The Beautiful and the Damned (16 page)

BOOK: The Beautiful and the Damned
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I’ll go get something to eat at the diner. Marv will spot me a meal.

There were a handful of cars in the diner parking lot when she pulled in, but she
didn’t see Marv’s beat-up blue pickup truck in its familiar spot. Lenny’s vintage
Camaro was there, though. She glanced through the front windows to see if Declan was
inside, but couldn’t see the table in the back where he liked to sit.

Go in through the kitchen. Even if he’s there, you should be able to avoid him.

Cyn went in and found Lenny bent over the disposal in the sink. “Is it stopped up
again?” she asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Another damn spoon.” His arm was buried up to his elbow, but he gave a grunt and
then grinned. “Got it!”

Tossing the mangled piece of silverware into the box by the back door, he shook his
head. “Don’t know why Marv insists on using nice silverware. The customers aren’t
coming for his place settings. He could use plastic forks for all they’d care. So,
where the hell have you been?”

“Sick.” Cyn shrugged and moved to the griddle. Pancakes were ordered so often that
they kept a jug of premixed batter next to it, ready to go at all times. The griddle
sizzled and spit as she poured several dime-size pancakes.

Lenny washed his hands. “Does this mean you’re feeling
better? Dougie Ray’s been covering your shift, and he ain’t happy about it. Marv’s
not happy about it either.”

“Not sure yet.” Cyn flipped the pancakes onto a plate and took a seat at the small
table. She was so hungry she was done with her meal in three minutes flat. Gathering
the dirty dishes, she deposited them in the sink and impulsively gave Lenny a kiss
on the cheek. “Don’t say anything to Marv about me being here, okay, Lenny?”

“Okay, but if you don’t hightail it out of here, he’s gonna find out anyway.” Lenny
gestured to the open back door. “He’s parking right now.”

“I’ll go out the front.” Cyn gave him a salute and a grin. “And remember, I was never
here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Lenny muttered, returning to the griddle. “I heard you the first time.”
But he returned her grin.

Cyn was so busy watching for Marv that as she made her way out onto the floor she
forgot to look at the customers.

They got a good look at her, though. Or, at least, one of them did.

She froze in place when she heard Declan’s voice.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Cyn Hargrave. I’ve been looking for you.”

~  ~  ~

As soon as the blood started flowing to her legs again, Cyn kept moving. Features
composed, she ignored Declan and went straight for the door.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said.

She brushed him off like it was nothing more than an unwanted advance. “Sorry, buddy.
Not interested.”

He followed her onto the street, and she glanced around, desperately looking for an
escape. She knew he wasn’t going to stop following her.

An alleyway a couple of feet away offered her an option, and Cyn ducked into it. A
jagged-edged broken brick on the ground caught her eye, and she grabbed it, hiding
it in the folds of her jacket.

Declan followed closely behind, and she turned to face him. “I found your little calling
card. Stealing is a crime, though. You of all people should know that.”

“So is murder. I know you had something to do with Hunter’s death.”

Cyn chose her words carefully. “Why would you think that, Declan? I loved Hunter.”

“Then why did you gut him in his
sleep
?” He took a step toward her. “His belly was slit open, and his insides were draped
across the bed. There was so much blood that some of the first
responders on the scene are still torn up over it. Called it one of the worst crime
scenes they’ve ever seen.”

Cyn’s throat closed up at the memory of all that blood. She couldn’t breathe.

Declan took another step toward her. “If you loved him, why did you just leave him
there to die? Why, Cyn? Why did you do it?”

“I . . .” She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t get words out past the lump in her throat.

“I couldn’t even be there. Do you know that?” Declan tugged on the ends of his hair
with both hands, running his fingers wildly through it. “I couldn’t go to the funeral.
I was sent away so I wouldn’t compromise the case.”

With every word, he took another step closer to Cyn. His words were like a hammer,
beating her down with every syllable.

He was right—she
did
kill his brother. She was the monster she said he was.

Suddenly, Declan lunged at her and shoved her up against the side of the brick building
beside her. Placing his forearm against her throat, he pinned her into place.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now,” he said roughly. “Tell me why I should
spare the person who murdered my little brother. The person he said he loved.”

He spat the word “love” like it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Cyn just closed her eyes.
Let it be quick. And even though I don’t deserve it, please, God, let it be painless.

“Hey!” someone shouted. “What are you doing? Let go of her!”

Cyn’s eyes flew open, and she saw a burly guy running toward them. “Let her go!” he
shouted again.

“This isn’t over,” Declan hissed into her ear.

He dropped his arm and took several steps back. His voice was filled with rage and
his hands shook. “I’m going to find you again. And when I do? I’m going to kill you.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

T
he guy gave chase to Declan but couldn’t keep up, so he finally returned to Cyn. “Are
you okay? I’m gonna call the cops.”

“No! Don’t! I mean, that’s okay. I’m okay.” Cyn thought fast. “That was just an ex-boyfriend.
He found out I was dating his . . . roommate. And he wasn’t happy about it.”

She gave him a wry grin.

“Yeah, well, ex-boyfriend or not, that dude is messed up. He shouldn’t be treating
you like that. You should still call the cops. Get a restraining order. This one time,
my sister—”

Cyn put up a hand and shook her head. “I won’t be seeing him again. It’ll be fine.”

