Seventh Grave and No Body

  That seemed to intrigue him. “Shoot.”

  “I think that this is very personal for the assailant. I think that whoever is doing this is making a statement. He wants people to know that the person who supposedly wrote the suicide note did not deserve the life they’d been given.”

  “You’re getting pretty good at this stuff.”

  I deflated. “You already knew that.”

  “It’s one of several working theories. But you’re definitely on the right track. This is very personal, and whatever these people have in common will lead us to a suspect. I’m certain of it.”

  “Okay, well, let me know what you find out.”

  “Will do. You do the same. See you tonight.”

  I disconnected the call and turned into the cemetery. The Sunset Cemetery may be marinating in death, but it was not the local hangout for the departed. On the contrary. Most dead people had little reason to hang out in such a lifeless, depressing place. A simple fact that explained beautifully why I liked cemeteries so much. Not many live people. Not many dead people. Even as a child, I preferred the morbid atmosphere of an ancient burial ground over the lovely grasses of parks. People rarely died at cemeteries. Parks, on the other hand, seemed a magnet for mayhem. And the murders that happened in parks were almost always particularly brutal, as if evil fed on the innocent intentions found there. Thus, cemeteries were one of my favorite places on earth.

  The girl from the shower, Lacey Banks, was standing by her grave, and she waved me over when she saw me. “You came!” she said as I stepped out of Misery.

  “Of course I did. This is you?” I asked her, but she’d spotted Reyes, and her jaw fell open.

  He walked a few feet from the Jeep to survey the landscape.

  “Lacey?” I said, waving a hand in front of her face.

  She snapped back to me. “Sorry, it’s just, he’s very – He’s so —”

  “I know. This is you?” I repeated.

  “Oh, yeah. Home sweet home.”

  I poked around a bit before stating the obvious. “The site is completely intact. There’s no sign of disturbance. What makes you think your body is no longer here?”

  “Because my coffin is empty.”

  “What?” Her statement caught me off guard. Not sure why. “You can see into your coffin?”

  “Well, yeah. Duh. If I go down there.”

  I had never thought of that. “But why would you want to?”

  She jammed a fist onto her hip. “I am slowly decomposing. It’s awesome! I want to see it in stages. You know, check out what I look like every so often. Sadly, the embalming fluid is slowing down the process drastically.”

  “Yes,” I said, kicking at the ground with my toe, “that is a sad dilemma.” The grass covering her grave was a little softer than it should have been. It did feel disturbed. It just didn’t look like it.

  “Oh, and I searched my ex’s house. No Lacey anywhere to be found. Maybe he didn’t do it after all.”

  “If he did, I’ll find out.” I called Ubie back. “Sorry!” I said before he could say anything.

  “No problem. What’s up?”

  “Can I get a warrant to have a grave dug up?”

  He laughed. “You ask the strangest things. And no. Not without some very compelling evidence as to why it should be. Exhuming a body is a serious matter.”

  “Darn. Well, that’s the problem. There’s no body in there.”

  “Three others are missing as well,” she said to me.

  “Ew, what?” I asked.

  “What?” Ubie said.

  “Hold on,” I said to him, then turned back to Lacey. “There are three more empty graves?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I checked. I can show you. They’re all girls, and they were all buried within the last five years.”

  “Yuck,” I said, wishing I hadn’t asked. “Just yuck. It looks like we have a grave robber, Uncle Bob. But the site looks completely undisturbed.”

  “I can check with the captain, but again, exhuming a body is kind of a big deal. I’m going to need something. Some kind of evidence the grave has been seriously disturbed. Not just vandalized.”

  I sighed aloud. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Should I bring wine tonight?”

  “Um, sure.” I still had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “And sparkling grape juice for me.”

  “Got it.”

  We hung up again and I looked around for Reyes. When I didn’t see him, alarm shot through me. The Twelve.

  “No,” I said, running to where I last saw him. “This is consecrated ground. They can’t come on here.”

  “Are you looking for the guy who came with you?” Lacey asked. “He’s over there.”

