Web of Lies (Page 19)

Finn and I hadn’t found Violet Fox during our search of the student center. It had lots of little cubbyholes for students to hide and study in. Or Violet and whomever she’d been with might have decided to study in the library or a computer lab or even someone’s dorm room. Too many possibilities and no way to narrow them down. So we’d come to the one place Violet Fox had to show up sooner or later – the parking lot.

"Trust me," I said. "She’ll come back and get her car. Nobody in their right mind would leave their wheels here overnight."

"I can’t imagine why," Finn muttered and shifted in his seat.

I stared out the window. Ashland Community College was located in the downtown district, a small circle of knowledge hidden among the glass-and-chrome corporate buildings that passed for skyscrapers in the city.

Even though the college took up a couple of city blocks, the various halls and buildings were more or less grouped together and connected by a series of grassy quads. But space was at a premium in the downtown area, and the lots that surrounded the college had been developed long ago. All of which meant there was no student parking anywhere on campus. Instead, those who commuted every day had to leave their vehicles in a variety of lots and garages on the outskirts of downtown, then hike or bike their way over to the campus.

The parking lot we were in was the farthest one from the campus quads and located just below the Southtown border. A single light flickered overhead, painting the cars below a ghostly silver. Four-foot-high concrete barriers ringed most of the area, warning the drivers away from various potholes in the cracked asphalt. Spray-painted gang symbol runes, including clenched fists and crude outlines of guns and knives, dirtied the stone surfaces.

Crumpled fast-food wrappers, crushed-out cigarette butts, and limp, used condoms littered the ground.

According to the info Finn had compiled, Violet Fox drove an old, black Honda Accord. The midsize serviceable car sat in the center of the lot, dwarfed on one side by a truck on monster wheels covered in army green paint. A Confederate flag covered part of the truck’s back window, along with a gun rack. We sat several rows away, parked next to a Volkswagen bug with a red hood that didn’t match the rest of its white body.

"Any more charges on her credit card?" I asked.

Finn reached into the backseat and hit a button on his laptop. "Not since the last time you asked five minutes ago. How long are we going to wait? It’s almost six thirty."

"All the campus buildings except the library close at six," I said. "If she’s not at the library cramming, Violet Fox should be on her way here right now. We’ll give her a few more minutes. This lot is almost a mile from campus. It takes a good twenty minutes to get here from the student center, and that’s if you’re hoofing it fast."

Finn sighed and settled a little deeper into his seat. I rolled down the window. It was still drizzling, and the wet sheen of rain made the night seem colder and gloomier than it really was. Even in the Aston Martin’s plush confines, I could hear the vibrations of the concrete barriers and broken asphalt of the parking lot. Sharp, worrisome mutters that spoke of violence, blood, fear. This was a place where people got beaten, robbed, and mugged with alarming regularity, even for Ashland –

A figure passed through a gap in the concrete barriers.

A short, curvy woman with a mop of blond hair that had frizzed out to TBH – Tennessee Big Hair – proportions thanks to the drizzle. Violet Fox. She wore a heavy down jacket that didn’t do enough to shield her from the rain.

Her purse was looped over her chest and shoulder. She stepped underneath the flickering light, and a small metal canister glinted in her right hand. Pepper spray, unless I missed my guess. Smart, sensible precautions. This was a girl who was used to walking through here at night.

But she wasn’t alone. Another girl was with her. Blueblack hair, pale eyes, slim figure, designer jeans. I recognized her too.

"That’s Eva Grayson," I said.

Finn’s green eyes latched onto Eva. He smiled and sat up in his seat. "Really? Owen Grayson never told me what a looker his sister is."

"Then he knows you well enough to know not to do that," I replied.

As I watched, a man about my age followed the girls into the parking lot. His head swiveled right and left, and he stayed as close to Eva as her own shadow. His bulky windbreaker had ridden up, revealing a Glock tucked into the small of his back. Looked like Owen Grayson had gotten his sister that bodyguard after all.

Violet and Eva stopped in the middle of the lot and exchanged a few words. Violet said something that made Eva laugh. Then Violet waved her hand and started walking toward her aging Honda. Eva waved back. The man grabbed her elbow to escort her out of the parking lot, but Eva gave him a nasty glare and shook him off. The two of them turned, walked back through the gap in the concrete barrier, and disappeared from sight.

Since we’d already disabled the light in the front of the car, I opened the door of the Aston Martin and swung my legs outside.

"Well, she’s alone now." Finn reached for his own door handle, but I grabbed his arm.

"Wait," I said in a low voice. "Let’s see who else is around."

"You think the shooter is here?" he asked. "We would have seen him by now."

I shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on how good he is. He could have slipped in the other side of the lot. The point is he missed her at the Pork Pit and probably couldn’t get to her on campus today. Too many witnesses, too many security guards. This is his last shot at her before she goes home for the night."

"And you think he’s going to take it," Finn said.

"I would."

So we watched. Violet Fox was no fool. She approached her car cautiously. She looked right, then left, in front and behind her. She also stayed in the middle of the lot away from the sides of the parked cars. Making sure no one was sneaking up on her or was waiting underneath one of the vehicles to grab her ankles and pull her down. Smart girl.

But she wasn’t quite smart enough. Violet Fox reached into her purse, and her steps slowed as she fumbled for her keys. She didn’t immediately find them because she stopped, dropped her head, and peered into her bag.

And that’s when I saw a shadow slither out of the bed of the monster truck and head toward her.

"There he is," Finn said, scrambling to open his door.

"He was hiding in the truck bed the whole time."

I didn’t respond. I was already out of the car, running toward the girl.

Chapter Eight

Even as I started running, I saw the shadowy figure creep closer to Violet and take on the form of a short, stocky man. A dwarf. I was two hundred feet away. I wasn’t going to make it in time. I was going to be too late.