Vacant Voices (Blind Barriers Trilogy Book 3)

by Sophie Davis

  “Who are you?” Navid demanded.

  “Navid…,” I began, but then panicked and hung up on the jeweler.

  My hands shook as I stared down at the phone. Not even thirty seconds after I’d disconnected, Navid called back. I didn’t hesitate before denying the call.

  “We’re here, miss,” Steven said.

  Still staring at the phone and wondering if I’d just made a colossal error, the driver’s voice startled me and I dropped my cell. “Sorry. Sorry,” I said hurriedly, retrieving the phone from the floorboard. With a forced smile, I collected my belongings and reached for the door handle. “Thanks, have a good day,” I called as I rushed from the car toward the entrance to The Pines.

  Darrell was on duty, and I offered him a quick wave as I passed the front desk. Navid called two more times before I reached my apartment, and both times I let it go to voicemail. My cell rang a third time just as I entered the apartment. But this time, when I looked at the display, I saw Asher’s name flash across the screen.

  “Never thought I’d be so glad to hear from you,” I muttered as I accepted the call.

  “Raven? Is everything okay?” Asher asked, sounding much more worried than the situation warranted.

  Do I sound that stressed? I wondered.

  “Yeah, I mean…no. I don’t really know. I think I might have just screwed up.”

  “Screwed up how?” Asher asked.

  I blew out a breath and collapsed onto the living room sofa. “I called the jeweler who supposedly made the replica of Mrs. Kingsley’s necklace for Lark….”

  Asher listened patiently as I recounted my brief exchange with Navid. When I was finished, Asher didn’t say anything, but I could still hear him breathing on the other end.

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. I just…I don’t. I guess I wanted to know whether Lark ever picked up the forgery. You know, because of the riddle.” My excuses sounded lame when I said them aloud. It was obvious she had switched the necklaces at some point, otherwise she wouldn’t have left the note in the first place.

  Why couldn’t you have worked through all of this before calling Navid? I thought.

  “It’s okay, Raven,” Asher said finally. “He can’t trace your phone back to you. Your cell is registered to a company that David owns.”

  “What if he tells the Kingsleys, though? What if says that some girl called pretending to be their missing daughter?” I asked, a note of hysteria in my voice.

  “Then the Kingsleys will call David and he will assure them that you are safe and sound in your room at Montauk. They will think the caller was an imposter, or maybe a journalist digging into Lark’s disappearance. Don’t stress over it. I’ll warn David so he’s ready if the Kingsleys do contact him.”

  I leaned back against the cushions. “Thank you. Thank you. I am sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. Just, please, promise me you won’t do anything like this again without consulting me first. And before you say it, it’s not because I don’t trust you to make your own decisions. It’s just that sometimes it helps to talk through things with another person before taking action.”

  “Yeah, okay. I promise,” I replied, appropriately chastised for my faux pas. I shook my head to clear the unpleasant thoughts and asked, “So, why did you call? Everything cool?”

  “Everything is good. I just wanted to touch base with you.” Asher hesitated, seeming to consider whether he wanted to say what was on his mind. Finally, he asked, “Have you worked out the second riddle yet?”

  I closed my eyes and felt heat creep up my neck and into my cheeks. Earlier that day, he’d explained that my time in D.C. was running out. And though he hadn’t explicitly said so, it seemed my life—that Raven Ferragamo—wasn’t long for this world. Once David ordered me back to Montauk, it was likely he would erase all things Raven from Lark’s head, an act the Kingsleys would pay handsomely for. I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t ready to die.

  The longer it takes you to solve the riddle, the longer you get to live.

  Was that true? David had more than enough information to blackmail the Kingsleys, to extort millions from them. Did the final piece, or pieces, of the puzzle matter? How could I buy more time?

  “Raven?” Asher asked tentatively.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. I mean no. I haven’t figured it out yet,” I told him.

  “I’m on my way over. We can work on it together. Have you talked to Blake today?”

