9. Jace Holloway

Chapter 9

Jace Holloway

It was a quiet morning at the cemetery. A subtle mist hung like a cumulation of ghosts gathering in the air. Dew covered the well-maintained grounds, beading on the gray tombstones. I walked up the slight slope and made my way to my father’s grave. The vase for flowers was empty. Mom normally kept it full. Guess she hadn’t been around in a bit. I placed a few roses into the clear container. My dad hated flowers, but it felt like the least I could do to show a little respect.

I didn’t visit his grave often. It brought too many negative emotions clawing back up to the surface for me. A lot of “what-ifs” and “whys” swirled around me like buzzing gnats. No matter how much I tried to swat them away, they’d still make themselves known, trying to worm their way back into my skull.

Being at a graveyard never put me in a good headspace. Aside from reminding me of suffering a huge loss, it also brought me back to the times I’d fantasize about putting myself in a coffin. There was a dark siren call that edged into the corners of my soul whenever I was around a graveyard.

Suicidal ideation was something I had battled for a long time. It was a battle I almost lost. Especially after losing my dad. That’s when the dark curtains began to close in, snuffing out any light, any hope. I’d spend days—weeks—wondering what would be the easiest way out. Gun? Pills? Jumping?

My heart felt heavy as those thoughts came swirling back into focus. I was stronger now; I could resist them. I knew they were all lies. There was never an easy way out. Life simply wasn’t fair, and the sooner I accepted that, the easier it was to play the game.

I dropped my head, closed my eyes. Religion wasn’t a big thing for me, either, but I still found myself saying a short prayer. Just a quick message up to whoever was listening, hoping it could be relayed to my dad.

I’m trying to make you proud. I’m trying to make you happy. I hope you’re at peace.

I woke up that morning with extra anxiety swirling inside me. Last night had been fun—sexting Theo, exchanging vids—but that didn’t stop nightmares from settling in. I tossed and turned all night, waking up multiple times. Many of the nightmares had to do with the case. About whether or not I was in over my head. If the victims would be better served by someone else taking this case. Should I hand it off to someone else at Stonewall? Was I making any obvious mistakes ?

And then the nightmares shifted and turned into vivid recreations of the day my father died. A day that should have been mine to meet the grim reaper. It was a call I should have taken if I hadn’t used a sick day to stay home. A sick day that was really just me dealing with a terrible hangover.

It was a selfish, dickish move. One that cost my father his life.

I’m so sorry.

And here I was, years later, trying to make amends by making a difference and not sure if I was even capable of doing that. I‘d always had issues with my self-confidence. I never felt like I was good enough. Like there was always some milestone or goal that I missed, barely able to reach it no matter how hard I strived.

This case was turning out to be no different. I had a name to hunt down now, but that didn’t mean much. And the killer was still out there, likely planning their next move.

I let out a long sigh. It was as if all the oxygen in my lungs pushed out in a single breath.

It didn’t help that my thoughts were also being clouded by a growing interest in the tattooed and mysterious Theo Glass.

Bumping into him at the coffee shop was a pleasant surprise. It made the thorn he implanted in my side dig even deeper. I could usually shake guys off after being with them a couple of times. I only had one long-term relationship that ended in a brutal heartbreak and a heavy dose of trust issues. He’d abandoned me when I was at my lowest, and it made me feel as though all men were absolute fucking garbage. Me included.

Since then, I’d kept my interactions with men to a strictly “pump and dump” kind of level. And with how low my sex drive had been lately, it wasn’t all that difficult to avoid them. I had a couple I’d chat with regularly, but none that made me want to pursue them romantically.

Not in the way Theo did. I had gotten way too excited when his text landed in my phone last night. And it wasn’t just my cock that reacted. I felt my heart rate pick up. Like I was some high schooler being asked out to prom or something.

How fucking crazy was that?

My thoughts kicked into overdrive. I started to second-guess my responses to him, trying to craft messages that led to making sure he’d respond. Hell, even my dick pics needed a few takes before I got them right. Normally, I didn’t give much of a fuck. But not with Theo. It was different with him.

He was different.

We talked all night. Even after we sent each other videos of us finishing. The texts continued until my eyes got droopy, and I started to type nonsense. By then, I realized it was time to call it, and I told him good night. He said it back.

…It was nice, really fucking nice.

And it was just one more thing to add to my pile of distractions, my mounting column of worries. I already had doubts about being able to handle this case. I couldn’t have doubts about being able to impress a man .

Maybe I had to cut Theo out of the equation. At least until after this job was done. It would be the responsible thing to do. Keep my entire focus on figuring out who Nevermore was. Then, once that monster was unmasked, I could shift back into wooing Theo.

Yeah. That sounded like a solid plan.

I just had to pull it off.

The Stonewall offices were busy today. Two clients sat in the waiting room. I walked past the front desk, giving a friendly wave to Mason Barker. He was the always smiling and slightly quirky receptionist who had convinced Zane to allow his regal Persian cat named Gregory to be an honorary Stonewall employee. Gregory sat on a perch attached to the window behind Mason’s desk, his emerald-green eyes laser focused on a bird that hopped from branch to branch on the tree outside. Mason looked up from his computer and waved back before putting up a finger. “Oh, hold up.”

“Whatcha got for me?” I asked.

“Alejandro was organizing an office lotto run. Apparently, the prize pot is something like a hundred million. Want to jump in?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Awesome, ten bucks. Might be the best investment you’ve ever made.”

“Better at least than the five hundred I wasted when my cousin tried to get me into crypto.”

Mason’s eyebrows shot up toward his curly hair. “Five hundred? Dude, you could have given that to me. It would have been a waste, too, but at least I could have replaced my couch. Gregory has decided it’s the perfect scratching post.” Mason shot a sidelong glance over his shoulder at an unbothered Gregory.