  She pointed toward the mausoleum. I hurried toward it, worried the Twelve had shown up, and spotted Reyes talking to someone. I stopped short and ducked behind a tree. He was talking to a woman. A beautiful, tall woman with hair the exact color of honey. She wore a flowing white evening gown and a million-dollar smile. And she was dead.

  I caught the soft scent of White Shoulders on the breeze, and I knew she’d been at the Java Loft earlier. I’d felt a departed. It had to have been her.

  She turned and saw me, said something to Reyes while gesturing toward me with a delicate hand, and flashed that brilliant smile. He didn’t turn around. Instead, he turned away, and I felt the heat of his anger from where I stood.

  “Time to go,” I said to Lacey, hurrying back to Misery.

  Being left high and dry would infuriate him, but my number one goal in life at that moment was keeping Reyes out of jail. I had a feeling the woman had been spying on me at the coffee shop. She probably overheard my entire conversation with Ubie about Bumpy Navarra. But I knew something he didn’t. I knew where Bumpy lived and did business.

  I’d go to the businesses first and try to get an explanation out of him. There was no telling what Reyes would do to him, and that temper could land my fiancé right back in prison. He’d spent too much time incarcerated for a crime he didn’t commit. I couldn’t imagine what he’d do to Bumpy if Reyes thought the man had sent Zeke after me, but I was fairly certain it would land him right back in a six-by-eight.

  “But what about my body?” Lacey said.

  “No worries, hon.” I tapped Barbara on the temple. “I have a plan.”

  “Oh. Okay. So, I’ll just wait here?”

  “Yes. Perfect. You do that.”

  I jumped in Misery and turned the key just as my driver’s door opened. And boy was the opener peeved.

  “Oh, hey,” I said, offering him my best guileless smile. “Just warming her up.”

  He lowered his head and glared at me. Glared! “You knew,” he said, his voice deep. Accusing.

  Clearly the charade was up, but I had a few things of my own to be peeved about. “You sent that woman to spy on me.”

  He eased forward, his anger exploding around me like aftershocks. “After that little stunt you pulled yesterday, I sent her to keep an eye on you. To make sure you were safe.”

  “And to spy,” I said.

  “You knew who Schneider worked for and you kept it from me.”

  I turned off the engine. “Because I also knew what you would do.”

  “You had no right to keep that from me.”

  “I was going to tell you. I just needed to talk to him first.”

  He stabbed me with an incredulous look, a harsh one that needed no interpretation. He thought me a fool. The laugh that followed proved that.

  “Do you have any idea what he would have done to you if you’d just waltzed into his place and asked him why he sent a man to kill you?”

  I fought past the sting of his opinion of me. “He didn’t send him to kill me. He sent him to kill you. Remember?”

  “For fuck’s sake, Dutch,” he said, pushing off Misery and away from me. “Will there ever come a time when you take this shit seriously?”

  “I do, asswipe,” I
said, restarting my car. “And you can walk.”

  I slammed my door shut before he got back to me and floored it, leaving a trial of dust as I hurried out of the cemetery. I risked one look in the rearview. Reyes stood, furious, fists at his side as I pulled onto the road. I could still make it to Bumpy’s place of business before he even figured out where the man was.

  Thinking ahead, I texted Cook and told her not to let on she knew about Bumpy or his addresses. Then I told her to text them to me.

  “What are you doing?” a female voice said from my passenger’s side.

  Jessica had decided to pop in. Wonderful.

  “Go away,” I said to her. “I am so not in the mood.”

  “He’s only trying to keep you safe,” she said, her voice sad. “No one has ever gone to those lengths for me, and you get mad at him every time he tries to help.”

  “No, I don’t. He’s being an ass. And he sent a spy. A spy!” A tumultuous rage roiled inside me. His true feelings about me, about what he considered incompetence, stung more than anything he could ever say to me outright. It wasn’t even about the woman. It was about his belief that I could barely walk and chew gum at the same time. His reaction had proved it.

