“I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do. She’s your mother. I know you, Nicole. You’re stressed out and overwhelmed, but we’re going to figure this out. Besides, what about Lauren Lockwood? Are you just going to leave her to fend for herself?”
I hesitated, turning away from Wes so he couldn’t read the expression on my face.
“We’re basically the reason her father’s dead, you know,” he continued, taking another bite of his apple. “He died trying to save us. You may not owe Natasha anything, but Lauren has saved your ass multiple times.”
“Fine, you’re right,” I conceded. I kicked the counter out of frustration but instead of relieving my anger, I only succeeded in bruising my big toe. “For one minute, though, you couldn’t have just entertained the thought of getting out of here? Would it have been that hard to pretend that we could just run away without having to worry about saving anyone else?”
He chewed thoughtfully before answering. “I don’t see the point of wasting time imagining a better world. After all, since the dawn of time, humankind has always had to fight for a better world. I doubt the universe would excuse us from the battle simply because we asked it to.”
Across the room, Henry’s phone plinked out a merry tune that failed to match the strained atmosphere. Wes and I quelled our conversation as he prodded the screen to answer the incoming call.
“Hello? Oh, Olivia. One second.” Henry wandered over to the kitchen island, turned on his speakerphone, and placed his cell in the center of the counter for all of us to hear. “Any news on Flynn or the library?”
“In part. Lauren’s here too by the way.”
“Hi, everyone,” said Lauren.
Olivia’s voice was grainy over the call as she took over the conversation again. “Henry, did I miss something, or did you intentionally send your wife in here to surrender Holden Hastings and the Raptors’ charter? Because honestly I’m failing to see how that’s going to help us.”
Wes shot me a concerned look, but I only shrugged. I had half-expected this was the case. From the few conversations I’d had with Natasha, her fear of Catherine Flynn’s influence had shone through. But what had she hoped to gain by handing over the charter?
“Natasha gave us the slip,” said Henry, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the kitchen counter.
“Why?”
“Because apparently she killed Catherine’s husband,” I said.
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Lauren asked, “Wait, do you mean Uncle Harrison?”
“That’s the one.”
“Nicole, my uncle isn’t dead.”
My gaze snapped up to meet Henry’s. I snatched the phone from the counter, holding it to my ear just in case I had misheard something. “What did you just say?”
“My uncle is not dead,” repeated Lauren. “In fact, you’ve met him.”
“Who is it?” I demanded.
“Do you remember Ben? The guy who owns the bookstore that we hid out in?”
“You told me Ben didn’t know anything about BRS!”
“I also told you that he was my half-uncle on my mother’s side,” Lauren reminded me. “I lied. He’s been hiding out in that bookstore under an alias since before I was born. My aunt thinks he’s dead. I guess now we know why.”
“Hang on,” interrupted Wes. “Are you saying that Flynn sent her own husband to his death just to have a crime to pin on Natasha?”
“It would seem so,” said Lauren.
“I can’t believe Harrison decided to stay so close to Waverly,” I said. “What made him so sure that Flynn or one of the other Raptors wouldn’t find out about him?”
“I asked him the same thing,” said Lauren. “He told me hiding in plain sight was always the best way to go. And he wanted to keep an eye on me to make sure I was safe.”
I took a deep breath. “Lauren, how long has it been since you’ve had a normal family reunion?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Nicole.”
Henry cleared his throat. “All right, let’s get back on track here, ladies. Olivia, can we assume that Natasha wanted something from Flynn in return for the charter?”
“Yeah, she told Flynn that she could do whatever she wanted with her as long as the three of you were safe from the Raptors,” explained Olivia.
I sighed. I had been wrong. Natasha hadn’t abandoned us. She had compromised her own well-being in order to protect us.
“That’s not all though,” said Lauren. “Natasha promised to manipulate Nicole into giving up her attempts to expose the Raptors.”
My eyelids drifted shut. “Of course she did.”
Wes took my hand in his. “I’m sure she only did it to get Flynn to back off,” he said. He looked across at Henry. “What now?”
“We track down this Harrison Flynn,” replied Henry, rubbing his forehead as if he had a migraine. “Without the charter, it’s the only lead we have. If we can prove to Natasha that Harrison is still alive, then Flynn will no longer have a hold over her. Natasha knows more than anyone else about Flynn’s murders. We could’ve bagged the Raptors years ago if Natasha had been willing to share her side of the story. What’s the address of this bookstore, Lauren?”
“Nicole already knows where it is, but I’m afraid convincing my uncle to come forward won’t be as easy as it sounds,” said Lauren.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s terrified of my aunt,” she replied. “It’s the reason he went into hiding. After all, she fully expected Natasha to kill him.”
“I don’t see another way out of this,” said Henry. “Olivia, can you stall Flynn from making any decisions regarding my wife? We’ll need a couple hours to get back over to your side of town and to find this Harrison fellow.”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” came Olivia’s reply.
“Great. We’ll keep you posted on our progress,” said Henry. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
Henry hung up the phone and looked at Wes and me.
“Take two,” he said.
