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Legend gripped my arm. “What if he wants you here so that you’re not where you should be?”
Panic choked me. “Legend, the Bedlam House! Are Arsenio and Jacques still there?”
“They don’t have classes till after noon. There’s no reason they wouldn’t be.”
“We have to—!”
Something flickered in the corner of my eye. In the split second my brain processed the information, a guy dropped his backpack at the foot of the stairs, scattering notes that flew away with the wind.
Shock bleaching his skin, he clutched the arrow sticking out of his chest.
“Ahh! Ahhh!”
Students screamed—shoving, crying, and running in every direction. But the loudest screams were mine.
Legend carried me away as security rushed in, shouting for all to get inside. He ran with me clear across campus to the Bedlam House.
A black letter lay on the welcome mat.
“HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN going on?”
“Months,” Henry replied.
The investigator squeezed my shoulder and Cairo was there in an instant, drawing me out of his reach and moving me between him and Legend.
His automatic possessiveness would’ve made me smile if that was something I could still do.
“Do you still have the letters?” asked the detective.
Samuel Ribecco, Henry’s friend on the force, was an older, weathered man. Gray hair, furrowed brow, and ingrained weariness in his blue eyes gave the look of a man who’d seen and lived through it all.
Henry was the first call I made after Legend rushed me home. The next morning, the three of us drove to his office in Hunter’s Crest where the two of them waited for us.
“Yes,” I rasped. “Some of them. Here.”
I handed over the ones I had left, including his latest.
Don’t say I never give you anything.
Someone had to die for your betrayal, but as a gift to the Bedlam Boys who I’m sure are reading over your shoulder right now, I decided that someone didn’t have to be Paris or one of them.
At this point, I’m certain we understand each other and we won’t have this problem again.
Love ya. XOXO
Ribecco read with a rapidly worsening expression. “I see,” he said. “How is the kid who was hit?”
“Critical condition,” Legend said. “Though he meant to kill him, his aim was off. Missed his heart. But it’s still bad.”
Ribecco pierced me through. “You should’ve gone to the police straight away.”
“You don’t know how this goes by now, detective?” I glared right back. “I didn’t forget to put a trip to the station on my to-do list. He threatened me if I told, then he revealed he has friends feeding him details of a murder investigation. I was trying to stop more people from getting hurt, and I’m here now because I obviously failed. So, are you going to help or just sit around banging on about what I should’ve done?!”
“Easy, Rainey,” Mr. Gold said. “Sam didn’t mean anything by it. We all want the same thing here.” He gave his friend a pointed look. “This madman behind bars. Sam, the letters are no longer being hand-delivered. He’s too smart to walk into a post office, so I say we stake out the mail drop boxes in town. See who shows up with a black letter.”
“Not a bad idea,” Ribecco said, tucking the letters in his coat pocket. “How often does he send you these letters?”
“Once a week. Maybe more.”
He bobbed his head, scratching his stubby beard. “A week. Bedlam’s a small town. There won’t be many boxes for us to cover. Go easier if you could lend some of that fancy surveillance equipment, Henry.”
“It’s yours.”
“Bedlam is a special case,” Ribecco told me. “I am allowed to make arrests in that jurisdiction. Even so, the HCPD usually extends the courtesy of a heads-up before we move in on another sheriff’s turf.”
“It’s too dangerous,” I said. “The Letter Man doesn’t need to kill any more people to prove he’s serious. If he finds out I handed these over to you...” I tossed my head. “I don’t want to think about what’ll happen. Part of me didn’t want to come here, but Mr. Gold said I could trust you.”
“You can. Henry and I got it from here,” he said. “You go home and get some rest. If another letter shows up, contact me immediately. Before you even open it.”
“Okay.”
Henry led us out.
“Give us a week.” He opened the door to a deceptively beautiful morning in a worry-free town. “One week, and we’ll have something for you.
“Good luck, Rainey.”
TEN DAYS LATER, MY phone hadn’t rung.
I broke down and called Gold on the eighth day. I got an answering machine and a recorded voice promising to call me back. Two days and I was still waiting for that call.
“What if something happened?”
Arsenio’s hands were cold on my throat, draping the necklace between my collarbone.
“This silence isn’t like him. He’s never missed a call before. Plus, he promised an update in a week. What if something happened to him?” I stopped Arsenio from reaching for his tie. “What if the Letter Man found out he was looking for him?”
