I broke away and pressed my hand to my lips, sealing in the memory and knowing it would be the last time I ever felt something so real. I fought to catch my breath, to calm my pounding heart, and looked in his tortured stone eyes.
“Goodbye, Agent Bray.”
CHAPTER27
Del Rio waited for me like a sunny little prison. The lawns were still perfectly mowed, the flower beds popping like confetti. The smell of fresh baked cookies and joy on the air. A new face, not Bray, Ramesh, or Agent Simmons, had driven me back to the apartment and left me without ceremony. And no gun. Of course they’d confiscated the one Bray had given me back at the station. I was unarmed, unless you counted the umbrella and the bat, and right back where I’d started, except now more clueless and with the memory of the best kiss of my life blistering my lips. My best hope was the ghosts were still in Houston trying to find us, but that hope was slim. It was only a matter of time before someone came around to finish the job.
I entered the still silence of my apartment and strained my ears for signs of threat. Maybe they’d rigged the place with explosives while I was gone. Maybe they’d set up their own cameras. Maybe Olena herself was camping out in the closet, just waiting for me to return.
After a quick sweep, I found it was, indeed, empty. Everything was how I’d left it that day I went to work at Melanie’s, and then got dragged to the station by Agent Simmons and never came back. A dirty coffee mug still sat in the sink, and my one shoe left over from when the ghost had twisted my anklesat by the door. It was a sad portrait of a lonely life interrupted. I was alone once more.
Until the doorbell rang. All my senses jumped to high alert. I reached for the gun I no longer had and cursed. Whoever was ringing had to have been watching to see I’d come home. I reminded myself with a deep breath that the ghosts wouldn’t ring. They’d bust down the door or slither in through a crack I didn’t know about. This could not be them. Still, I approached the door with caution.
When I saw Alisha’s smiling face on the other side, I nearly melted into a puddle of relief.
“Hey, neighbor!” she greeted with a bright smile when I opened the door. Jeffrey was bundled in his BuggyBaby luxury stroller, and she held a small stack of envelopes in her hand. She lightly bounced like she always did, even though she wasn’t holding the baby, and I found myself smiling back at her.
“Hi there.”
“Hi. I saw you just got back home. This letter for you was accidentally put in my slot in the mail room. I figured I’d drop it off since I was on my way out!” I nearly flinched. I didn’t even know who had my address to send me mail. The thought sent a chill down my spine, because the answer should have beenno one.
“I didn’t open it, don’t worry!” she said with an innocent and genuinely sweet smile.
“Oh, thank you!” I said, still stumbling to keep up, and now with my curiosity truly piqued.
Letter writing seemed too indirect for Olena. The woman had stationed two henchmen in Houston to wait for me to show up. She wasn’t about to pen a personal missive and drop it in the mail.
Another candidate popped into my mind. Could it have been from … my father? Maybe it was an apology for the other night. Maybe he’d gotten my address through whatever back channel Bray had used to get to him.
“No problem,” Alisha said, and handed it to me. “I hope everything is going okay since your uncle passed.”
“Oh … yes. It is. Thank you,” I muttered, having forgotten I was supposed to be mourning a dead relative but mostly wanting to end this conversation so I could find out what this mysterious letter was. “I’m still getting settled from the trip to his funeral. Lots to do.” I gave her a polite smile and started to close the door.
“Of course. Glad to see you are back. We are off for a walk. See you around!” she sang, and started pushing the stroller toward the sidewalk.
“Bye!” I sang back, already sucked back into the Del Rio rhythm. I shut the door and locked it. My heart picked up speed as I walked to the dining table and sat. The envelope was addressed to Lauren Thomas from a J. Wallace, with a return address in San Francisco.
“What?” I said under my breath and flipped it over, heart in my throat, to rip the seal. I gasped at the sight of familiar handwriting.
Hey kid,
If you’re reading this, it means my plan has been put in motion and I’m probably gone. Sorry I couldn’t be straight with you, but it was for your own safety. I’ve spent ten years trying to keep you safe, and I can only hope this final attempt worked.
The truth is, I’ve had the diamond this whole time. I intercepted it and put it in a safe-deposit box in Houston as an insurance policy that night we met. The reason I did it is complicated, but I hope you’ll hear me out.
See, you were the true gem I stumbled on that night. When the Feds called in they’d caught a teenaged grifter as part of a larger sting, my ears perked up. I’d been workingcases for years and had never seen anyone with as much potential as you. I wanted the opportunity to actually do some good, and I knew after looking through your file and talking to you for five minutes, you and I could do great things together. You were the best partner I ever had, kid.
I also knew if I would have handed over the diamond to evidence, Olena would have stopped looking for you, and you’d have been safe, because then they’d have known where it was and not thought you had it. But I kept it hidden to keep you. To make a reason to keep you in the DSA under our protection, because you were so useful to me.
You wouldn’t have gone to prison for more than a few years if a judge didn’t let you off entirely. I made all that up that night. I only said all that to scare you into saying yes to my offer. It was selfish and wrong, and I’m so sorry, kid. I wish I could tell you to your face.
You did a lot of good in the years we were together, you can believe me on that. But it wasn’t right of me to keep you locked up for so long. It might be too late, but I’m doing everything in my power now to hand you your freedom.
Just like you, that rock is too beautiful to be locked up. I moved it, and you, for your safety. I have a feeling you’ll find a way to get your hands on it.
Yours, JW
I read the letter twice, the first time through a shocked haze, and the second, through a blur of complicated tears. Was it anger? Relief? Sadness? I couldn’t pinpoint which emotion had the strongest grip on me.