Since Natasha had taken the red pickup truck back to Waverly, Henry asked one of his neighbors closer to the center of town if we could borrow a car. We ended up in a two-door rusty bucket of a vehicle with a groan under the hood, questionably placed snowchains on its tires, and a nonexistent backseat. Henry drove as I navigated, and Wes rode behind us with his knees tucked into his chest. As the car bounced into the parking lot of a bookstore near the Waverly campus called Floorboard Lit, I braced myself. The suspension wasn’t fantastic either.
“Is this it?” asked Henry, peering at the small shop through the window of our borrowed clunker. He steered the car into the nearest parking spot.
“Yup,” I said. I plucked the door lock up. The car was so old that it still had manual locks and cranks to roll the windows up down. It was a miracle the damn thing still ran.
“Hold on.” Wes reached forward to push my hand away from the door handle. “Is it wise for you to go in, Nicole? What if there’s a stray Raptor inside?”
“Out of the three of us, I’m the only one that Harrison has actually met before,” I pointed out. “And he knows that Lauren and I are in this together. If anyone is going to convince him to come with us to Waverly, it’s going to be me.”
“I sure as hell hope he’s got a vehicle we can borrow because all four of us ain’t going to fit in this one,” grumbled Henry. As if in protest, the car exhaled a puff of black exhaust.
I shoved open the stubborn passenger side door and stepped out, rolling my shoulders and stretching out both sides of my neck. It hadn’t been a comfortable journey. I leaned down to look at Henry through the window.
“Keep it running,” I said. “Just in case.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
The sun was already high in the sky, beaming down on me. I shrugged off my heavy outer coat as I walked up the porch steps and into Floorboard Lit. Like t
he last time I had been here, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries wafted out from the cafe area of the renovated house. The cozy store would’ve been a perfect place to study, and I wished I had found it before the Raptors had ruined my chances at obtaining my master’s degree.
With a sigh, I wandered past the shelves of books and into the cafe. Harrison, or Ben as he was called nowadays, bustled about behind the counter, tending to a respectable line of waiting patrons with the help of an assistant barista. I watched from the rear of the queue, trying to marry the image I’d had in my head of Catherine Flynn’s once-husband with the actual person standing mere feet away from me. This man had once been my father’s best friend before Harrison’s ingrained loyalty to the Raptors had forced him to betray Anthony. Then again, it was no secret that Flynn had always been a master manipulator, even during her undergraduate years. Still, other than Natasha, Harrison was the closest link I had to my father.
“What can I get you?” asked Harrison, labeling a cup with a permanent marker as I approached the counter.
“A shot of espresso and a private word with you if you don’t mind,” I said.
He glanced up at me. At first, I wondered if he didn’t remember me, but the tiniest glint of recognition shimmered in his eyes before he looked around the shop nervously.
“I’m interested in an early edition of a book,” I added hastily. At first, I hadn’t known just how careful Harrison was about his identity. Now I realized that it bordered on paranoia. “Albert Camus. L’Étranger. I heard you might have a copy from 1955.”
“Yeah, in the next room over,” called Harrison over his shoulder as he manned the espresso machine. “Give me a minute.”
“I’m actually kind of in a hurry,” I pressed. “It’s urgent. The book… it’s, uh, for Salander.”
At the mention of Lauren’s code name, a small espresso cup fell from Harrison’s hand and shattered on the floor. His assistant barista, a squat brunette that effortlessly swirled a cappuccino into existence with deft hands, waved him away from the shards of glass.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Harrison. “Do you mind taking over for a few minutes? I need to help this customer.”
“No problem.”
Harrison ducked under the countertop, guiding me away from the busy cafe with his hand at the small of my back. We shuffled into the next room over, where Harrison closed the door behind us. In the corner of this room, I knew that a concealed trapdoor led to a secret basement. It was where Lauren and I had originally convened to solve the first set of mysteries that the Raptors had left for us.
“What are you doing back here?” asked Harrison hastily. “Where’s my niece?”
The room was small. I stood close to Harrison and had to crank my neck back to look him in the eye. “Lauren’s fine. For now, at least. But we need your help.”
“With what?”
“Do you remember a woman named Natasha Petrov?” I asked. “She’s in trouble. With your ex-wife.”
Harrison pressed his lips together. “I should’ve known from the moment you walked in here that I would get dragged into this eventually.”
“Did you know who I was?”
He scoffed. “Of course I did. You look exactly like Anthony. How could I mistake you for anyone but his daughter? His death still haunts me. On the other hand, I’ve been trying to forget about Natasha for years.”
“I can’t imagine why,” I said in a biting tone. “You did try to kill her. And me, come to think of it.”
“You don’t understand what it was like—”
I stopped him with a raised hand. “I’m not here to place blame or ruin your cover. You did what you thought was necessary. I get it. But if you want vindication, you’re going to have to come clean.”
“I’m not following.”
“Catherine Flynn has my mother,” I said. “Natasha still believes that she killed you. Flynn’s been holding it over her head, but if you come with us, we have the chance to save her before the Raptors can hurt her.”
“I can’t—”
“Before you finish that sentence, I just want you to know that I have a federal agent on my side,” I interjected. “This isn’t some half-baked scheme for revenge. We’re finally putting an end to the Black Raptor Society, but we need you to help us.”
