Page 20 of The Trap

“Lived? As in she moved or…”

Maddox cuts me off. “Lived as in past tense. I confirmed with Alex and the owner of the car Sally has been using, was single with a house in Larchmont and died of a heart attack.”

Fuck.

“Sorry man,” Maddox adds, but the disappointment, the anger, all of it, every damn emotion I could possibly feel in this moment, floods me.

“It’s fine,” I grit out through a tense jaw.

“I’ll let you know if I find out anything else,” he says before saying goodbye, but my attention is already drifting off to another place. Wondering who she is and why she lied.

Good evening, Channel 7 News.

Reports have come in of a green Honda CRV that was found at the bottom of Finkel’s Pond. No one was recovered from the vehicle, and it appears the license plate, as well as all identification sources, were destroyed. If you have any possible information that can identify who the vehicle belongs to, please call the number on the screen.

And in other news. Local real estate mogul and philanthropist Alistair Cromwell, who was indicted last spring for multiple counts of money laundering and fraud, was found dead earlier this evening in his cell in Otisville Correctional Facility in an apparent suicide but authorities are conducting an investigation.

TEN

Me: The flash drives are gone.

Boss: …

Me: Got the necklace though

Boss: That’ll do…bring it to me.

ELEVEN

ONE MONTH LATER

“Raiden, I’m heading out!” Delilah shouts, her voice carrying all the way from the other side of the house even with “You Wanna Get Me High” by The Donnas blasting on my phone’s speakers. I lower the volume a few notches so I can respond.

“Okay,” I yell back while I finish pouring my nightly heaping glass of Malbec. Taking a quick but generous gulp of wine, I swish the boozy fermented nectar in my mouth as Delilah’s footsteps overhead become louder. “Wait up,” I shout, already topping off my glass to replenish it. I place it back on the countertop before running to catch up with D before she heads out.

Ever since the assignment ended at the Cromwell’s I decided Carmine was right, that I need to be out of the city, so I’ve continued staying with Delilah in Sleepy Hollow until I get my own place. Our mothers have been friends since they were children, so Delilah is more like a sister to me than a friend, which comes with its fair share of her trying to get in my business, but she’s letting me live here rent free and she only does it with love, so it’s fine.

I scurry past the back hall that leads to my room and the spare bathroom, all the way to the front of the house, barricading the front door so I can talk to Delilah before she heads to work.

The clacking of heels intensifies, forcing me to peer up at the staircase. In front of Delilah’s long cerulean blue waves that cascade past her collarbone, is her best friend Blair, leading the way down the steps.

“Hey Blair,” I say, moving from the door. She moves down the steps faster, reaching out and pulling me in for a hug. The chokehold of her embrace has her harness scratching at my torso. After squeezing me for what feels like an eternity, she presses her black painted lips on my cheek for a kiss.

“Hey Raiden, looking good.” She winks as she releases me from her bear hug.

“Thanks. You two off to work?” I ask. Both Delilah and Blair strip at Satan’s Stiletto and judging from Blair’s signature harness she’s wearing like she always does when she dances, that’s where they’re headed.

“You know it,” Blair responds sticking her tongue out. Her back arches and her ass pokes out as she begins to twerk.

I laugh at Blair’s dramatic antics, but I can’t help to notice the way Delilah is staring at me wearing her usual stern expression. Blair’s twerking ceases as she stands up right, moving closer to D, reaching for her hand interlacing it in hers, but it does little to relieve the agitated look that has overtaken her face. “Ready, baby girl?” she grins, squeezing D’s hand.

D nods and just as they’re about to head to the door, Blair suddenly shakes her head in exasperation. “Son of a bitch,” Blair exclaims, as her phone buzzes. Delilah and I exchange a confused look before turning our attention to Blair swiping feverishly at her phone. “Men,” she scoffs, her thumbs flying at her phone’s touchscreen with excessive speed. “I swear theycan be so much work. Excuse me.” She mumbles something else under her breath, switching the phone from her hand to her ear, going right into yelling at whoever had the apparent audacity of contacting her.

Now alone, D and I exchange a quick chuckle at her best friend’s typical erratic nature.

“I went to Oogie’s for another session on my back piece,” Delilah randomly announces, pausing as if she’s waiting for me to piece something together.

“Cool, how did it turn out?”

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