3. Raven

3

RAVEN

I t’s Hawk—not my father—who picks me up at my house.

“Ray?” His voice echoes through to my room.

“In the bedroom.”

I’m still clutching my knees.

He peeks inside and widens his eyes when he sees me. “You okay?”

I close my eyes. “How’d you get in?”

“The system wasn’t armed.” He crosses the room and sits on the edge of my bed.

I slap my palm to my forehead. “How could I be so dumb?”

After everything I’ve been through, I forgot to turn on my security system. Vinnie wouldn’t have been able to leave in the middle of the night if I had. What was I thinking? What was he thinking?

I suppose we both had a lot on our minds. Not that I’m going to clue my younger brother in to that facet of my personal life.

But one thing is for sure. I’m having this place checked out right away.

Hawk leans down and brushes my upper arm. “It’s all going to be okay, Ray.”

Okay. This is the exact opposite of okay . And I don’t see any way of making what happened to Brick in my bed—the bed I slept in through the bulk of my childhood—okay.

I burst into tears, throwing my arms around Hawk’s broad shoulders. “Oh, Hawk, I don’t know what to do!”

“Easy.” He rubs my back. “Everything’s going to be okay, Ray.”

“How can you say that?” I wipe my eyes. “Mom says Brick Latham is dead. In my bed!”

“I know.” He squeezes my shoulders. “But you’re here . You weren’t there. You had nothing to do with it.”

I pull back. “Of course I had nothing to do with it. You didn’t think?—”

He shakes his head quickly. “Of course not. No one does.”

“Mom and Dad…”

“They’re okay. They got home last night and didn’t even notice until this morning.”

I grab a tissue from my nightstand and blow my nose. “We should have a dog.”

“What?”

“A dog. Sam was a great guard dog. When I got sick and Mom and Dad had to take care of him during my hospital stays?—”

“Raven, please. Be glad they don’t have a dog right now. Whoever did this would have just killed it.”

“Oh, God.” I fall back into Hawk’s arms. Then I pull back again. “Do you think this has anything to do with Diego?—”

He holds his fingers to my lips. “Shh.” He looks around my bedroom. “I don’t know, Ray. I just don’t know. Come on. Let’s go.”

* * *

I arrive to the police at our home, my own bedroom full of people.

And on the bed?

A zipped-up black vinyl body bag.

I gulp.

At least I don’t have to look at the body of Brick Latham—that nice man who was helping me with my nonprofit foundation. Who only wanted to take me on a date last night.

Why would anyone harm Brick?

My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach like a heavy stone dropping into the icy depths of an unending ocean. I stumble, nearly falling as the officers turn to look at me. My mother is there, her face bleached to a sickly white and her eyes rimmed with red.

“Mom?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s out back talking to our attorneys on the phone.” She points a shaky finger out the door. “Hawk went out there.”

“Is Dad talking to one of the attorneys from Brick’s—Mr. Latham’s—firm?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know, Raven. I just don’t know.”

I need to call Vinnie.

He’ll know what to do.

Won’t he?

He didn’t answer when I tried before. Maybe he was in a meeting or something, and I didn’t leave a voicemail. I didn’t—couldn’t—say any of this out loud.

I fumble for my phone, my hands shaking. I press Vinnie’s name and hold the phone up to my ear, my heartbeat thumping a wild manic beat. The ring echoes in my head.

I look around at the police officers whispering among themselves and at my mother who is now huddled in a corner talking in hushed tones with a tall man in an expensive-looking suit. The body bag on the bed seems out of place in my room. My favorite band posters still hang on the wall and a few books are scattered about. There are stuffed animals on a shelf next to my bed, and boxes full of DVDs of old comfort-food movies that I used to escape my illness.

The body bag has poisoned everything in my room.

I can never sleep here again.

I walk into the hallway, keeping the phone pressed to my ear.

But Vinnie still doesn’t answer.

Again, I hear his away message. And again, I can’t bring myself to leave a voicemail.

The man talking to my mother walks toward me. “Raven Bellamy?”

“Yes?”

“This is your bedroom?”

“Yeah.” I swallow. “I’m staying here. Sort of. I was at my own place last night. But I’m recovering from leukemia, and I…” The words just stop, caught in my throat.

“Yes, your mother told us.” He pulls out a pad of paper. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

I simply nod.

“In the living room, maybe?” the man says.

“Sure.” I swallow.

“I’m Detective Harris,” he says. “Jeremy Harris.”

“Raven Bellamy.” But he already knows that. What’s wrong with me?

