Page 24 of White Raven
“Same to you.”
Call ended.
He felt lighter. Was all this moving too fast? It seemed like there was plenty for him to distract his mind from the obvious. Would it be too soon to think about going back to work? Maybe looking into other firms around the country? He’d have to put a few more cases under his belt first, but…all of a sudden getting out of here seemed like the right move.
Fuck it.
CHAPTER 4
HONORING THE DEAD
Athan wasn’t sure what he expected upon arriving at the place that used to be a haunting reminder that he was a slave to the darkness—and the Devil herself. To find it completely changed only three weeks after handing over the deeds to Patrick’s family was as much of a surprise as it was a shock. The Black Bird Tavern was no longer a bar. It was no longer a haven for the creatures of the underworld to come out and play with the unsuspecting humans they preyed upon. The smell of sex and blood had been replaced with the smells of fresh paint and untreated wood. Construction. The smell of change, and rebirth. It did the strangest things to his unusual heart. He walked in, hand-in-hand with Sarah, who seemed just as awestruck as he was as she slowly took in the space where so many lives ended…including her own.
“Wow…” He couldn’t help but agree with the only word she could think to say as he nodded, scoping the place for Patrick’s mother, Linda. “It doesn’t even look like the same building.”
“No, it really doesn’t,” Athan agreed as they walked further into the open room.
The long curve of the bar where Tony spent endless nights had been broken down. The deep alcoves in the walls lining what used to be the dance floor were turning into booths fitted with accommodating tables. The small stage where they’d impaled Dahlia to the wall was also gone…drywall and fresh paint hiding the gruesome fall of the queen as if it had never occurred. There were large frames stacked against the wall bythe large back door that had been taken off its hinges at the entrance to the lower chambers, each frame looking to have some sort of sports memorabilia. A stout woman with sandy blonde hair stepped out of the open hallway and met their attention.
“Are you the detective I spoke to about the belongings?” she asked, her voice echoing through the empty room.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Athan Kane.”
She crossed the floor and he and Sarah met her halfway. Where they now stood would have been directly under a dance cage that no longer hung from the ceiling. The woman audibly swallowed as they approached her, no doubt thinking that their appearance was a heavy reminder of the ones who had slaughtered her son. He was almost surprised she didn’t change her mind and tell them to kick rocks.
“Thank you for calling. I really wasn’t sure what to do with it all. I thought about burning—um…disposingof everything, other than what I could sell that would help brighten up this place.”
The pause after her choice of words hit him harder than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t imagine even seeing this place after a loss like that, let alone spending all your extra time in it and trying to honor him by turning it into something better. It was a true labor of love and had to take tremendous strength. His respect for her grew by…a lot.
“If you know what you want to try to sell, I’ll be happy to take whatever might cause you pain. That includes what used to be her bedroom.” Sarah gave him a strange look after his offer was on the table. She fixed her eyes on him, and they narrowed slightly.
I don’t think you should go anywhere near that room for obvious reasons, Athan.
He cut his eyes to her, trying not to be obvious that they were rudely having a whole conversation in front of someone who couldn’t hear a damn thing they were saying. Before he could respond, Linda did.
“We’ve already cleared that room out. Every bed or cot in this place has been…disposed of. We sold a lot of clothing, and some furniture. We also boxed up everything that was in a small filing cabinet under a large desk in that office. The desk alone paid for half of what will be a small basketball court in the corner here.” She pointed over to where the stage used to be.
“You’re turning the place into a gym?” Sarah asked, curiously.
Linda smiled, and her grief shone through every line in her face. “We’re turning it into a youth center for underprivileged athletes. Patrick was—Patrick was passionate about sports. A real up and coming star. He had so many colleges looking at him. He had been entertaining a few ideas before…well…anyway. We thought it would be a good way to honor his memory and have a piece of him here, continuing what would have been a future as bright as the paint on these walls. We’re very grateful to all of you for this opportunity.”
“Please, it’s the least we could do. Again, I’m deeply sorry for your loss. We’ll help in any way we can.” Athan’s muscles tightened, his throat suddenly feeling dry. Linda rubbed the back of her thick neck uncomfortably.
“I’ll go get those boxes for you.” With that, she turned back towards Dahlia’s old office, and Sarah faced him with a tug on his elbow.
“You okay?” she asked.
He shrugged and looked around the room. “Yeah. Freshening up the place might make her feel some kind of closure. Might even help with her healing…but I can’t really say I feel that way. Just ready to leave it behind.”
Sarah offered a slight smile. “You know…this is where I first laid eyes on you.” Her hand gestured towards the open doorway he’d angrily stormed out after that meeting with Dahlia. “I don’t think I’d say the whole place is full of unhappy memories.”
His mind wandered to the moment his eyes caught sight of that stunning creature on that crowded dance floor. The way every voice that fired off in his head screamed at him to turn around and look at her. Even after the way everything had happened, he found himself eternally grateful. His hand reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Athan’s voice was hoarse when he tried to speak. “Can I—”
“This was shoved in the back of the desk drawer when we sold it,” Linda interrupted as she waddled towards them with a really old leather-bound book in one hand, and a box clutched on her hip. She sat the box on the floor, handing him the dusty old journal. “It looks handwritten, but it’s a language I don’t recognize. Would it mean anything to you?”
Intrigued, he unwound the thin leather strap from around it and opened it up, his face likely graying at the sight of what was inside. Sarah undoubtedly caught his discomfort and knotted her brows as he snapped it closed. “It’s rubbish. I’ll take care of it. Thank you. If you find anything else, feel free to give me a call.” He set his jaw, softly smiling at the woman, and bending over to hoist the box up off the floor. Linda said nothing else, nodding appreciatively while he turned away and made to leave. Sarah’s heels clacked across the unfinished flooring as she caught up to him.
“Hey!” she called, taking his arm as they pushed through the entrance. “Athan?” He paused when they hit the street and ground his teeth when he met her stare. “What’s in the book? What’s wrong?” He handed it over, and she peered down atit, flipping a couple of pages and looking back up to him in confusion. “What is this? It just looks like a bunch of names.”
