Page 22 of Killer Notes

“Calm down.” John orders and then turns to me. “Harper called. He’s sending reinforcements. Pen and Jordan will arrive tomorrow night.”

“I’m not happy about the relocation idea,” Ron declares, his nostrils flare and a deep frown slices across his face.

“Well tough,” I toss out. “Safety is the number one goal here, and you all need to know that.”

“I explained that to them,” John says.

“Hello,” Danny shouts. “Why are you splitting us up?”

I turn to Danny, who’s standing there shaking and frowning up at me. If he wants the hard truth, I’ll give it to him. “Because you are the target. Those words on that garage wall prove it, along with that note today, confirming whoever it is, is aiming for you. Intentionally or not, anyone around you is at risk. Do you understand that?”

Defeat crests in Danny’s eyes, his shoulders slump and a tear slips down his cheek. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Well, I fucking don’t.” Connor pulls away from Danny to face off with me. “I think staying together is safer.”

“Usually,” I admit, “But not now.” I can understand the drummer is worried for his friend. I would be, too, since some crazy person is threatening his life. But why do I get the feeling there’s more between them than I’m seeing?

“That’s not good enough,” Connor rails.

“Calm the fuck down and listen, Wild,” John barks at the drummer.

My eyes trail to each member until I land on Connor again, who’s glowering at John like he’s the enemy.

“You saw those words. Bitch is in all caps. Does that mean something to anyone of you?”

“Yes—maybe. I’m…” Connor turns to Danny. “Remember that guy we used to callbitchin high school?”

“You’re the only one who called him a bitch to his face,” Danny says with a hint of dread. “Sam Jenson. Do you really think he’s stalking me?”

“Dude, I remember that guy. Every fucking day, he’d show up with his crappy guitar and ask to play with us. He creeped me out, especially the way he gawked at Danny like a ham sandwich he wanted to bone.” Bobby shivers.

“That doesn’t make any sense, Hicks,” John says.

“I remember now. It was Connor’s idea to get a shirt made that said “bitch” on the front, all in caps.” Raef chuckles but abruptly stops. A sobering expression crosses his face. “But wait, didn’t that guy die in the car accident at the end of our senior year?”

Silence fills the space.

“You’re right, Raef,” Danny says solemnly.

“What about his family?” John asks.

“Not long after the accident, the family moved away and I never saw them again,” Danny explains, slumping into a chair. “That weekend was bad. We lost three in our senior class.”

“Same or different incidents?” I ask, getting the sense they might be connected.

“Same… You don’t think…” Danny’s words trail off when a knock comes from the door. We all slightly jump from the sudden noise.

I walk to the door and look through the peep hole. It’s one of the building’s security guys, so I open it. “Yes,” I say, standing in the doorway.

“The cops got what they needed in the garage. The building manager is working on getting someone here to replace the garage entry pad,” the man says as he tries to look over my shoulder, but I block him from seeing anyone in the condo.

“Sounds good,” I reply with a subtle nod and close the door.

“Calm down, Mr. Darling.” I turn to find John staring down at the band manager.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Harper needs to work harder on this matter. Warrior Black has interviews—”

“Cancel them. If you want your band to be safe—Danny to be safe—then cancel those interviews.”