What’s not wrong with me would be a better question.

We head into the living room. He gestures me to have a seat. Mom sits next to me.

I sit on the edge of the couch, gripping the cushion beneath me as if it could anchor me to some semblance of reality. The room feels too bright, the morning sun streaming through the windows stark and unforgiving. Detective Harris stands in front of me, his notepad open. Another officer, Joel Martinez, stands by the door.

“Ms. Bellamy, can you walk me through your evening?” Detective Harris asks, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of suspicion.

I swallow hard, trying to steady my racing thoughts. “I was at my house last night,” I begin, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s on the ranch property, about ten miles from here.”

“Were you alone?”

My lips tremble. Do I tell them I was with Vinnie? That we saw a drone flying above us in my backyard? Is it all related somehow?

I suppose it’s best to tell the truth.

Vinnie would tell me to tell the truth.

Wouldn’t he?

“I spent the evening with a friend.”

“And this friend can verify you were with her?”

I blink. “Him. I was with him. And yes, he can.”

“His name, please?”

“Vincent Gallo, Jr.”

Mom goes rigid next to me. I’m not sure how much they know about Vinnie’s family. Do they even know Falcon was beaten within an inch of his life and almost killed by Miles McAllister? Has Hawk told them? Falcon and Savannah aren’t here. Do they even know what’s going on yet?

Harris takes notes. “Okay. I’ll need his contact information.”

I grab my phone because I haven’t memorized his number. I rattle it off. “He left in the middle of the night, though, and I haven’t been able to get hold of him since then.”

Harris lifts an eyebrow but continues taking notes. “All right. Do you know what time he left?”

“Honestly, no. I wasn’t looking at the time. I mean, I was asleep at that point. We…”

How much detail does he want? What happened between Vinnie and me was personal, and I don’t want to talk about it to strangers. And certainly not with my mother sitting right here.

“Take us to this morning, then.”

I nod. “I received a call from my mom this morning, around seven. I had just woken up—that’s when I realized Vinnie had left—and I was making coffee when my phone rang. Mom said she found a body in my bed here.” I glance toward the hallway leading to my bedroom, the image of the scene my mom described flashing in my mind. I’m again grateful that I didn’t have to see Brick’s body with his throat slit. Seeing his blood all over my bed was bad enough.

“Did you know the deceased?” Harris asks, his pen poised over the notepad.

I gulp. “Yes, his name is Brick Latham. He’s a lawyer. We had a date last night, but I canceled at the last minute. Maybe he didn’t get my text in time.” I hold up my phone. “You can see the text here. Anyway, he was helping me with some legal paperwork for a charitable foundation I want to create.”

Harris narrows his eyes. “Did you invite him here last night?”

“Yes.” I frown. “Except no. I broke the date. But even if he didn’t get my message in time, he wouldn’t have been able to get in the house. My mom and dad were out.” I turn to Mom. “Where was?—”

“I already told the detective that all the staff had last night off,” Mom finishes for me. “They usually get Friday nights off anyway, and we didn’t think it necessary for them to stay if we were going to be out late.”

“Can anyone confirm that you were at your house all night?” Harris presses, his tone making it clear he’s not convinced.

I begin to feel defensive, but I hold myself in check. This isn’t the time.

“Vinnie can, at least until he left. I was at my house the entire night. I didn’t come back here until my mom called me this morning.”

Detective Harris nods, jotting down notes. “When was the last time you saw Brick Latham?”

“A few days ago, here at my parents’ house. We met to discuss the charity paperwork. That was the last time.”

“Did he mention anything unusual? Was he acting strange or did he seem worried about anything?”

I close my eyes, trying to recall our conversation. “No, he seemed fine. We talked about the charity, his work, just normal things. He didn’t mention anything that seemed out of the ordinary.”

“Did you notice anyone watching you or following you recently?” Harris asks, his gaze unwavering.

Do I dare mention the Uber experience?

On a whim, I shake my head. “No, not that I can remember.”

Harris exchanges a glance with Officer Martinez before turning back to me. “Ms. Bellamy, do you have any idea who might want to harm Mr. Latham?”

The question sends a chill down my spine. I think of Vinnie, of the dangerous world he’s part of and the threats that seem to shadow us. But I can’t bring that into this. It has nothing to do with Brick, anyway.

“No,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I don’t know who would want to do this. I don’t know why anyone would do such a terrible thing.”

“All right.” Harris says, closing his notepad. “We may need to take your statement formally down at the station. For now, if you remember anything, no matter how small it might seem, please let us know.”

