Lars whipped around toward the door, alarmed that he’d been so engrossed in her that he hadn’t realized someone had walked in. Then it registered that the guy had called her by name. How the hell did he know her name?
Lars didn’t take his eyes off him, and quickly positioned himself in front of Faith.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, realizing the kid wasn’t much past twenty and scrawny to boot. The stench of an unkempt human clung to him.
The kid threw his hands up, palms outward, and was trembling slightly, which revealed forearms with track marks. “Hey, man, I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Who sent you here?” Lars asked.
“Some guy a few blocks away from here threw me a hundred bucks to deliver her something.”
“What was his name? What did he look like?” His gut twisted, already knowing the answer.
“I don’t know, ‘bout forty and rich looking? I didn’t much care,” he said, his hand going to scratch his arm as if bugs were crawling on him.
“What is it?”
“I have a package for her.” The kid moved his hand toward his back pocket slowly, waiting until Lars nodded to proceed before he pulled out a small box.
Lars reached forward and snatched the small box from his fingers.
“Give it to me.” Faith had come around to his side and pulled the package from his fingers before he realized what she’d intended.
The kid took off running the minute Lars turned toward Faith. He watched as she shot into his office, as he was torn between who to follow. He already knew who had sent the delivery and he was sure the kid wasn’t involved. First off, the kid was human. And secondly, he was way too rattled. This wasn’t a normal gig for him. He was just a junky looking for a quick buck. Even if he hadn’t seen the evidence, he would’ve known from the sickly smell of him.
Lars dug out his phone as he stepped outside the shop and tried to get an idea on where the kid had taken off to. He dialed Bic, who he knew was in the area this afternoon, and relayed the information. Then hurried back in to find Faith.
Chapter 19
He found her sitting at his desk and trying to cut open the taped seams of the package but the scissors kept slipping. It had probably been what had bought him some time.
“Let me,” Lars said but she wrenched the package back toward her.
“No.” Her gaze shot to him. “You guys tell me where to sleep, eat and work. It’s enough. This was delivered for me and I’m going to be the one to open it.” She stared at him, making it clear she was going to stand her ground on this.
He was at a loss. He knew that he and his guys were, in essence, micromanaging her life but she hadn’t complained once. And he didn’t think this was so much about opening a package that was surely going to carry a bad message as her needing to gain some tiny bit of control back. He didn’t like it but she was right. If he respected her then he had to let her do it.
But he couldn’t quiet down this pesky urge he had to protect her. He walked around the desk and hovered over her but he didn’t make another move to take the box.
She didn’t seem to notice or care where he was; as all of her attention focused on the package. Scissors in hand, she cut the rest of the taped seams and the top of the cardboard box flapped open. A folded note, which she withdrew, lay on top.
I really wish you’d reconsider.
Keith
A ring box lay below. Keith had sent her jewelry? She lifted the box out of the tissue paper padding and flipped open the top. Lars barely got a glance at the ring inside before it fell from her hands with a gasp.
He knew it was a man’s. He smelled the dried blood it was coated in. It had belonged to a healthy male in his twenties, suspiciously like the blood on Cutty’s guest room ceiling.
He quickly grabbed a pen from his desk and used it to pick up the fallen ring, having no desire to touch it. It was a college class ring. He slid it into the box that had also dropped to the ground and closed the lid.
“Faith?” After the initial gasp, she’d fallen silent and completely still. He lowered himself until he was sitting back on his heels and could get a better look at her face. All the color had drained from her cheeks, and her eyes didn’t look right, as if they weren’t focused and she were somewhere else right now.
“Faith?” he repeated, softer this time.
Her eyes, shifted to his with a crazed look. “I need my phone.”
“Whose ring was that?” he asked.
“I need my phone,” she repeated, as if she hadn’t heard his question. Her voice had a strained quality.
“Stay here. I’ll get it.” He went into the other room and dug the phone the guys had gotten her out of her purse and brought it back.
He thought she was going to try and call someone but instead she was trying to search the Internet on it. He had a computer in the office but it was stored in the cabinet, gathering dust, and she probably didn’t realize it was there.
He watched as she tried to type. Her fingers would hit a few letters that didn’t form anything coherent before erasing them. She did this repeatedly before he decided he had to step in.
“Let me,” Lars said, slowly easing the phone from her hands. “What are you trying to type?”
“Arthur Dover.”
Same last name but, according to her, she’d never been married. He walked a few feet away from where she was sitting, thinking it was best if he could try and skim whatever information he found first. He didn’t need to be a genius to put the ring to the name and know that if something came up, it was going to be bad.
He didn’t get far. She stood and followed him across the small expanse of the room, grabbing his wrist to keep the phone where she could see. Her hand, ice cold and shaking as it was, locked down on him like an iron vise.
He typed the name in as she stood, looking over his arm. News articles about a man mutilated and killed flashed across the small screen, complete with images.
His thumb went to close it but stopped when she barked out the word, “No.”
He angled it toward her. Whatever had happened, she had a right to know.
Her eyes scanned the screen but she didn’t make any attempt to take it from him. She just read it, her grip on his arm getting weaker until her hand finally dropped to her side. She took a step backward and she collided with the wall, and then slid down it. She ended up sitting on the ground, the sheetrock being the only thing keeping her upright. But her face looked like she’d slid all the way to the depths of Hell.
He quickly scanned the phone for more information. The police had no suspects and there had been no known enemies. They’d determined he’d been kidnapped by one of the gangs that had popped up everywhere.
“Who was this to you?” he asked her.
“My brother.” She reached out a hand for the phone. He shut down the screen and then gave it to her. She didn’t look at it but grasped it in a firm grip as she held it to her chest. A few tears escaped her watery eyes to trail down her cheeks.
When he’d met her, she’d looked like she’d been through hell. He’d scared the crap out of her that first afternoon she’d shown up here. Then the guys had come and piled on as well. Couple nights later, she’d woken to blood dripping on her from above. But she hadn’t looked broken until now.
He’d never consoled a crying woman before, not in all his years, and it wasn’t from lack of opportunity. When they fell apart at the seams, he walked away and sent one of the other guys to deal with them. Or he just walked away and left them alone. But he always walked.
And now, after too many years to count, he wasn’t heading toward the door ready to jump ship. It wasn’t that the instinct had disappeared or that the response to a situation like this, engrained in him after so long, didn’t swell up. He looked at the door but his stupid feet wouldn’t move.
He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and scrolled down to Cutty’s number. He hit dial but, for no reason he understood, hung up after the first ring.