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Even though we were double-parked only a car’s length from my place, neither Shannon nor Quinn seemed to notice us. Hunter used the main control to roll down my window. A cool breeze and Quinn’s voice hit my face.
“I’m telling you because you’re my best friend.” Quinn kicked his heel into the grass at the edge of the path. Then softer, “But I should have told you sooner. Much sooner. I’m sorry for that.”
Shannon’s hair shook free of a loose hold. Her blue streaks shone brightly under the ornate lamppost nestled in front of a large willow lining the path. She was scrunching something in her hand, paper of some sort. “You . . .” she trailed off, stepping back, her shit-kickers clomping against the concrete.
She glanced to her side, and her gaze latched onto the van. Us. She sought Hunter, eyes glazed and saddened.
Tossing the paper at Quinn, she hurried up the street, quickly disappearing into thick shadows.
“What was that about?” Hunter mused as we watched Quinn chase after her in his pajama bottoms, unzipped parka, and unlaced boots.
I slipped out of the van. Shivering against another breeze, I darted to the path, chasing after the scuttling balled paper. I opened it, carefully flattening the paper against my thigh. The words jumped out at me, sharp and long like Freddy’s fingers had been. It was the flyer from the Jell-O party. The one wanting any and every bit of information on The Raven. The one threatening to hurt him.
For a long, cold minute I stared at that paper until all of my thoughts crashed together and unified to give me an answer. The answer.
Calmly, I walked back to the van. To Hunter. I leaned against the door and looked over at him. “I figured it out,” I said, sliding the paper onto the passenger seat. “I know who The Raven is.”
“You just figured it out? Bang, just like that?”
“You sound surprised.”
He tried to laugh, but his curiosity was too dominant. “Who is he then?”
I leaned in and told him. When he’d heard everything I had to say, he shook his head. “No. That can’t be right.” He was already starting the car. He dropped his gaze to his legs, and I shut the door. His head shook again, and he glanced at me one last time before hightailing out of there. “I would have known.”
Chapter 15
I dressed for bed and sat myself on the couch with my laptop, awaiting Quinn’s return. I had scanned old articles that had anything to do with The Raven, and in combination with what victims had told me, I was certain I was right.
Quinn came in with a bang of the door, and kicked off his boots. He shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor. He didn’t bother to pick it up. The bottoms of his pajamas were soaked with mud and he peeled them off, hopping on one foot and muttering cuss words when they caught.
I swiveled on the end of the couch, shutting my laptop and setting it on the glass table.
The motion elicited a startled look from Quinn in my direction. His stiff shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he tossed his pajama bottoms on top of his abandoned jacket and moved toward me, wearing only his tightie-whities and a matching tank-top.
“Liam,” he said, my name coming like a relieved sigh off his lips.
It was a warm sound that skittered over my skin, the same way the electrical current did between us when we got close. Part of me wanted to give in to the feeling, loosen with it as if it were a drug, but I was in better control of my facilities than to let that happen.
I pushed myself off the couch and faced him. Whatever my expression was, it was enough to make him stop mid-step. I didn’t beat around the bush. “I know who The Raven is.”
He braced his other foot to the floor. “You do?” But it came out less of a question, than a resignation.
“Yes, Quinn. I do.”
He drew a pattern with his sweaty sock over the floor. A triangle, or a square. “What are you going to do?” He paused, and his voice grew softer, wearier. “Report him?”
“It would be a sure way to land the features editor position.” I swallowed and searched his eyes. “But I’m not callous. Especially not when it comes to you. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t know squat about The Raven. But—”
He lifted his head and angled it, reading me so intently all those tingles returned.
I shook them off. “But it has to stop, Quinn. One wrong move and it could be over. The end. I don’t think either of us wants that happen.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “I’m trying. But it’s not as easy to stop as you think.”
