before. But I figured it certainly couldn’t hurt.
I muttered some “please helps” into the phone I clutched, like maybe the cell had God’s number on speed dial and like maybe I deserved the help (which I wasn’t sure I did). I may not have been raised religious, but I’d heard of the Ten Commandments, and I was pretty sure the whole Thou shalt not kill thing was still high on that list. My mom’s cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and stared at the angrily blinking red light, wondering if Silver had found out I called Sergeant Mathews and was now sending me a picture of my mom’s corpse.
I tasted the bile rising inside me.
Pulling myself together, I turned on Mom’s phone to see who the message was from. Mathews. It read:
DON’T GO IN. My team is eight min out.
My phone vibrated again. Another message from Mathews:
WE will take him out. I promise Ruby. I want justice for your dad just as much as you do. PLEASE don’t go in. Respond.
Maybe he thought bombarding me on both phones would delay me.
But it wouldn’t. I had to get inside, and now. I didn’t doubt Silver’s ability to kill and disappear. Just like with that girl on Ninth Street, if I didn’t do something, my mom would die. How could I live with myself if I stayed out here and did nothing?
I typed:
I’m already in. DO NOT move in until I contact you. I have a plan.
Who did I think I was? Not in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d be ordering the SWAT Sergeant around. If I just waited a few minutes, they could escort me in. Or we could come up with a plan together. After all, they’d have the schematics of the island. And ten guns had to be better than one.
Except ten guns hadn’t been enough to save my dad. I couldn’t put my mom’s life in their hands when I knew with certainty what the result would be.
I wouldn’t kill her by disobeying Silver’s instructions.
I pulled my gun out of the holster inside my black hoodie and tried the gate. Just like he’d said, the heavy door was wedged open by what looked like a shoe. And not just any shoe. One of the $900 Christ
ian Louboutin “Love Me” 100 mm heels my mom was wearing last night before she took them off to run away from me. This sicko was taunting me again. There was absolutely no need to bring such a perfectly beautiful pair of shoes into this!
I went through the gate and re-wedged the shoe behind me. Slip K-11 was hard to miss. It was the only slip without a million-dollar yacht. Waiting for me was more like a hundred-dollar piece of crap—a plastic kayak. I bit my lip as I descended the ladder, climbed into the unsteady craft, and began paddling toward the island with quick strokes across my body like my dad taught me.
It took me only a few minutes to navigate out of the dock and enter the open sea toward the southern perimeter of the island where the waves swelled around me. Ignoring the thoughts of what lay beneath and beyond, I concentrated on getting to the shore. The icy water slapping me in the face, the choppy wakes making me sick, and the fear bullying me backward wouldn’t stop me.
Finally, I reached land. I shoved the stupid kayak onto the rocks and climbed the boulders to the top. Gun out, eyes up, arms wobbly from the paddling, I sprinted to the only big, white building I could see and hid behind a buzzing electrical box. I scanned the outside of the building until I found what I was looking for—a circular metal plate covering the ground. There was a chance in the darkness and fog that Silver might have lost sight of me (if he was watching) and wouldn’t catch me entering from below.
I strained to pull up the plate, then lowered myself into the dark, relying on the feel of each metal rung of the ladder and hoping my eyes would adjust. I couldn’t see how far it was to the bottom, but it felt never-ending. Like this tunnel led to China. Or straight to the fiery depths of hell—where Silver belonged.
For every inch I descended, my heart rate exponentially ascended. I couldn’t take much more of this.
Killing Ruby Rose (The Ruby Rose Series) Page 24