Harrison considered me. I could see the cogs turning in his mind as he pondered his options, but as his brown eyes darkened, my heart sank.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Nicole. I can’t risk it.”
“But if you just—”
Harrison slammed a hand against the wall. I winced as antique books cascaded from the shelves and settled at our feet.
“No,” said Harrison firmly. He squatted down, unearthed a book from the rubble, and offered it to me. “L’Etranger. Take it and go. Don’t contact me again. And tell Lauren to check in with me.”
I took the book and let myself out of the small room. I turned back to face Harrison. “If you really cared about Lauren, you would come with us to Waverly.”
And then I left, ignoring the curious stares I received from the other patrons in the cafe. In the parking lot, I climbed into the corroded car. Wes and Henry waited patiently for my report.
“Well?” prompted Henry.
“Give him a minute,” I replied, watching the door of Floorboard Lit.
But the parking lot was silent save for the rumbling of the car engine.
“What are we waiting for?” grumbled Wes.
“A change of heart,” I said. “Wait for it.”
A moment later, Harrison pushed open the front door of the bookstore, spotted our sad excuse for a vehicle, and jogged over. He knocked on my window, which I coaxed down with the stiff crank.
“Fine,” he declared. “For Lauren’s sake. That girl has so much potential, and it’s wasted on that damn society. Where are we going?”
“Back to Waverly,” I said.
It was at that moment the car chose to shudder and die, the engine abruptly cutting off with an anguished groan. I rolled my eyes, but before any of us could voice a complaint, my phone buzzed, displaying Lauren’s number on the screen.
“Hey, Lauren,” I answered. “How’s it going?”
“Not good,” she said in a low, terse voice. “You need to get here as quickly as possible, Nicole.”
The hair at the back of my neck prickled. “Why? What happened?”
“My aunt doesn’t want to use Natasha to control you,” whispered Lauren. “Olivia and I heard her talking. Flynn’s planning to kill her.”
My entire body stiffened, and I rode out a wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. “We’re close,” I told Lauren. “We’ll be there soon.”
“Just hurry.”
The line went dead. I looked up at Harrison.
“We need a favor,” I said to him. “Can you give us a ride?”
35
Thankfully, Harrison drove a mid-sized crossover, roomy enough for all of us to fit comfortably and agile enough to weave in and out of traffic doing ninety miles an hour. I braced myself against the bench seat, my eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of some terrible accident, but it seemed that Harrison Flynn was no stranger to reckless driving. Whether his skill on the road was instinctive or left over from his time with the Black Raptor Society, it was oddly impressive to watch his thought process as he methodically checked his mirrors and concentrated on getting us to Natasha in time. We weren’t headed to Waverly though. Lauren had provided the address of a Catholic church close to campus. Apparently, with the Raptors’ clubhouse out of commission, Catherine Flynn was in need of a new office for her backdoor deals.
When we arrived at St. Dismas, Harrison screeched to a halt on the front curb. I leapt from the backseat, grabbed Harrison’s hand, and hauled him up the steps to the church. Behind us, I heard Wes and Henry’s doors slam. Then, very distinctly, the mechanical clicks of Wes readying his Glock reache
d my ears.
We hurried through the rooms of the church, on high alert for any other members of the Raptors who might be awaiting our arrival. With the element of surprise on our side, we were lucky. Except for the echoes of our hasty footsteps, the church was quiet and serene. I caught sight of Olivia, waving at us from behind the altar, and beelined for her.
“Is this him?” she whispered, giving Harrison a once-over. She gave Wes and Henry each a curt nod by way of greeting.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Where’s Lauren?”
“In the basement,” she said. She jerked her head over her shoulder to indicate the staircase. “Let’s go, but keep a sharp eye, people. Wickes and Brooks are down there too. For once, we outnumber them, but Flynn always has something up her sleeve.”
We fell into a single file line, following behind Olivia as she led us down the stairwell. I kept Harrison in front of me. With every step downward, he succumbed to a severe case of the shakes, his whole body trembling furiously. I half expected him to lose his nerve and bolt back up to the main hall of the church, but he remained steadfast, keeping close to Olivia’s heels. At the bottom of the staircase, the sound of a conversation floated toward us, and Olivia gave us a silent cue to wait.
“Aunt Catherine, all I’m saying is that she could be of good use to the Raptors,” Lauren was saying. My blood ran cold. It had been a while since I’d heard Lauren use the commanding voice that she reserved for Raptor business, her cold, clean diction cutting through the chilly air of the church’s basement like a sharp knife. Despite having been discovered, she still played the role of the ultimate double agent. Even now, I questioned her loyalty to us before reminding myself that Lauren too had suffered at the hands of the Raptors.
“My dear, I truly do not understand why you continue to question my leadership,” came Flynn’s response. As usual, Flynn remained stoically impassive, as though they were discussing re-scheduling a fundraising event rather than murder. “I gain nothing from this woman’s presence, but she has been a thorn in my side since I was twenty-one years old. This woman is the reason I lost everything, Lauren, including the only man—”
The Professor Page 38