“I would have if I knew. Sorry, Mace.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ve been saving up. Should be able to get a new one next month.”

“How much do you need?”

“I’m a hundred and fifty away.”

Without a second’s hesitation, I took out my wallet. I took out a ten and then pulled out the only thing left in my wallet: a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Here, put the ten in the pot for the lotto, and use this to get yourself a new couch.”

Mason’s jaw dropped. He shook his hands in the air. “No, uh-uh. Absolutely not. You’re crazy. Did you breathe in any fumes on your way to work today? Was there a gas leak in the subway?”

I chuckled at him and pushed the hundred toward him. Yes, I had my own financial shit to worry about, but I was feeling extra generous today. And my job here at Stonewall was giving me a comforting financial cushion. There was still plenty of debt I had to climb out of, but giving Mason a hundred bucks to get a new couch wasn’t going to break my bank. It would have a year or two ago, but times were (thankfully) different now.

I’d been scared about my financial insecurity, that was for sure, and I felt some of those ripple effects in my daily life. I didn’t splurge anymore, I stayed off Amazon, and I didn’t go out to eat nearly as often as I used to. I understood the profound fear and the unnecessary shame that came with having your bank account sit in the red. It was all just 1s and 0s in a computer, and yet somehow, it amounted to the value of my entire being.

That shit was fucked-up. Money had too much power over us.

Now that I was a little more stable, I could at least help ease some of that stress away from Mace.

“Take it. Trust me.”

“I literally can’t, Jace. That’s way too generous.”

“Consider it an early Christmas gift. Just make sure you get a tough fabric. Or cover it in plastic.”

Mason blinked a couple of times, and I realized it was because he was getting teary-eyed. He wiped away at his cheek and took the money. “Thank you. Seriously. Wow. And hell no, I’m not covering it in plastic. I’m not a serial killer or a grandmother.”

I shrugged and laughed. “You never know these days.”

Mason cocked his head, shook it. He looked down at the money in his hands, then back at me. “You’re the best. I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“No need. I’m much happier giving you this than I was throwing money away with my cousin on his Lizard Coin or whatever the fuck he was trying to sell me.”

“Lizard Coin? Damn, people are wild.”

“They are.” I gave a friendly knock on his desk. “Alright, let me get to my office. I’ve got a call to make about this Nevermore case. Send me a picture of whatever couch you get. Now I’m invested. ”

“I will, I will,” Mason said. Gregory also appeared to take notice. He stood on his perch and stretched, his green eyes turning toward the money.

I left before Mason and Gregory got into a tussle over who got to spend the hundred. Back inside my office, I sat at my desk and got comfortable, moving aside some papers and setting down my water bottle. There was a tiny ceramic pot with a succulent I had been given by Zane as a welcome gift, so I sprinkled a little water into the pot and moved it closer to the sun that streamed in from the window.

With that done, I pulled out my phone and opened a notebook. I went to the number that the photographer had given me and dialed. There was silence on the other line. I was nervous the line was disconnected, but after a couple more seconds, it started to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

Finally, someone picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Allecia? This is Jace Holloway with Stonewall Investigations. How are you?”

A brief pause before she answered. “Fine.” Short and brief. A baby cried in the background. I could already tell there wasn’t much time to dig on the call. As if she read my mind and wanted to reinforce that thought, she added, “I’ve got five minutes. What do you need?”

“I won’t take up your time. I’m just looking into the death of someone who may be associated with one of your exes. Does the name Gio ring any bells?”

“Yes. And I’m not going to talk about him. So whatever you want, I’m sorry, but I can’t give it to you.”

Alright, at least I knew I was getting somewhere. Just had to get Allecia to talk now, and I had five minutes to do it.

Great.

“He seems to have been the boyfriend of the person who was found murdered. And they appeared to be involved in something together. I’m trying to connect the dots here. Your name won’t be implicated in anything. I just need you to tell me what you know about Gio. Even a last name would help.”

The baby wailed louder. Allecia gave a few motherly coos to try and calm it down. “I really don’t want to get dragged into whatever he’s doing. That man is terrible, and so is everyone he surrounds himself with.”

“Which is why if he’s involved in this, I want to make sure he’s held accountable.”

“His last name is Lamott. He changes his number every other week, so I don’t have a way for you to contact him.”

“When you say you don’t want to be dragged into what he’s doing, do you know what that is?”

Another pause. I could sense her weighing out her options. My leg bounced nervously under the table. “Blackmail,” she said. “He’s involved in some kind of extortion, blackmail ring. I don’t know any details, and I only know that because he let it slip one day. He almost killed me when he realized I heard him. I ran. I didn’t look back. I don’t ever want to look back. ”

Blackmail? Extortion? That was something new. I jotted it down.

“Does the name Ricky Walters ring a bell?” I asked. Maybe Allecia had a connection to the victim. Could Gio be the one behind the killings? But if he was, then why go after his own boyfriend?

“No, nothing.”

“What about someone named Valdoni?”

That got a strangled sound from Allecia. Something mixed with surprise and shock. “I’m not—that’s it. I’m done. I’m not getting involved in this. I’ve already said too much.”

I could tell she was close to hanging up. Shit. “Allecia, hold on, this is some?—”

“Goodbye.”

The call dropped. I was left holding the phone with no one on the other line. I leaned back in my chair and looked out the window. It felt like I was moving closer to an answer and yet somehow being pushed further away. What did a blackmail ring have to do with the Nevermore killer? And why did the name Valdoni strike such an intense amount of fear?

Why, why, why?

Question after question after question.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. My phone vibrated. I thought it was Allecia calling me back.

It wasn’t. It was a message from Theo. A simple “hey, what’s up?”