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“I wanted New Orleans to be my home. This is the city I love more than anything, but I don’t think so.”
“And the gallery?”
“It’s okay. The rent is paid through the end of the month. I’ll get a few things and just let it go. I don’t have any other choices.”
“You can stay and fight.”
All I could do was laugh.
“Okay. Maybe that is a crazy idea. And this artist?”
Every instinct I had told me the man was already dead. “You’re right. I can’t worry about him right now.”
“Where are you going?”
I closed my eyes. “I don’t know.”
She unfastened her seatbelt, dragging me closer. “I’m terrified for you, Eden. I wish I could help. Won’t you consider going to the police?”
“There’s nothing they can do, Jazzy. Cruz hasn’t done anything to me and other than a dead rat being sent, no one had threatened me directly. I’ll be okay. I’ve done this before.” I thought back to the roses and a word Cruz had used on the cards. His salvation. Why?
I grabbed my purse, taking a deep breath before opening the door.
“What am I supposed to tell Amber and Carolyn?”
“Just tell them I had to return home.”
“Where is home, I mean really?”
“Chicago. Thank you, Jazzy. You’re my best friend. Keep yourself safe.” Chicago, a place I never wanted to see again. As I stepped out of her car, every ominous feeling I’d had before returned in full force. I was sick of being used by men who couldn’t care less about anything but money and power.
I scurried along the back of the building, pressing the keycode and taking a deep breath. At least Cruz wouldn’t be able to get into the building easily. I had to do this quickly. Then I’d wait until dark before leaving town. To hell with the gallery. That’s where Cruz would go after he didn’t find me at the apartment. I had to ditch the car, but not until I got out of town.
As I raced up the stairs, I continued to listen for any sounds. There was nothing unusual.
Until I got to the door. The package wasn’t unlike something I’d order online, except that it was wrapped in plain brown paper. I stared down at it. Only my name and address were listed. A courier had delivered it.
Just like at the gallery.
Just like the roses.
I took a deep breath, glancing over my shoulder before crouching down. There was no ticking sound and my instinct told me this wasn’t a bomb but another warning. I gingerly lifted the box from the floor, surprised there was no real weight to it, but I held the package steady as I rose to my feet, fumbling with my keys until I was able to get inside. While the lock wouldn’t do me any good if Cruz wanted inside, I felt better just knowing it was in place.
After placing the gift on the kitchen table, I stared at it for at least a full minute before finding the courage to open it.
As soon as I lifted the lid, the slight stench of copper forced me to place my hand over my mouth. I peeled away the fucking pink tissue paper and backed away, trying to keep from screaming. The shirt Talon had been wearing at the event was neatly folded inside. Only it was covered in blood. Lots of blood, only some of it dried.
No. This couldn’t be happening. Had Cruz killed him, knowing I would return here? That was crazy. He wouldn’t do anything like that. Would he? Oh, God. I pushed the box away and rushed to the computer. Maybe he’d sent me an email.
My fingers were barely able to function, but I pulled up my account. An email from Talon had arrived at ten-thirty the night before. When I clicked it open, I couldn’t stop shaking.
Meet me at the gallery tomorrow night around eight. I need your help. I also need to tell you something you’re going to want to hear.
Was it possible that Talon was still alive? I looked over at the box and shuddered. Someone else was playing a vicious game.
As visions of the horrible night came crashing in on me, I realized that whoever had killed my parents wanted to finish what they’d started.
CHAPTER17
