Page 15 of Forbidden Fruit

I pushed my way closer, ignoring the officers’ warnings to stay back. My eyes locked on the stretcher being wheeled out of the building, the body covered with a blood-soaked sheet. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All I could see was the blood, the crimson stain spreading across the white fabric.

And then a corner of the sheet fell back, and I saw his face. Burt’s face, pale and lifeless, the wound in his skull glaring at me like an accusation. I stumbled back, my legs giving out as I hit the pavement. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

But it was. Burt was dead. And now I knew for certain that Johnny’s death hadn’t been accidental. He’d been murdered, and now someone had just killed Burt too, minutes before I arrived.

I scrambled back to my car, my hands shaking so badly I could barely get the keys into the ignition. My mind was racing, trying to piece together what was happening, but nothing made sense. Who was behind this? Who would want Burt dead? And why?

Maxwell’s face flashed in my mind, the way he had looked at me this morning, so kind, so understanding. But what if it was all an act? What if he was behind all of this? My heart ached at the thought, but I couldn’t ignore the possibility. I had seen the photos, the armed men. Was he working with the cartels after all? Had Burt been right?

I pulled out my phone and texted Maxwell, my hands trembling as I typed out the message:

Something’s happened.

His response was almost immediate:

Where are you? Are you all right?

I stared at the screen, my mind racing. Could I trust him? Should I tell him where I was? But before I could decide, my phone rang. It was Maxwell.

I hesitated for a moment, then answered the call, my voice shaky. “Hello?”

“Raya, what’s going on? Are you okay?” His voice was filled with concern, and it made my heart twist.

“I’m…I’m fine,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Raya, listen to me,” Maxwell said, his voice firm. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

“No,” I blurted out, panic rising in my chest. “I don’t…I don’t want to see you right now.”

There was a pause, and I could hear the confusion in his voice when he spoke again. “I don’t understand. What’s happened?”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They spilled down my cheeks as I confessed everything, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “An FBI agent named Burt Stamford caught me trespassing on your property. I was picking raspberries for my cocktails, but I didn’t know…I didn’t know what I was getting into. He uncovered my past, used it to blackmail me into spying on you. I’m sorry, Maxwell. I didn’t see another way out.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and I held my breath, waiting for his response.

“I knew you were sneaking around,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “I just didn’t know who you were working for, or why. But I knew you were innocent, Raya. Someone was using you, and I was just waiting for you to trust me enough to tell me the truth, to allow me to help you.”

My heart ached at his words, and I could feel the guilt gnawing at me. “I’m so sorry, Maxwell. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

My voice cracked, and the tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. My mind was spinning, a chaotic whirl of fear, guilt, and confusion.

“Raya, listen to me,” Maxwell’s voice was firm but gentle, a steadying force in the storm raging inside me. “This doesn’t change anything between us. I told you before, I’m falling for you, and that hasn’t changed. But I need to know…what was Burt looking for? What did he want from you?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, shaking my head even though he couldn’t see me. “He never told me exactly what he was after. All I know is that is wanted information about your business.”

Maxwell was silent for a long moment. I could hear him breathing, could almost picture him running a hand through his dark hair, trying to piece together what this all meant.

I gulped, my hand trembling as I pressed the phone to my ear. “And now Burt is dead.”

“What?” he asked. “How? How do you know this?”

“I…I was going to see him…To tell him I wouldn’t let him use me anymore to do his dirty work. That I was done working for him and I didn’t care if he went to the press with my past or not. But I…I never got a chance. They’re saying it looks like a suicide, but I don’t believe it, not after Johnny’s death.”

“You think I was behind the killings, don’t you?” he asked, his tone unreadable.

The question hit me with the force of a battering ram. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push away the terrible doubt that had been gnawing at me since I saw Burt’s body, lifeless on that stretcher. “I don’t want to, but I don’t know what to think anymore,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I’m terrified, Maxwell. I’m in way over my head.”

“Raya, please don’t do this,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. “You need to trust me, now more than ever.”

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