Page 137 of Dark Love

Every time I set foot onto Willow Street, I expect it to be the same as it was all those years ago when I was hired to protect a bunch of street kids. The street kids are still finding this place, but it isn’t a rundown hovel. It could double for a posh neighborhood where snooty people drink fifty-dollar glasses of wine. Only the adults walking down the sidewalk with their fancy clothes and kids in strollers were once street kids.

They are the ones who helped three women who refused to believe in the word impossible transform this place.

My favorite addition to Willow Street was added by the woman who gave me what little humanity that I manage to pretend to have. Louisella Belladonna Wright never gave up on me, no matter how rude I was to her or how many bodies I put in the ground through the years.

Though she only knows about a trifling few.

If there was ever a scent that could be bottled to bring people comfort, it’s the scent of a library. Secret journeys, impossible adventures, and all the knowledge the world holds can be imagined simply by smelling an old book.

Louisella filled this space with books of every kind. And she’s added more since the last time I visited.

In the past when I’d visit, I’d hope to see her if only for a brief moment. Today, I hope she isn’t here, because that woman doesn’t know how to mind her own business. There’s no way I’m answering any questions about Dahlia. Or worse, bringing her over for dinner and an interrogation.

Thankfully, she doesn’t appear to be in the library today.

Dyce will be in one of the back quiet rooms that are meant for study groups and small training sessions. They’re private and soundproof. The perfect spot for a clandestine meeting.

And there’s Dyce right on time.

“Vex.”

She steps into the room, and I close the door behind us.

“Dyce. To what do I owe the pleasure of this weekend excursion?” Dyce Locke is a piranha even without her power suit and the briefcase she normally carries around like a warrior. In the courthouse, she fights to win for her clients, no matter what it takes.

There’s no need to ask if she’s safe here. Even a fool wouldn’t step onto Willow Street with ill intent.

“My client’s husband followed me home.”

And? She’s had dozens of violent men who stepped past reason and needed to be taught a lesson, some even permanently. None of those required a visit from me.

“All his previous girlfriends disappear after they break up.”

Two serial killers in a month, sadly, won’t be a record for me. “And Maddox can’t handle that?”

“There aren’t any bodies.”

So he’s smart?

“Also, he tells everyone that he received a large inheritance from his grandfather, but his grandfather was completely broke when he died. There haven’t been any large deposits. This guy’s accounts are perfectly middle-class. But he spends cash like it’s water.”

Missing women and large infusions of cash go way beyond Maddox’s scope. He needs to play nice to protect Willow Street.

“This guy is trafficking women. I know it in my bones.”

Dyce is rarely wrong, and it’s doubtful she is this time. “Do I need to provide your client with a safe space until the problem is resolved?”

“No. Maddox moved her into a safe location.”

A.k.a. with one of his men. That’s one less worry for me. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

She holds out a file folder like it was a given that I’d take this on.

Irksome woman. She just ruined my weekend with Dahlia. “Give Maddox my regards.” I step out of the room. There’s no point in wasting time with small talk.

“Vex. I heard you were in my library.”

“Mrs. Wright.” Just the person I wanted to avoid. But you don’t avoid Louisella Belladonna Wright. She hasn’t changed much over the years, even though her hair’s gotten to be more salt than pepper. Wisdom has etched itself across her face, but age hasn’t dimmed her eyes. I’m in for an interrogation.

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