Page 19 of Nothing More

Six

Raven was so glad to see the dreadful necklace box walk out the door in Melissa’s bag that she didn’t even argue when Ian gently suggested she clear the rest of the day’s schedule and head home early. Glimpsing a stolen six-figure ring on a severed finger, addressed to her as some sort of gift no less, had decimated the last of her stubbornness. She began the long process that was replying to emails, tying up loose ends, checking with department heads and penciling in memos for tomorrow that eventually led to departure.

Toly slipped away.

But Ian stayed. Ian and Bruce.

And Bennet didn’t arrive, she noted, when the door opened and she glanced up to see only Miles, gone to get Cokes for himself and Cassandra.

“You don’t need to stay, darling,” she finally told Ian, as she closed her laptop and slipped it into her bag. “I’m sure you’re busy, and Bennet should be here any moment. In fact” – she checked her watch and frowned – “he should have been here a half hour ago. I texted him at four-thirty.”

“Ah,” Ian said, and his expression left her immediately suspicious. “About that. Bennet isn’t coming.”

“He’swhat?” Alarm and annoyance warred within her. Stomach growling and leaping with nerves in turn, alarm won out. “Whyever not?”

“I think – and don’t shoot the messenger, I’m only passing word along – that he’s to meet you at your place. He has a spare key, yes? He’s going to do a full sweep of the flat before you arrive to ensure that it’s safe.”

“Oh. Well. I suppose that’s wise.”Ridiculous, because none of this should be happening at all, but wise nonetheless.

“Yes. Bruce and I shall…” He looked at his phone, nodded, and stood. “Walk you down to the parking garage. If you’re ready, that is.” His smile lifted her hackles again.

“Ian. What’s going on?”

“Goodness, I wish I knew. Hopefully Detective Dixon will find some answers and be able to tell us more soon.”

He was a good liar – but he lied like a rich elite, just like her, so she could tell he was doing so now. She narrowed her gaze.

He grinned, flashing all his perfect teeth.

“Fine.” She stood, donned jacket and bag, and motioned to Cassandra to do the same. “Be a wanker.”

He chuckled.

“Miles, Cass, we’re going.”

“Yes, Generalissimo,” Miles said, and bit his lip when she shot him a glare.

Raven checked on Melanie, ensuring she wasn’t too rattled, and asked one of the agency’s security guards to walk her down to her car when she left. Then, Bruce looming over all of them as a hulking shadow, she rode down to the garage in the elevator with her siblings and Ian.

Her phone chimed with a text alert on the fifth floor.

From Walsh:call me.

“It’s King,” she said, before anyone could ask. “Fulfilling his duties as the eldest Stateside brother, I suppose. ‘Call me,’ he says, so he can commence with the old biddy routine.”

“Or,” Ian said, amusement coloring his voice, “he’s concerned because he loves you and wants to ensure that you’re okay for himself.”

“Perhaps. But he can’t do that without sounding like my grandmother, I’m afraid.”

Ian sighed wistfully. “Some of us don’t even have grandmothers. It sounds lovely to be fussed over so.”

“You do have a grandmother, one you never see, so don’t try to make me feel guilty.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dear.”

The elevator arrived at the parking garage with a polite ding, the doors slid open – and Raven did a double-take.

At first, she thought the man with a boot braced against the wall opposite, smoking a cigarette, was a vagrant who’d wandered in off the street. She had a fast impression of hair falling over his eyes, and tattered jeans, and the strong stink of the cigarette, and everything inside her screamedDANGER.