  Blake had texted me a few times while I was at the museum with Adam, asking how I was and saying he’d be around later if I wanted company.

  “Only via text. I think he might come over for dinner after his soccer practice,” I answered Asher.

  “Okay, cool. I should be there in about twenty minutes. Want me to pick up lunch?”

  “Sure. Whatever you can find on the way is good. See you soon.”

  With a quick goodbye, Asher hung up. I should have started working on the clue right then, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted as much time, even if it was only a few extra minutes, as me as possible. But I also didn’t want to sit alone in my living with nothing to distract me from the ticking clock inside my head counting down the hours left until my existence was no more.

  I remembered Asher mentioning the other letter that morning, the one I’d forgotten until his reminder. It was still in my messenger bag. When I’d seen my name and Lark’s signature, I’d been too scared to read it, but now I wondered if maybe there would be yet another clue inside the note. Yet another way to extend my life just a little while longer. I retrieved the envelope containing the letter and several other pages I hadn’t read either.

  Raven,

  You are so close to learning the truth. It is within your grasp. Once you know, you will understand why I chose you, an ordinary girl with an ordinary life and parents who don’t expect you to be the perfect socialite or the heir to a throne of lies. You are everything I want to be: strong, confident, and untarnished. I know you, unlike me, can handle the harsh realities of my life and my world. If you chose to turn your back on me and my problems, I will understand. What I’m asking of you is not fair. But hopefully you will still want to help once you understand the stakes. The truth is bigger than either of us, than both of us. Please try to remember that.

  If you haven’t watched the videos yet, then you should before you read the rest of the documents in this envelope. One is a copy of the letter I gave my father. It was this letter that prompted my disappearance. I underestimated my parents in some ways and overestimated them in others. I believed my father’s love for me would triumphant. I believed his conscience would get the better of him, lead him down the right path. I was wrong. So, please, be careful. Misplaced trust was my downfall, and I don’t want it to be yours.

  Lark Kinsley.

  Had I read the letter when I found it, Lark’s words would have seemed as vague and obscure as many of her clues. But knowing who I was, and how she and I were connected, I saw the letter in an entirely different light. I understood exactly what Lark was trying to tell me. Between Adam and Lark’s own journal, I was able to learn the circumstances of my creation, and until I’d read the letter, I thought I understood why I was conceived. I’d thought she simply needed someone to help her deal with the events in Kingstown, with Jonas’ death, someone besides Lila. But it was more than that. Lark craved normalcy. She wanted to be a normal teenager with normal teenage problems. She didn’t want to be the daughter of Eleanor and Phillip Kingsley, the heir to a billion-dollar company and all that entailed, both the good and the bad. So I was born, a small town girl with a mother who baked pies and father who only wanted me to be happy. My parents placed expectations upon me, but their hopes and dreams for me were nothing like the Kingsleys for Lark. I was everything she wasn’t. Everything she wished she could be.

  I sat on the couch, staring off into space, for a long time. The voices in my head were silent, no inner monologue of churning thoughts, and I felt m
ore at peace than I could ever remember being. The rest of the envelope’s contents was in my lap, but I didn’t look at them. I would. Later. Right then, I just wanted to sit.

  My time as Raven was coming to an end. Any and all reservations I had about that were quickly fleeing. This life, my life, my existence weren’t really mine. I was Lark. I was the daughter of Eleanor and Phillip Kingsley. I was sole heir to Kingsley Diamonds and the Kinsley fortune. And I was eighteen—no, nineteen—now, which meant it was my responsibility to expose my family’s crimes and make amends. Not because Lark had asked me to, not because a stranger needed my help. But because my father, my company, had hurt people, killed people even. There was blood on my father’s hands, blood that would be on my hands if I didn’t act. Lark had risked everything to expose the truth. I couldn’t do any less. I couldn’t bring Jonas back, but I could prevent future deaths. My existence was a small price to pay to make sure that happen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  RAVEN

  “Ham and cheese panini on whole wheat!” Asher called as he entered the apartment.