  I wanted to cry. I actually wanted to cry. I never knew he thought me so incapable. So inept. Then again, I wasn’t completely stupid. I picked up my phone and dialed my go-to guy.

  “Hey, Charles, a little busy,” Garrett said.

  “Reyes thinks I’m inept.”

  I heard a thud and some glass breaking in the background. “No, he doesn’t. Where are you?”

  “Where are you? I need backup.”

  “I’m in the middle of a bust. Give me an hour.”

  “I don’t have an hour. It’s okay, I’ll call Osh.”

  “See you tonight for dinner?”

  “Sure.” What the hell was tonight? Whatever it was, everyone was going to be there.

  I called Osh, but he didn’t pick up. Probably still angry about being attacked by the asswipe known as my affianced. He could just stand in the cemetery and stew all he wanted. I was going to reason with Bumpy. Though I probably wouldn’t call him that to his face.

  I tried his residence first because it was closer and kind of on the way in an out-of-the-way sort of way. A maid answered and said he wasn’t home, so I went to the business address that lacked a business name. I pulled into the parking lot, which was in an alley, and walked around to the side entrance, the one with a door slightly ajar and music leaching out.

  After gathering my nerve, I stepped inside. Once my vision adjusted to the low light, I realized it was more like a pool hall with music and a bunch of guys standing around drinking beer. The few women in the place were serving drinks and dressed in short shorts and tanks. Their heels were higher than Denise’s IQ. The interesting part of my entrance was that everyone, every single gaze in the place, turned toward me.

  I waved shyly. “Hi. I was just looking for a Mr. Bruno Navarra.”

  “What do you want with him?” someone asked. I think it was the man tending bar.

  “I have a business proposition.”

  The woman closest to me laughed. “You’re too dressed for that, honey.”

  The rest of the room burst into laughter at my expense as she examined me from head to toe.

  “He likes a little more skin and a little less attitude, if you know what I mean.”

  I rocked on my heels and waited for the comedy club to die down.

  A male voice wafted toward me then. “What kind of business proposition?”

  Cookie had texted me a picture of Bumpy, and I recognized him at a table, playing cards.

  I stepped forward and said softly, “I’d like to save your life today.”

  Again with the laughter, but Bumpy held up a hand and it stopped instantly.

  “And who is it you’re saving my life from?”

  “I think you know the name Reyes Farrow.”

  Bumpy stilled. After a moment, he looked around as though expecting Reyes to show up. “How is Farrow?” he asked, but his tune had changed completely. Everyone sensed it and kept their snickering down.

  “Angry,” I replied.

  He nodded. “Let’s go to my office.”

  I had Zeus in my boot. I could only hope he would be enough if I needed to defend myself.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” he asked as he led me to a cluttered office in the back.

  “No, thank you.”

  “So, as far as I know, Farrow and I are cool. Why the sudden interest?”

  In his office, away from the others, I got a good read on Bruno Navarra. The only word I could use to describe him at that moment was afraid. I felt genuine fear emanating out of him. If he was afraid of Reyes, why would he send a guy to take him out?

  “Zeke Schneider,” I said, and Navarra bowed his head.

  “One of my best men. He’ll be missed.”

  “Not that one, the other one.”

  Before Navarra could reply, Reyes had burst through the door, his anger bathing me in a blistering heat. He gave Navarra a once-over, then focused the full force of his anger on me.

  I’d stood the minute he barged through the door and found myself backing up a little. Not because I was afraid of Reyes Farrow. On the contrary. I was still hurt. Angry.

  “Farrow,” Navarra said, growing more nervous by the moment. “I have no idea what this woman is talking about.”

  Reyes turned his anger on Navarra now, granting me a short reprieve. “You sent a man after me.” He stepped closer to the crime lord’s desk. “He found my fiancée first.”

  Navarra shook his head, bewildered.

  “And even now, I’m surprised, considering our history.” He pointed past Navarra, toward the wall behind him.