I nod, feeling numb. “I will.”

Detective Harris turns to my mother and then to my father, who’s now standing in the entry to the living room. His lips are pursed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy, can you explain again where you were last night?” Harris asks, his tone measured but firm.

Dad clears his throat, glancing at my mom before speaking. “We were out for dinner and a movie. We got home late, probably around midnight. We didn’t check Raven’s room because we assumed she was already in bed.”

“And you didn’t notice anything unusual when you got home?”

“No,” Mom says, her voice shaky. “We went straight to bed. This morning, I went to check on Ray, and that’s when I…” She chokes back a sob.

“Why didn’t you hear anything during the night?” Martinez asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Our bedroom is on the other side of the house,” Dad explains. “We didn’t hear anything unusual.”

Harris and Martinez exchange a glance, and then Harris turns back to me. “Ms. Bellamy, we’ll be in touch. And remember, if you think of anything else, please contact us immediately.”

“Jeremy,” Dad says, “your father and I have known each other for years. Talk to him. He’ll tell you we had nothing to do with any of this.”

“I’m well aware of your standing in this community, Mr. Bellamy,” Harris says. “I’m just doing my job.”

As they leave, a hand touches my shoulder. I turn to see my mom, her face etched with worry and fear.

“We’ll get through this,” she says softly. “We’ll find out who did this.”

I lean into her, drawing strength from her presence. “I hope so, Mom. I really hope so.”

Because frankly? I’m scared out of my wits. I still don’t know where Vinnie is or why he left. And I’m not even sure I’m safe in my own home.

My father no doubt knows experts in the security field. I could probably get someone out to look at it today. But no way am I going to ask my father. Not after what he and Mom have been through. I’ll call Falcon. His friend Leif Ramsey knows security better than anyone.

“I talked to Steve Palmer,” Dad says. “He says to cooperate with the investigation. He didn’t seem too worried.”

Mom rises. “I think we could all use some coffee. And breakfast.”

God. The thought of food… But Mom is right. I have to force something down. I didn’t even look in my kitchen when I left this morning. The spaghetti marinara I made for Vinnie last night is probably congealed and disgusting by now. We didn’t eat it. We went straight to bed after the drone incident.

My God, what is happening in my life?

I haven’t eaten since the sandwich I had at noon yesterday at my house.

I stand. “Sure, that would be great. Two scrambled eggs and?—”

“Toast,” she says. “You’ve got it, Raven. And I want you to drink a big glass of orange juice for me, okay? You need your vitamins.”

I nod, even though I hate the stuff. “Of course, Mom.” I follow her into the kitchen.

I get what she’s doing. She’s committing to her routine. Trying to stay with familiar things to get her mind off the horror. Who can blame her?

She pulls a pitcher of OJ out of the refrigerator, pours a large glass, and sets it on the table. “Sit,” she says.

I obey her, but my body does not want to sit. My nerves are having a field day under my skin. I feel like I need to keep moving. Except that I don’t want to keep moving. I want to crawl up on my bed inside a blanket and forget everything.

But I won’t succumb to that.

I spent enough time curled up on my bed worrying about my life ending while I was sick.

I need to embrace my life. And that means embracing these fears. Getting through them. As soon as I’m done with breakfast, I’ll call Falcon. I’ll have him and his friend Leif meet me at my house. They’ll make sure my place is safe. And I’ll have them make sure this place—my parents’ house—is also safe.

I down the orange juice, knowing I will be in heartburn city in a moment. But it makes my mother happy.

What I really want is a can of Orange Crush. I’m an adult. I should be able to have what I want. But right now I don’t want my mother to be more upset than she already is. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It was always my intention to come home. And if I had, I’d have found…

God…

But at least that would have been better. We’d all have alibis.

If only Vinnie hadn’t left in the middle of the night. Then I’d have an ironclad alibi as well.

I scroll absently through my phone, looking for some message from him. No texts, no missed calls. He’s not on social media.

I have no idea whether he’s dead or alive. And with Brick dead? Anything could have happened to Vinnie.

Your move, Cobra.

What the hell does that even mean?

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but to no avail.

My mother brings my breakfast over to me with a forced smile. “Here you go. Just how you like them.”

I force a smile back at her. “Thanks, Mom.” The eggs are poached instead of scrambled. Poached eggs are gooey, and Mom knows I hate them. She’d never make them for me if she was herself.

I can’t bring myself to draw attention to her mistake. Instead, I push my fork into one of the poached eggs, swirl it into the yolk, and dip a toast point in the yellow liquid. I bring it to my mouth, but the smell…

Normally I love eggs. Especially the fresh eggs we have here on the ranch.

