Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
But who could have bought this for me? Dad, probably. He’s really proud of how all of this turned out.
I take the box from her and open it. I gasp. “It’s gorgeous!” It’s a pendant in the shape of a bird covered in black crystals with a small sapphire for its eye. It’s large, about two inches in diameter, and suspended from a link chain. I turn the pendant over—
And I gulp, nearly losing my footing.
It’s engraved on the back.
Even the raven can’t fly forever. Sooner or later, it comes home to die.
24
VINNIE
He’s here.
I feel his presence.
I just have to ferret him out.
Someone is here for Raven. Is her life in danger? I doubt it. But her freedom is.
If she’s dead, she can’t be used as a chip to bargain with. And someone here wants to bargain with me.
Or with Mario.
Perhaps even with McAllister.
And that person is here.
Evil is something that can be smelled. When you’ve been around it your whole life, you learn to recognize it, even if it’s not physically present. It slinks like a shadow, weaving in and out of consciousness. You can smell its foul odor, like something rotting beneath the floorboards of an abandoned house.
I move through the crowd, scanning faces, studying body language, listening to whispered conversations. I catch a whiff of that stench. The scent isn’t strong enough to pinpoint the source, but I know he’s close.
Luckily, I have Raven’s seating chart. I make my way to the table where Jack Smith is assigned. There are three middle-aged women dressed lavishly sitting at the table, but that’s it.
“Pardon me, ladies,” I say. “Was there a gentleman seated with you this evening? A Mr. Smith? I’ve found one half of a pair of monogrammed cufflinks that I believe belong to him, but I don’t know what he looks like.”
The lady in the center, wearing a mink stole over a light-green gown, shoots me a smile. “Goodness, we certainly are getting our fill of handsome gentlemen tonight, aren’t we girls?”
The other two ladies giggle.
“You’re very kind,” I say, “but I am serious about the cufflinks. They look very expensive. I’m sure Mr. Smith would hate to be missing one of them.”
The woman on the right, wearing purple and a diamond necklace, runs her hand through her platinum blond hair. “Are you talking about Jackie?”
I press my lips together. “Jack Smith? Possibly.”
“Yes, he was here,” the woman on the left—this one in crimson and wearing an enormous star-shaped sapphire brooch—responds. “Gladys, Henrietta, and I were so happy to have him at our table. Very handsome, very tall, very charming.”
The woman in green—Gladys, possibly—takes a sip of champagne. “Prudence here might have just found her fourth husband.”
All three of them erupt into laughter.
God, they’re drunk.
“Was he wearing anything special?” I ask. “Most of the men here are in tuxes, but if he had a colorful bow tie or something…”
“No special bow tie.” Henrietta wrinkles her nose. “And what a nice change of pace to see a man in traditional black tie. These days you have all these wacky fashions—”
“But he did have that lovely pocket square, Henny,” Prudence retorts.
There’s my in. “What did the pocket square look like?”
Gladys bites her lip. “Black and white. A… Oh, what do you call it? A dogleg pattern?”
“Houndstooth,” Henrietta says.
“That’s it,” Gladys says. “Houndstooth.”
“Thank you,” I say. “That should help narrow him down. How long ago did he leave the table?”
“Not long ago.” Prudence checks her slim Rolex. “Maybe ten minutes ago. He was headed to the dance floor, I believe.”
“He invited us, of course.” Gladys fans herself. “But these old knees have danced their last polka.”
The three of them start cackling again.
“What about his hair? Was it dark, blond, gray?”
“Not a gray hair to be seen, darling,” Prudence says. “Very dark hair. Couldn’t be more than thirty-five.”
“Thank you, ladies. Have a pleasant evening.”
I give them a wink, and that of course sends them into another fit of laughter.
I head to the dance floor. People are moving and grooving to the beats of some disco song. I keep my eyes peeled. Finally I catch a fleeting glimpse of a man on the corner of the dance floor. He’s tall, dark. Handsome in a dangerous sort of way. His eyes meet mine across the room.
Sure enough, his pocket square matches the ladies’ description. I’ve found Jack Smith. My target for the evening.
A chill runs through me as a wicked grin spreads across his face. He knows that I know.
Is that him? Is he the threat to Raven?
He disappears into the crowd before I can get a better look at him. But I’ve seen enough. Something about him raises the hairs on the back of my neck. An animal instinct that warns me of imminent danger.
I push through the crowd, trying to follow his trail, but the sea of bodies surges around me and I lose him. I lean against a wall, scanning the room once more. Then I see him again, standing on the fringes of a group, watching me. He lifts his glass in a mocking toast and then turns away.