  “Weapons down, boys,” he said, raising his hands. Two men came out from behind a false wall and placed their guns on Navarra’s desk. “Better?” he asked Reyes. “But I remember our past quite well. You know I wouldn’t send anyone after you or your fiancée.”

  He wasn’t lying.

  “What is this about?”

  “Zeke Schneider,” I repeated. Before he could tell me again he was dead, I added, “Junior.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Navarra sat back down at his desk and wiped a hand over his mouth in frustration. “That little piece of shit. The only reason he’s alive is out of respect for his old man.”

  “Why would he come after me?” Reyes asked.

  Navarra sighed. “He wanted in. I said no. His dad must’ve told him about you. He must’ve thought that if he took you out, I’d let him in.” He shook his head again. “That kid is a troublemaker and a snitch. I wouldn’t have let him back in if he’d given me his firstborn.”

  “He was a snitch?” I asked, growing a little worried. “Was he a CI for anyone?”

  “Not that I know of. Mostly in prison. Used to suck any dick he could for information. Had something going on with one of the guards. His father, God rest his soul, was ashamed they shared the same name.”

  I did notice Navarra’s use of the present tense when speaking about Zeke. He didn’t know anything about what the guy was up to.

  “See?” I asked Reyes while pointing to Navarra. “Handled. And without any deaths or severed spines.”

  “Thanks to me.”

  “Navarra was a complete gentleman, unlike someone else in the room. I was never in any danger, despite your low opinion of me.”

  “My low opinion? What the fuck —?”

  “You think I’m inept, and that’s fine,” I said, not meaning a word of it. “But —”

  “Inept?” he asked, taken aback. “I’ve never thought that.”

  “Please, Reyes, I can feel emotions just as well as you can. I felt your reaction, your gut reaction, in the cemetery.”

  He ground his teeth together. “If you’re going to read my emotions, at least read them correctly. I do not think you inept. On the contrary. I was just amazed that you
would insist on handling the suicide investigation, that you would prance to a cemetery to look for a body —”

  “Prance?”

  “— that you would try to talk to a crime boss alone, all the while knowing what you know.”

  “Did you say prance? Wait, what do I know? No, better yet, what do you think you know?”

  “The wall. I know about the wall.”

  “What?” I asked him, baffled.

  He stepped closer. Dangerously close. I could drop him. I knew that now, and I’d do it if he threatened me. “The wall. I saw it.” When I still didn’t understand, he lowered his voice and said, “Rocket’s wall. Your name on Rocket’s wall.”

  Realization rushed through me, causing a tingle of understanding as it laced down my spine. “That’s what this is about?” I asked.

  “You know it is. Rocket is never wrong. There’s a reason for that, and you know your name is on that wall. You know he saw your death, and yet you rush headlong into any fucking situation that strikes your fancy.” He turned away from me as though in disgust.

  “Your name was on there, too,” I said, raising my chin a notch.

  He whirled around in surprise.

  “There are always loopholes, Reyes. I found one with you. You didn’t die like you were supposed to that day.”

  To say he was astonished would’ve been an understatement. He gazed at me, completely stunned, his eyes watering from the turbulence rocketing through him. “Then I should have died, and you risked your life needlessly.”

  “What did you just say?” I marched up to him, appalled he could even think such a thing.

  “You risked your life for me.” He took my shoulders into his hands. “When are you going to learn, Dutch: No one matters but you and the baby. You keep risking your life —” He threw one hand out to indicate our surroundings. “— on things that are not the least bit important.” He stepped even closer. “On people who committed suicide and crazy chicks in cemeteries and —” He stopped and dropped a heated gaze on me. His voice cracked when he said in a hushed tone, “I can’t lose you.”

  “And I can lose you?” I asked, almost screaming at him.

  He lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Then he admitted what was probably his greatest fear. “I don’t know how to win. I don’t have the faintest idea of how to kill the Twelve. And when I saw your name on that wall.” His breath hitched in his chest. Then he focused his coffee-colored gaze on me. “If you die,” he said with a savage vehemence in his voice, “I will go straight to hell and kill every demon there. Or I’ll perish in the attempt.”