  I was still sitting on the couch, Lark’s letters to both me and her father in my lap. In my hands, I held what might prove to be the final piece of the puzzle—or, at least, penultimate one.

  Asher placed a paper bag with Grocho’s Paninis scrawled across one side on the coffee table, along with a drink carrier holding two sodas. I offered him a distracted smile. “Thanks.”

  “You okay?” He studied my expression as he eased into an armchair. “Whatcha got there? Did you find another clue?”

  Wordlessly, I handed him the two letters. Tentatively, almost as though he wasn’t ready to face another challenge before lunch, Asher accepted the pages. It was another minute before he mustered the strength to read them. I stared at the third piece of paper from the envelope. It was the least telling of the three, and without Lark’s letter to her father to provide context, I wouldn’t have understood its purpose.

  Asher finished reading the letters and placed them on the coffee table with a heavy sigh.

  “You knew about the letter to Mr. Kingsley,” I stated flatly.

  Judging by his expression, or rather the lack thereof, it was obvious that he did. Asher didn’t bother lying, but he seemed to choose his words carefully when he responded. “I knew that Lark had confronted her parents, yes. I was not aware of her ultimatum, however.”

  I nodded slowly. “She thought she had the upper hand. She thought her father would do the right thing,” I said numbly.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Asher lean forward, concern filling his brown eyes.

  “But he didn’t,” I continued numbly. “Lark gave him the opportunity to make amends without ruining his reputation.” My laugh was bitter, hollow. “And he had her committed.” I turned and met Asher’s gaze. “What kind of parent does that? All he had to do was sell the necklace. But he didn’t. Phillip Kingsley chose a freaking stone over his only child!”

  I didn’t realize I was yelling until Asher was beside me, his hand rubbing my back as though to calm my emotions. Physically numb, his touch barely registered. When Asher reached for the piece of paper clutched in my hands, I let it slip through my fingers but continued to stare at the spot where it had been as though the words were still there.

  “This is the woman Lark mentioned in the letter?” he asked softly, though it didn’t really sound like a question. “Her contact at the auction house?” he added as though for clarification.

  The question didn’t require an answer, but I nodded anyway.

  “She wants you to sell the necklace, doesn’t she?” Again, he made it sound like a question, but we both knew the answer. We’d both read the letters.

  He’s trying to gauge your headspace, I thought.

  “Yeah, but that’s not all. I think….” I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I think I’m supposed to expose Kingstown, too.” My voice shook a little, though whether from rage or grief, I wasn’t sure. “Lark gave him a shot, a chance to be a better person, with limited consequences to himself. He blew it, Asher.” With each word, my confidence grew, and my voice became steadier. “Now, it’s time to take him down.”

  Asher tensed, but when I met his gaze, my own full of conviction, his expression was neutral. “Are you sure about this, Raven?” he asked.

  “Positive.” I sounded much more certain than I felt. Yes, a part of me—the part that was Raven, the part that was Lila, and a small part of Lark—was certain. But at my core, where Lark’s personality was strongest, the little girl who loved her father unconditionally didn’t want to be the cause of his downfall.

  Asher cocked an eyebrow in question, and I relented. “Okay, no, I have reservations,” I admitted.

  Asher smiled, though the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. “Good. I’d be worried if you didn’t.”

  I heard and processed his words, but continued speaking as though he hadn’t. “Lark loves her father, and she admires him a great deal. I feel that deep in my gut. Phillip Kinsley may not have pulled the trigger himself, but he created Kingstown and fostered an environment that allowed for the death of a child. And afterwards, he did nothing. That is why Lark is willing to destroy her father and his empire—our family empire.”

  “And you?” Asher asked softly. “Why are you, Raven, doing this?”

  I looked him square in the eye, surprised by the question. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” I said carefully.

  “Is that the only reason?”

  His voice lacked inflection, his tone flat as board, and I knew Asher had entered professional mode. In that moment he wasn’t my friend, he was my therapist. Is there a “right” answer? I wondered. If I don’t say the magic words, will he haul me north to Montauk? I didn’t know, and so I told the truth.

