Page 63 of X's and O's

It was just like the last letter Grayson had received.

He spotted it at almost the exact same time I did.

While the others were distracted, scarfing down pizza, I opened the note.

A killer's code, so firm, so tight,

But rules mean nothing in the night.

You chose my name, you set the stage,

Now watch me turn the script to rage.

“We really do have a problem,” Grayson muttered.

I was beginning to realize it was a pretty fucking big one.

The sleek black town car I’d hired was out of place amongst the cracked sidewalks, graffitied walls, and run-down buildings in Saint View. Instead of gliding through the streets, we bumped over potholes, and instead of blending in seamlessly like the car did in Providence, people outside all turned to stare as we passed.

The driver peered through the windshield and then checked the map on his phone. “Sir, this address is correct, yes?”

I could understand why he was asking. I doubted he’d ever come down these streets.

But I had. “It’s correct. It’s your next left.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have you there in a jiffy.”

I leaned against the black leather seats in the back of the car. I knew the area, but that didn’t make me any less surprised than John.

People from this area didn’t normally book my services. They didn’t normally have that kind of disposable cash.

John rounded the corner as I’d indicated he should.

I didn’t even need to look at the numbers on the buildings to know which one hers was.

She was standing right in front of it, arms wrapped around herself, gaze darting all around her like she was worried she might get mugged.

Or that a smart black town car might emerge and she would have to go through with this thing she’d set in motion.

John slowed the car to a roll, and I watched the indecision play out all over her face.

If I’d been a betting man, I would have put money on her running.

“Three…two…” I counted under my breath, just watching her and waiting for that fast spin on her heel and for her to take off back to the safety of her apartment.

John stopped the car. Got out and rounded the hood to get the door for her.

“One.”

Just as predicted, the woman shook her head at John. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mistake. Please tell your boss I won’t be needing his services after all, and I’m so verysorry for standing him up.” She took a step back, staring at John and the car like it was her worst nightmare. She swiveled on low, cheap heels that sank into the soft grass beneath her feet. Lurching forward, she rushed to get back to the safety of her every day.

John opened the door for me.

“Violet.”

She froze at the sound of my voice. And then slowly turned.

Her eyes widened as she took me in, sitting in the back of the car, suit pants neatly ironed, business shirt rolled to the elbows, and top button undone. I hadn’t been in the mood for a tie, so rather than brushing my mostly silver hair, I’d messed it up with some product into something that was as smart-casual as my outfit.