Page 299 of The Black Trilogy

I rolled out of bed, groaning as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Shoes. I needed shoes. One of my favourite Converse had a hole in it, but they were comfortable so I didn’t care.

The guardhouse lay three hundred yards from the main house, and a swarthy-looking man hovered outside it next to a black Mercedes, top of the range. He stood about six feet four, and his black outfit matched his neck tattoo nicely. Not exactly your usual courier, and a complete contrast with the package he held out to me, which was wrapped in pink paper and adorned with bows and ribbons.

He grinned, well, sort of. On him it was more of a grimace, and sunlight glinted off a gold tooth.

“Boss said I had to give this directly to you.”

I held out one hand. He placed the box in it then got into the car and drove off without another word.

Seth raised an eyebrow.

“Just a birthday gift from an old friend.”

He nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a dude who looked like he’d escaped from prison to turn up with a froufrou little parcel for me. Mind you, after some of the things Bradley had brought through those gates, I suppose nothing surprised him anymore.

Back in my bedroom, I unwrapped the box. Inside, a stunning necklace lay nestled in plum velvet, platinum, an infinity symbol that glittered under the ceiling lights. One half was studded with white diamonds, the other with black. Stunning, unique, and no doubt expensive.

The card that accompanied it came in a pink envelope, and I slid it out. Nothing special, a cake with candles and Happy Birthday written above. A note fluttered to the floor when I opened it.

Dearest Angel,

I hope your heart is starting to heal after your loss. Somebody once told me that time was a great healer, and although when she said it I didn’t believe her, over the years I found it to be true. I hope you are able to find your closure as I found mine. If there is any assistance I can offer, I will always be here.

E

No sooner had I finished reading when Seth called again. “Emmy, some guy’s arrived with a car, and he says it’s for you. You didn’t mention anything about a delivery?”

“Nope, I haven’t ordered a car. What kind is it?”

“Uh, it’s in a truck. Hang on.” Voices mumbled in the background. “A Corvette, apparently. A Stingray.”

“Sorry, I still didn’t order it. Kind of wish I had, though.”

After more muffled chatter Seth came back. “The delivery guy insists it’s for you.”

“Can I speak to him?”

“Sure.”

After some fumbling, the phone was handed over.

“I understand you have a car you’re trying to deliver,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s what I keep trying to tell these clowns. The paperwork specifically says it needs to be delivered today, to Emerson Black, at this address, at twelve thirty in the afternoon. The guy even paid extra for that.”

“What guy?”

“Says Charles Black on the paperwork. Address just down the road.”

“When was it ordered?”

I heard rustling as he checked. “Last October. Right after the new model was announced.”

Oh my gosh. Black had bought me a car. A heaviness settled in my chest as I recalled sitting in our office a month before he died, sipping coffee while watching an internet clip of the latest upgraded Corvette. I’d jokingly said I’d have a black one with a dark purple leather interior. And because Black was Black and he didn’t mess around, I bet he’d called to order it the moment I’d stepped out of the room.

“What colour is it?”

“Black.”

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