  “No. Lark can overlook the horrible things her father—both of her parents, really—have done to her. Honestly, I don’t know whether she truly understands just how badly they’ve hurt her. How badly they’ve screwed her up. But I can’t. What the Kingsleys have done to their own daughter is criminal, and I won’t let them get away with it. They need to pay for Kingstown. But they also need to pay for fucking with Lark’s head.”

  The silence that followed my speech was deafening, and seemed to stretch for eons. Asher stared at me with an unreadable expression, and I stared past him to where Lark’s letter to her father lay on the coffee table. A phone buzzed—Asher’s most likely, since mine was in my pocket—but we both ignored the summons.

  Finally, Asher nodded as though he’d just reached a hard conclusion. “Okay, so how do you want to proceed?”

  Making sure the necklace reached the auction house was the easy part. Lark had provided me with the names of her contact at the auction house, as well as the lawyer who’d drawn up the legal documents for funds once the sale of the Kingsley Diamond was complete. She’d even been so kind as to tell me the location of the real necklace, which was how Asher and I ended up back in her walk-in closet. Kneeling in front of the safe that I hadn’t touched since finding the credit and debit cards and passport in my name, I entered the combination for only the second time.

  “Are you sure about this?” Asher asked as we both stared at the empty safe.

  “I mean, she said it was in here,” I snapped.

  Unlike her riddles and clues, the whereabouts of the diamond were very clear. Lark hadn’t minced words. And yet, the interior of the safe appeared empty.

  “Maybe she never got the chance to hide it?” Asher suggested.

  I leaned forward and ran one hand over the walls of the safe. “If she said it’s—” In the top left corner of the safe, the lining was loose. I tugged on the velveteen material. It peeled away from the back wall of the safe without much resistance. Over my shoulder, I met Asher’s wide gaze.

  “How did you know?” he asked.

  “I didn’t,” I admitted as I yanked the fabric panel the rest of the way off. “But we both know Lar
k—and according to Adam, the rest of the Kingsleys, too—love a good hidden compartment.” But it was never that simple with Lark. Eleanor Kingsley’s necklace wasn’t just sitting behind the back panel. I’d expected as much, so the wall of thirty-six identical squares waiting for me wasn’t as shocking for frustrating as it might have once been. Of course, I had no clue what I was supposed to do now. All I knew for certain was that the Kingsley Diamond, the real one, was hidden behind the squares.

  “Now what?” Asher asked.

  I shook my head. “Not sure.” Not bothering to replace the back panel or close the safe, I stood and faced him. My calm demeanor must have sent up alarm bells, because Asher’s brows drew together as he followed my movements closely. “I’ll figure out how to get into the hidden compartment. I’m not worried about that.”

  “Okay…,” Asher said slowly, drawing out the single word.

  “Right now, we have a lot of work to do and not much time.” I strode purposefully out of the closet, Asher on my heels.

  “Raven? Raven, what are you talking about?” Asher called from behind me.

  I began pacing the bedroom, a plan forming in my mind. Contacting the woman at the auction house was risky. I’d already made one mistake by calling Navid, and didn’t want to make the same one twice. Even the lawyer would likely be weary of a girl who claimed to be Lark Kingsley, when Lark Kingsley was still supposedly missing. I would need to reappear, but David and the folks up at Montauk weren’t going to allow that. Or…maybe not. Phillip Kingsley had refused Lark’s olive branch. He’d never contacted the auction house or released a statement to the press about the sale of the diamond with the proceeds going to charity.

  “Raven?” Asher said my name again, and again, I ignored him.

  Lark wanted to use the money from the auction to help the people of Kingstown and to make reparations to Jonas’ family, as well as any other families who’d been harmed or lost loved ones. I intended to make that dream a reality. But I didn’t need to sneak around. Lark’s father had blown his chance. I could expose him first, and then follow through with Lark’s original plan.