Page 57 of Provoke You

“That’s a tall order.”

“Right? What’s the freaking rush?”

“So what? He’s in charge forever?”

“No. I’m supposed to take over when I’m twenty-five, which honestly, I don’t feel ready for. I’ve been excluded from all of it for so long. I don’t think I can do it. Dad’s got it taken care of. All I ask is that he doesn't mess with my hotel.”

I took her hand in mine over the car console. “What do they say? Until you’ve tried something a hundred times, how do you know you can’t do it? Hmm?”

She laughed. “That sounds like something Old Ben would say.”

I’d studied Ben’s file. He was a brilliant lawyer and a devoted family friend, around seventy years old. His pictures showed him to be in good health, and he had a decent-guy thing about him. But I knew better than to judge people by their pictures—that one moment in time.

I parked the car a block away from the cemetery. On our walk to the front entrance, Ela slipped her hand into mine. I glanced down on it and smiled. This thing with her felt good, natural. Ela stopped to chitchat with the lady working the ticketing table. Maybe Ben had been right in choosing a graveyard as the meeting place. Everyone here knew Ela and didn’t think it odd that she would visit.

“Have a good visit.” The lady waved us in when Ela flashed an owners’ card.

“Thank you.” Ela pulled me toward her and ushered me to her family’s crypt several rows in.

The farther we went in, the more intense the sunrays beating on our backs became. Between the heat and the lack of breeze inside the maze of aboveground vaults, the air had a suffocating quality to it.

“What do you think?” She walked up to a white tomb that looked like a dollhouse with white walls, an ornate marble door with LeBlanc engraved on it, and a wrought-iron fence.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Look at these.” She pointed at the marble plaque on the side of the structure with a list of names and dates engraved on it. The dates matched the ones on the sticky note Ben left for us. “This is the place. I can’t believe we figured it out.”

“I know.” I ran my index finger on the warm stone, feeling the grooves of the engraved dates.

“What do we do? Come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Let’s come back in the morning when it’s not so freaking hot.”

“It’ll be better, but not by much. These tombs are literally ovens. They radiate heat even at night.”

“I believe you.” I met her gaze, then froze.

“What is it?”

“I think I saw someone.” It was for a split second, but I was sure, we were being watched.

“The cemetery is very safe.”

“Stay here. I have to go see.” I followed the path toward the northwest end of the graveyard.

My heart drummed hard against my chest. Could it be that being surrounded by dead people had me seeing ghosts? I kept going until I reached the wall where there were no aboveground vaults and I could see from one end of the cemetery to the other. No one was following me. Up on the wall, Kitt showed his face. He put up two fingers and signaled for me to get going.

I darted across the grass area toward the second row of tombs, and then I saw her. She wasn’t a ghost. Rebecca Smith was really here. The moment she saw me, she took off running. With long strides, I caught up to her before she reached the end of the row where a group of tourists stood enthralled by their tour guide’s monologue on the cemetery’s history.

She struggled against my grip when I pulled her toward me and took her to an area where we wouldn’t be seen. “Why are you following me? Why are you here?”

“I wasn’t. I mean I was.” Her cheeks were bright red. She stared at me with big eyes, as if she were terrified of me.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” I said to calm her down. “Just answer the question. Why are you here?”

“Matt, they found me. I had to run. I had no choice. And now I have nowhere to go.” Her eyes filled with tears, but I knew better to believe her.

“How did you find me?”

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