He would never kill my parents. His hard limit is ordering his best friends to rape me.
Somehow, Josh has the wherewithal tonotjot down, “Best friends of Quill raped murdered parents’ daughter.” He swallows nervously and murmurs, “Even though they did… what they did… if they were Quill’s friends, maybe there was some loyalty there. Just enough to not kill you.”
Crushing down the rising tide of panicked emotion that always threatens me when I so much as hear Liam and Dane’s names, I face Josh with a neutral expression. “Or they’re Devil soldiers, and I wasn’t in the contract,” I remind him.
“Right.” Josh is back to frowning in thought. “I feel like we haven’t been asking ourselves the most obvious question of all.”
“What?”
“Why the hell were your parents in a Devil contract to begin with?”
27
Piper
Present Day
I’m staring at Josh like he just told him he’s secretly moonlighting as an astronaut and has walked on the moon.
How the hell did I manage not to ask myself the most glaringly obvious question of all?
Hercule Poirot wouldneverbe so stupid.
Not even Blue would have overlooked that.
Even the freaking preschool kids who watch that show would have thought to ask that question.
And me, Piper Day, who has absorbed mystery novels all her life, did not even think to ask the most obvious question of all.
I’m feeling like the most stupid person on Earth right now.
Josh pats my shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sure you’ve been in shock ever since your parents died, and you haven’t been thinking clearly. Anyway, I never thought about it till now either. I guess that’s why detectives don’t usually take on cases so close to them. You’re my best friend, and I haven’t been thinking straight either.”
I look up at him quickly, surprised to hear I’m anyone’s best friend. Even in my state of shock, that means a lot to me.
Josh misreads my reaction, though. He coughs uncomfortably. “I mean, I know we just met. But, well… I guess now that it’s out, there’s no taking it back. Oops.”
“You’re my best friend too,” I say, trying to hide my emotions behind my cup of frappuccino before realizing it’s annoyinglysee-through. “My only friend, in fact.”
“Same.” Josh laughs out an awkward breath of relief.
And I’m feeling just as awkward as him, as if we’re two second-graders at recess pinky-swearing we’re friends forever, instead of adults solving my parents’ murder. Or trying to, at least.
I give myself a shake, and instead think back to Dad’s last words to me before he died. The memory of that phone call on the Greyhound bus is back in full force, now that I’m no longer shoving it aside for being too painful.
“So, uhm,” I begin. “I just thought of something else I kind of forgot to tell you.”
Josh leans in. “Yeah?”
“My dad said he was getting a promotion.”
He raises a confused eyebrow. “And?”
“He worked at Devil Tower. As a janitor.” Crap. Yet another piece of information I should have shared, but the bullies have beaten into me over the years that having a janitor dad is pretty much the most embarrassing thing on Earth. So I wrinkle my nose, expecting some sort of reaction from Josh, but he doesn’t appear to be judging me at all. Huh. “His boss was Bob Nelson,” I add.
Josh raises another eyebrow, and it’s clear he sees the significance ofthis. “Nelson, as in… related to Quill?”
“His dad.” I take another sip of my mocha, fighting the jitters. “So, he got a promotion, but he said it wasn’t entirely related to being good at what he was doing. In fact, he was pretty insistent on the fact that hewasn’tsnooping around…”
