Page 21 of Ravaged With You

“There—there was a man…”

I’m mortified to realize my throat is thick with tears, some of which are now streaming down my cheeks. I pull one hand free and wipe my eyes. “I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place.”

“Of course they are.” His voice is as soft as a caress. “It’s okay, Jo. Whoever was here is gone now.”

I shiver. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“I think I do. Part of it, anyway. I’ll tell you everything. But I need you to go first. Can you do that for me?”

His voice is soft but steady, as if he’s explaining something important to a child. The tone irritates me—not because he’s talking down to me, but because I’m actually melting down.

Get it together, girl.

“Yes,” I say firmly. “I can do that.” I draw a deep breath, then begin. “I have no idea why, but some guy jumped me when I was letting Rambo in.” I pull my hands free from Red’s, needing to hug myself. “I—I didn’t see much. He was all in black.”

“He?”

I nod. “I think so. At least that’s what his voice sounded like. I’d be surprised if it was a woman.”

“So he talked to you, what did he say?”

“It was about Mel—something about Mel having something. He said, ‘Where are they,’ and then he said he wanted the package Mel took.”

As I speak, a horrible thought comes to me, and I’m about to share it with Red. But he speaks first.

“They? You’re sure he said they?”

I think back, then nod, chills creeping up my spine. “Yes, yes. I’m sure. But Red,” I say, hurrying on. “I just realized — I mean, what if it wasn’t suicide? Maybe somebody murdered Mel to get this thing.”

Red looks at me for so long, I begin to think I’d tossed out the most ridiculous theory ever. Then his face seems to crumple, and I see tears in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice thick. “They murdered him, but he never told them where it is. The murder must have been a mistake,” he adds, his voice soft, as if he’s working through something. “Kill him, the thing is lost. Unless you or I know where it is.”

He’s looking at me now, but I can only shake my head, completely confused. “You’re saying you think I’m right? Then we should call the police. They need—”

“No.” He grabs my wrist, preventing me from reaching for my phone.

I try to tug my hand back, but he holds on tight. “Red, you’re scaring me.”

“You can’t tell the cops it was murder.”

“Why?” My head is spinning, and I’m not sure if it’s because this entire conversation is confusing or if I’m overwhelmed by the events of the day.

“Because the killers told me not to.”

“They attacked you?”

“No—well, yes. But this was before that. They made it clear that the cops need to keep believing this was suicide.”

“Oh.” I swallow as that settles in. “Oh,” I repeat, then hug myself as icy fear cuts through me. “I think you need to start at the beginning.”

He does, telling me how Mel asked to meet him, but didn’t show up. At least, that was what Red believed until he found my husband’s body in the mash.

“And they called you?”

“Yes. But on Mel’s phone. And they showed me—”

He stops, as if he isn’t sure he should continue.