He looked doubtful, so she tried another tactic. “Hey, haven’t I seen you before,
at the Black Cadillac?” She had no idea if he went to the bar or not but figured by
the looks of him that it was a safe-enough bet. “You know Cash, right?”

“Yeah, I know Cash. We ride together sometimes.”

“Could you take me there?”

“I’m not sure if the bar is open—”

Cyn turned on the charm and smiled up at him. “It’s open.”

But the lights were out, and the door was locked when they got to the bar. Cyn’s would-be
savior gave her a doubtful look. “I don’t think—”

“Cash!” Cyn banged on the door. “Open up!”

A light flipped on inside. A second later, the bolt slid free from the other side
of the door, and then Cash appeared. “Hey, man.” He greeted the biker and they bumped
fists.

“Do you know her?” The biker asked, turning to Cyn. “Says she knows you.”

From the other night,
Cyn willed him to remember.
I was with Thirteen.

Cash gave her a hard look but then nodded. “Yeah. I know her.”

“Some guy was messing with her in the alley. I ran him off,
but she said she didn’t want to go to the cops. Wanted to come see you instead.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got this. Thanks for bringing her here.” Cash stood to the side and
gestured for Cyn to come in.

“Thanks for stopping,” Cyn said to the biker, who turned to leave. “You’re a real
sweetheart.”

“Anytime, darlin’. Now, you rethink that whole calling-the-cops thing, okay?”

Cyn faked a smile and nodded. Cash nodded too and then shut the door. “Want to tell
me what
that
was all about?”

“I’m fine. He just got his facts mixed up.”

Cash held up both hands. “Your business, not mine.”

Cyn glanced over at the bar. “I know it’s early, but how about a drink? I could use
one.”

“Anything you want. It’s on the house.”

She turned back to say thanks, but he already had his cell phone to his ear. “Thirteen?
It’s Cash. Look, I got your girl here at the bar. You need to get down here.” He paused
and then said, “The, uh . . . you know, the
one
.”

“Cyn,” she yelled. “My name is Cyn. And I can’t
believe
you fucking called him.”

She went to the counter and picked out a full bottle of Jack.
If he was going to rat her out, then he sure as shit was going to pay for it with
some free booze.

“Yeah, no problem,” Cash said, still on the phone. “We’ll be here.”

He hung up and wisely stayed on the other side of the room until Thirteen showed.
Cyn was halfway through the bottle when he got there. He had a scowl on his face,
and the door slammed shut behind him.

“I didn’t have anything to do with him calling you,” Cyn said, gesturing to Cash.
“So you can stop giving me that I-just-fucked-up-your-day look. I have Father Montgomery’s
car. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not driving.”

“Then I’ll walk.”

“You’re not walking, either. Which means we can stay here until you’ve sobered up,
or you can get on my bike and let me take you home. But if we stay? You won’t be doing
any more drinking.” He turned to Cash. “Did you have to give her whiskey?”

Cash shook his head. “Sure. Blame the bartender.”

“Damn right I will.” Avian turned back to Cyn. “I’ve made an executive decision. You’re
coming with me. I can’t trust you around him.”

Cyn scowled. “Fine. Whatever.”

Across the room she could see Cash’s smirk as he watched their exchange. She pointed
at him. “I’m not going to forget about this, you rat bastard. You owe me a couple
more rounds for calling
him
, and you better believe I’ll be back to collect.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-E
IGHT

B
y the time they made it back to the rectory, cars were starting to fill the church
parking lot.

“Shit,” Thirteen said. “I forgot about Father Montgomery’s funeral.”

They went inside the house, and she kept an eye on the church from an upstairs window.
She wanted to pay her respects to the priest, but she didn’t know what faces she might
see at the service. Hampton Falls was a small town.

As the service stretched into the early evening hours, Cyn finally slipped out of
the house and went over to the church. One of the double doors was open, and she entered
as quietly as she could.

The sanctuary was overflowing with flowers. Dozens and dozens of them. The scent should
have been overpowering—roses, carnations, mums, and lilies all competing against each
other—but it wasn’t.

A priest at the head of the church was leading the congregation through a prayer service,
Vespers, if her limited memory of Sunday school when she was younger served her correctly,
and Cyn bowed her head, following along as best she could.

When the prayer ended and the congregation stood, Cyn knew it was time for her to
leave. As much as she wanted to tell Father Montgomery one last time how much his
kindness truly meant to her, she couldn’t stay.

It was time to run again.

Hastily making her exit, Cyn went back to the rectory to grab her plants and her suitcase.
She was going to take Father Montgomery’s car and worry about getting more money along
the way. If she had to use her mind mojo to do it, then so be it.

But she didn’t make it out before the church emptied and several nuns descended upon
the house. They headed straight for the kitchen. She could hear them talking and clinking
dishes, and then the smell of food started spreading.

Cyn gave it a couple of minutes and then headed back
upstairs to the attic. She would wait them out there. Leave once everyone was gone.
It was only a minor holdup.

And if she got lucky, there might even be leftovers in the fridge to take on the road
with her as a snack.

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