But the smell of it. The taste of it?—

I gulp, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat, and I take a bite, chew, force it down.

The second bite is easier. The third bite is about the same. Mom will worry if I don’t eat, and I do need sustenance to keep my strength and aid in my recovery.

I’m not going to add to the turmoil of this morning.

So I eat all of it. All of the breakfast.

Now what?

Mom is standing over me like a shadow.

“How are things going at your house?” she asks. “Are you getting it livable again?”

Classic Mom again. Trying to ease the tension with conversation. “Yeah. I’ve missed it.”

“I know you have, honey. It won’t be long before you’re back there full-time.”

Right. Not until I have a security system that’s worth a damn. And not until there’s one installed here as well.

I rise. “Thanks for breakfast. I have some work to do. You know, with the foundation I’m putting together and all.”

“Oh, yes. How’s that going?”

Well, I no longer have a lawyer, but…

“So far so good. I don’t have anything to report yet. I need to start working on fundraising.”

She gives me a half-hug around my waist. “You know your father and I will do everything we can to help. Including financially.”

“I know that, but I don’t think you have to. I’m using some of my own money, and Robbie is investing as well.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” She sighs. “I wish we saw more of Robin. For someone who works right here on the ranch tending to our animals, she doesn’t come around a lot.”

“That’s just Robbie,” I say.

And I’m thankful she’s not here for this.

“Yes, she never was the homebody that you are.”

I force another smile and then leave the kitchen.

I can’t go to my bedroom. It’s a fucking crime scene.

So I go outside on the deck and call my brother.

“Raven?” he says into the phone.

“Hey, Fal.”

“Oh my God, what’s the matter? You don’t sound good.”

“A little freaked out, to be honest.”

“Why?”

My heart skips a beat. “No one told you what happened?”

A pause. “Ray, what’s going on?”

I take a deep breath in. I haven’t actually verbalized what happened to Brick to anyone. I tried to leave a voicemail for Vinnie twice, but I couldn’t get the words out. And I spoke as little as I could when the detective was interviewing me.

“You know that lawyer I told you about? The one who’s helping me with the nonprofit?”

“The one you had a date with?” His voice suddenly adopts an edge. “Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that. I actually canceled the date. I…wasn’t feeling well.”

“What happened, Ray?”

“He…” I choke on the words. I swallow and force them out. “He’s dead, Fal. Someone killed him. And they left the body in my bed.”

No response.

“Fal? You there?”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“I swear it isn’t. On Mom and Dad’s life. It’s awful. They have no idea what happened.” The emotions spring back out of my throat, and tears start falling down my cheeks again.

“Hey, hey.” His voice evens out. “What matters is that you’re okay, Ray. Mom and Dad are okay.”

I wipe my eyes. “I suppose.”

“I can’t believe something like this would happen at their house, though. Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“Mom and Dad called Hawk to pick me up at my place this morning. I guess they didn’t want to bother you. I mean, you’ve been through so much and all.”

“Fuck…”

“But you’re right. I’m okay. Mom and Dad are okay.” My stomach twists into a sailor’s knot. “I can’t say the same for Brick Latham.”

“I’m on my way.”

“No,” I say. “Please. You and Savannah need to?—”

“Damn it, Ray, I’m still a member of this family. I’m coming over.”

“Fine. Come over. In fact, call Leif. I need a favor.”

“What for?”

“I’ve been back at my house the last couple of days. Trying to get ready to move back in.”

“Already?”

“Yeah. I need to get back on my feet. But the issue is…”

God, how do I even say this?

“Yeah?”

“I need Leif to come take a look. Do a sweep. Make sure no one has been… I don’t know…”

“Raven, do you think someone’s watching you?”

“Maybe. Someone killed Brick, and Brick was coming to see me. And last night I had a feeling… You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re not alone?”

“Yeah, I know it all too well. You learn how to be hyperaware when you’re in the slammer. Believe me.”

“God, Falcon… This is why no one wanted to call you. You’ve been through enough.”

“Hey, it’s over. And thanks to Vinnie, we have time to deal with everything else so that I don’t go back.”

Goosebumps erupt on my body. “Should we even be talking like this? On this line?”

“Probably not. Tell you what. I’ll get Leif, and we’ll meet you at your place. About an hour. Will that work?”

My mother will no doubt question me about where I’m going, but I want this done as soon as possible. “Yeah, that will work fine. See you then.”