The Row(74)

I catch on to his question immediately, but I don’t know the answer. “He said it was our best option. Isn’t that the park where Hillary’s body was found?”

“Yes.” His face is grim as I pull out from my space beneath the parking lot lights. It’s weird to think that we’re heading back to the place where the body of my father’s mistress was found.

Well, one of his mistresses, anyway.

Drawing one shaky breath, I grip the steering wheel tightly in both hands. “He was weird and it worries me. I guess we’ll have to ask him when we see him.”

*

Mason Park is massive. It sits on over one hundred acres in Houston’s East End. Right in the middle of it sits Brays Bayou. My daddy used to talk about bringing me here when he got out—back when he still talked about that like it was something that could happen.

It’s nearly ten-thirty by the time we get there, and the lights throughout the park seem like pinholes through a black paper, fighting hard but never able to push back the penetrating darkness. The trees hang thick and heavy around the bayou, and the branches cast shadows across the ground like webs of a giant spider just waiting to ensnare us.

I reach for my phone as soon as we’ve closed and locked my car. My hand dives into my pocket to retrieve the torn-out page of my notebook where I’d jotted down the number Mr. Masters gave me.

I’m not sure if it has to do with the way Mr. Masters ended our call earlier or just the bad vibe I’m feeling, but my tense body wants to finish this meeting and get out of here as quickly as possible. Dialing the number, I wait with my hand gripping the phone tighter than necessary as it rings in my ear.

Mr. Masters picks up after the fourth ring and his drawl is back and slow as ever.

“Good evening, Miss Riley.”

“We’re here. Is everything okay? This is a pretty creepy time and place to meet.” My voice strains and I fight with the same worry that has been plaguing me the whole way here. Daddy has been the one who has watched out for me from behind bars. Ben Masters is the man who has always been anywhere I might need the extra support, and I’ve never truly thanked him for it. As much as I want Daddy to survive, I must make sure Mr. Masters comes out of this unscathed, too.

One thing we know for sure, the murderer of Valynne Kemp is still out there. Whether they are a copycat or the original East End Killer, they’re dangerous. It’s unlikely that person would be happy with all the digging around that Mr. Masters has been doing lately.

“Trust me when I say that here and now is the only place I thought we could meet safely. Don’t worry, but be careful.” His voice takes on a decidedly softer tone that I don’t hear from him as often lately, but it calms me down. “I’ll tell you everything when you meet me.”

“Where should we go?”

“Come to the grove of trees between the soccer and baseball fields,” he whispers, softer now. “And Riley? You brought Mr. Vega with you as well, right?”

“Yes.” I lift my eyes to look for Jordan and find him standing behind me, leaning in close enough that he can hear everything.

“Good … good,” he murmurs without explaining any further. “Make sure no one else is following you. See you soon, Miss Riley.”

“See you soon.” I hang up and stick the phone in my pocket, taking a quick glance around us. This end of the park is empty this time of night; the crickets near the bayou chirp in an off-balance way that makes my nerves feel raw. When I turn to face Jordan, his expression matches the grim feeling that has settled over me.

“Why can’t we meet him in the middle of a hot, sunny afternoon?” I say quietly to Jordan as we start walking toward the Mason Park Community Center, which is near the sports fields. Shadows move across the ground in the distance, close enough to be seen, but far enough that I can’t make out any details. I can’t help but feel like someone is watching us.

Jordan scoffs and shakes his head at me. When I give him a look, he frowns and says, “Your Mr. Masters does seem to have a bit of a flair for the dramatic.”

“He does.” I smile softly to myself. “I just hope that’s all this is.”

“Me too,” he answers immediately.

“Do you know specifically where they found Hillary?” My voice sounds tight and Jordan leans closer before shaking his head quickly.

“They said it was near a popular jogging path, but didn’t give specifics on which one.” He frowns and looks down at the path we’re on. “There are so many in this park, it could’ve been anywhere.”

My eyes immediately scan each path in the park around me. In the darkness, each one looks more frightening and ominous than the last. Every branch seems to be an arm reaching out; every howl of wind through the branches could mask a distant scream; every minute we are here feels like it brings us an inch closer to Hillary’s fate.

I quicken my pace and pull my jacket tighter. “The sooner we can finish this and get out of here, the better.”

We walk past the empty sports fields, their lack of light and life making them seem dismal and lonely. It’s odd how these reminders of happy times somehow become incredibly depressing the instant the crowds leave and the lights go out.

Every movement and sound draws our attention with each tense minute that passes. I glance over at Jordan and see his gaze shifting from side to side with nearby sounds, with the rustling of a branch.