The Black Coats(78)



Except this time, instead of Natalie’s picture clipped to an easel, her boyfriend was tied to a chair with his mouth gagged and hands bound. Behind him stood two women Thea didn’t recognize, each holding a gun to his head. They were both wearing butterfly pins. Monarchs.

Blood was crusted across Drew’s cheek, and his eyes were glossy, but he let out a whimper when he saw her. His mouth twisted in a way that made Thea’s heart feel as though it had been squeezed. She stepped toward him, the tether between them pulling at her with nothing less than gravity. She met Drew’s eyes. “I love you,” she mouthed. He closed his eyes and nodded, his head drooping forward. Whatever happened, she needed him to know.

“That’s enough, lovebirds.” Julie Westing stepped out of an inky section of the room, a black pantsuit wrapped around her frame, a black choker made of lace butterflies wrapped several times around her neck. She was wearing black leather gloves. A shiver ran up Thea’s spine.

Thea heard the cock of a gun and saw the barrel aimed at her, held firmly in one of the Monarchs’ hands. The luminary grinned menacingly. “I am impressed by you, girl! I look forward to hearing later how you made your way up here.” She shook her head, the light from outside giving her gray hair an unearthly glow.

Julie stepped past Thea, toward Drew, and wrapped her long fingers around the hand of one of the women holding a gun. Her gaze steady on Thea, she moved the muzzle up underneath Drew’s chin, his face recoiling in fear. “I would hate to ruin this very pretty face.” She mimicked a pout before moving the gun to his temple. “Or maybe I should shoot him here. That way we don’t lose that jawline.”

“Stop!” Thea hastily backed away with her hands up. “Please don’t hurt him! Whatever you want from me, take it, just leave him. He didn’t do anything.”

“He didn’t do anything?” Julie dropped the woman’s hand and wheeled on Thea. “How often do we hear that refrain? But he didn’t do anything. It wasn’t his fault that he raped her—he was drunk! She was drunk! He beats his family, but he provides for them. He may have killed his girlfriend, but he was a gifted athlete! His wife just fell off the cruise ship! Men, protected by their positions and their power, are getting away with murder and abuse and assault. So please, don’t let me hear you say it that he didn’t do anything!” Julie’s eyes became cold slits. “This boy passed on crucial information on the Black Coats to his father. That means he did something. And you helped him do it.”

Thea was listening, but her attention remained on the two women who held Drew captive. She had to be smart; if she didn’t pay attention, things could go wrong so fast. Julie kept talking.

“You didn’t have to see your friend, bloody and raped, dragging herself through your front door, begging you not to call her father. And the boy who raped her? Trevor? Not even so much as a slap on his wrist.” A smile lit up her face. “That is, not until we took matters into our own hands. Robin and I, we had to stand up for ourselves. And I, I loved her, Thea. I loved her. That’s what the Black Coats is about, Thea. It’s about justice. That’s what you don’t understand.”

“I understand perfectly,” snapped Thea, her eyes never leaving Drew’s terrified face. “I understand that what you think you’re doing is noble, but you’re wrong. Even if just one person is innocent, your system is broken.” She turned to Julie. “How much worse to take an innocent life than to punish hundreds of the guilty?”

The luminary shrugged. “You’re wrong. Besides, what is just one more man? Speaking of men—where is this boy’s father?” Julie’s face crinkled like paper as an ugly smile slithered its way across her lips.

It was like someone pulled away the curtain from over Thea’s eyes. She saw instantly what she had innately felt all those times she had looked at Julie, felt that uncomfortable dread crawling through her in her presence. Julie was a psychopath. An elegant, well-spoken, charming Southern lady who also happened to be a psychopath. When Thea spoke again, her voice was unsteady as she lied. “Adam Porter is on his way here, alone. Let Drew go, and I’ll stay in his place.”

Julie’s eyes narrowed to sharp points as she shook her head. “You’re lying. I can tell. You didn’t bring him. See, this is why I didn’t like you, why I told Nixon you weren’t right for the group. You’re too headstrong.”

“Well, you’re crazy,” Thea snipped in return, her patience worn thin.

“Maybe. But not as crazy as you’re about to be.” Julie raised her hand and Thea could see now that it clutched a black folder. Her stomach twisted. Julie was holding Natalie’s file, and inside it were the missing papers. “Poor Thea Soloman, losing so many people! First her cousin, murdered by . . . oh, I guess you’ll never know. And then her boyfriend, shot during a drug deal gone south! Who knew that this high school soccer star was actually a seasoned criminal with a dark past?”

“What do you want, Julie?”

The crone stepped up in front of Thea, who had to clench her fists to keep from punching away the satisfied look on her face. “It’s not what I want. It’s what is going to happen. Bea is going to make sure that not only does Drew not remember any of this but also that he forgets you forever. Once that’s done, we are going to trade Drew’s life for his father’s. Adam Porter dies either way. It’s your choice whether Drew goes with him.”

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