Page 19 of Letting Go

We already got all this from Finn, who had us return with a message: "We strongly suggest you move the last session from the roof to a safer location."

His face darkens. "I can't. The whole seminar is about unlocking and freeing yourself. There's a part where we make paper cranes and let balloons go. Then they each have to walk, you know…" Raymond shakes his head.

"Coals?" I knew it.

"Yes. I can’t let one idiot ruin the experience for all these people. "But I'll consider it," he says after seeing my face.

I give him an encrypted telephone number to route to my cell before I go, explaining Jackson will be right next door and is his only neighbor—it's why we booked a corner executive suite.

As I leave, Raymond pauses and adds, "Thank you again, I feel in extraordinarily good hands." His phone pings. It's an email or a text. Either way, he pales slightly, his face impassive as he reads. Then he looks up at Jackson and hands his phone over.

Jackson sighs and reads: "You are the reason the wayward will never find what they are looking for. Keep looking over your shoulder, false prophet. You are going to die, stinking in your own putrid waste."

Raymond rubs his hands together, I'm guessing, to stop them from clamming up.

"And you are certain it's from this Everlast group?" asks Jackson setting the phone on the table. He takes a picture of the email.

Raymond shrugs. "I don't know if this one is. The others were."

Finn had confided earlier there are over fifty threats, each building on the one before. Things are escalating. Not good.

Even so, there's something in the way Raymond wouldn’t meet my eyes that tells me there's more there.

"And you have no idea who it is?" This is from me.

He shakes his head and looks me right in the eye, an obvious sign someone's lying. "Absolutely no idea."

So, it was someone he knew.

I pull Jackson to the end of the hall before he leaves to grab some food. I'll relieve him until eight this evening, then I'll drive back up to the Inn. But first, I have to give Jackson a head up.

"He knows the guy. Or at least has some idea of who it might be. Watch him. Keep tabs on any open computer and pay attention to phone calls."

Jackson nods.

"And stay out of trouble. He's not telling everything, so don't go taking a bullet for this guy."

Jackson grins. "Can I quote you on that? The part about the bullet?"

"Hell no."

"Bad for business?"

"Hell yeah."

I pull up to The Inn around nine, turn the engine off, and am surprised to see the four women sitting on the front deck sipping beers. The way The Inn faces, we get to see both the sunrise and sun and the twilight is pale. I slap a mosquito away and climb the stairs. The Russo sisters are an indomitable force and they're all hot. Finn would kill me for saying it, but they are. Claire's the only blonde, smart, strong and totally gave her heart to Finn and right now she's sitting in the crook of his arm. Next to them on the wicker sofa is Devon, almost as mysterious as Chloe, her hair just as dark except where Chloe's got these curly ringlets, Devon's is a sheet of glossy black. Then there's Laurel, sitting in the loveseat, rounder than her sisters with her hair a wavy tumble. How her son, Cory, ended up a towhead I have no idea. Some latent genes that gave Claire her head of hair also found its way to Cory.

Right now though, something is wrong. They are all way too quiet, even Cory. Cory's tucked up next to his mom so I make like I'm going to sit down.

On him.

"You're too heavy," he says, and I can feel his little hands pushing against my legs.

"Hey," he says louder and there's a quiver of hysteria underlying his cry.

I'm quick to rise. "Sorry," I say to both of them.

"He's just teasing sweetie," Laurel says, stroking Cory's forehead.