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He snatched it and rubbed his nose. Through a billow of tissue paper came, “He hurt me. He’s going to hurt again.” He glanced at his arm. “But—but I just can’t bring myself to give him up, because . . . because . . .”
“You’re afraid?” I said.
He shook his head, choking on a sob.
“You think it makes you look weak?”
“Fuck off.”
“Because you’re in the closet?”
He threw the tissue between us and banged the phone against the desk. “Because it’s Jack. Because I’m in love with him.”
Silence.
And then it all came crashing into place. How The Night Warrior had slipped the threat into Hannah’s mail, how I thought Freddy had known my name, why Jack had been so cold toward Jill . . .
I clutched my phone. “You need to file a report immediately. And if you think he’s going to hurt someone, call the police. Immediately.”
Jill rubbed the top of the phone against his forehead. “Don’t you think I know that? He wants to teach The Raven a lesson.”
“The Raven,” I repeated. A shiver wormed its way down my spine to the tips of my toes.
“I’m in love with him. He keeps a spare key taped to the back of his desk drawer.” Jill rummaged in his pocket and procured a key. He tossed it between us. “I stalked. Snuck into his apartment, and he has all this stuff on The Raven. He’s hated him with a passion for years. I always thought it was because he didn’t believe in using violence to stop violence.” He glanced pointedly at his arm. “I don’t think that anymore.”
I leaped to my feet. “Do you think he’s figured out who—?”
“Yes,” Jill said, pressing something on the phone. “From the stuff I read, Jack’s been working with someone to gather information on—and lure out—The Raven.”
“Why does he care so much?”
Jill rested the phone and swiveled his chair. He fumbled through a bag and brought out a folder-full of newspaper clippings and photos. “The Raven knocked Jack’s brother down and held him until the police arrived. He disappeared just as they pulled up.”
I took the folder. “Is this what you found at Jack’s?”
“Everything. Call me pissed, but I took it all. Among a few other things.”
I marched to the shredder and fed every scrap of evidence about The Raven into it. Glancing out the windows, I was met with the view of Cathedral of Learning lit with featured lights.
The Raven’s gonna lose his wings
We’ll smile while he sings and sings
Then we’d love to watch him fly
Through a deep, dark, angry sky
Acid rose up my throat as I remembered Jack saying he would be at the cathedral party to work. I sucked in a sharp breath. He was going to attack tonight.
Fingers trembling on my phone, I rushed out of the office, dialing the police—
“Someone I know is about to commit an assault . . .” Jill spoke firmly into the phone.
“Tell them that it might be happening at the cathedral party,” I said. I barreled for the door. The police would take anywhere from seven to ten minutes to get to the cathedral?
My friends were across the street. I had to warn them.
I ran.
Chapter 19
I kept running.
I made it into the neo-gothic building, skidding around the corridor to the elevators, and pounded on the UP button.
My heart punched against my ribs. “Come on!”
The elevator dinged open, and two women spilled out laughing, one tugging the other by the hand. I squeezed past them and pressed for the 32nd floor, once, twice, three times.
The doors grated shut, and each second passing made it feel like the elevator was being manually lifted. I shifted my weight, my hands clamped into balls at my side. I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming. An age later, the doors squealed open and I skidded into the party.
Tens of students and lecturers chattered over a live Bach pianoforte, popping hors d'oeuvres into their mouths. Through the thick pack of champagne-drinking tuxedos and gowns, Quinn and Hunter weren’t anywhere to be seen. Darting around a waiter in a golden waistcoat balancing a tray of caviar, I spotted Hannah near a large bookshelf, leaning against Roger, who was playing with the ends of her hair.
I pushed my way to her, stumbling over my shoelace. “Have you seen Quinn and Shannon? Or Hunter and Mitch?”
Hannah tilted her head. “Are you okay, Liam?”
“No,” I said, scanning the crowd once more. “Have you seen anyone?”
“Is Hunter the one in the wheelchair?” Hannah asked. “I saw him and another guy head into the bathrooms ten minutes ago—”
I zipped to the bathrooms, banging my shoulder against the door in my hurry. It swung in. Cold air whistled through a partially open window, but otherwise it was unoccupied—
No.
An empty wheelchair sat in an open stall, a camera bag hanging on the back—
