When Devils Sing(84)
Neera nodded absently. “He thinks he’s saving me from the very monster he created. I think we have the element of surprise here.”
The three of them looked at one another, parceling together this new foundation of trust.
“Did you find out anything from Sam last night?” Isaiah finally asked.
Yeah, that she also made a deal with a devil. Neera carefully considered what to say instead. “It turns out that she was forced into lying about Dawson on the news. She was threatened and didn’t have any other choice.”
Reid’s gray eyes widened. “I fucking knew it.”
Isaiah leaned forward on the couch. “Does that mean Dawson is still—?”
“Alive?” Neera finished. “She said he’s not dead yet, but I don’t know when he will be or what that means exactly. We didn’t have long to talk before she had to go back to work.”
“Okay,” Isaiah said. “Can you find out more from Sam and look into Grant?”
Neera nodded. “What’s next for you two then?”
“Tonight is another big Clearwater party at my house,” Reid offered. “Everyone will be there, even Grant and Leblanc. Could be a good time for us all to do some digging while they’re distracted.”
“All right,” Isaiah conceded. “Does that work for you, Neera?”
“Let’s do it,” Neera said, her eyes going to the window, as rain ran down the glass in heavy waves. She looked past the storm, to the massive silhouette of Grant’s home sitting yards away.
CHAPTER 34NEERA
49 HOURS
Neera didn’t yet know if Grant had an angle in inviting her to stay or if he’d simply taken an honest interest in her music, but she was determined to find out.
Once the boys were gone, Neera sat beside the pool house’s window, anxiously drumming her fingers on her knee as she waited. For something, anything. An hour passed before the garage door of Grant’s house opened, revealing him climbing onto a gleaming motorcycle.
At the sight of it, she mused aloud, “Of course he’d drive a Harley.”
Grant peeled out of the garage, then out of his driveway. Once she could no longer hear the engine, she hurried to the garage. As she trekked across the expansive backyard, the open garage began to close, as if on a timer. Foolishly, she broke out in a sprint, but reached his home as soon as the garage door shuttered.
She cursed under her breath.
Neera took a step back, taking in the size of the sprawling mansion. It must’ve been as big as two Colonial motels, if not more. She walked the width of the house, peeking inside the windows and jiggling the doors. Nothing budged.
She shot Isaiah a quick text: No dice on getting inside his house.
Isaiah responded a minute later: That’s okay. You can try tomorrow. We’re gonna check out Leblanc’s boat.
Good luck. I’ll talk to Sam, Neera responded before pocketing her phone.
With nothing productive to occupy her that night, Neera decided against playing the Yamaha or worrying herself sick. Instead, she dug around the front seat of the Nissan, sorting through used napkins and old receipts, until she finally found it.
A napkin with a phone number scrawled onto it.
Sam’s number.
Neera cradled her phone in her hand as she paced the length of the pool house. She debated if she had the courage to call the red-haired girl who’d seen her at her most vulnerable. Sam had seen her vomit the live cicada last night, and she knew. She’d understood.
Was it worth exploring that connection between them?
* * *
THE SUN WAS sitting low on the flat horizon when Neera arrived at Sam’s house. The rain had passed for the time being, leaving a thick wave of humidity in its wake. The cicadas had quieted, with the bellows of tree frogs replacing them in spades. Lightning bugs dotted the air.
While Neera’s home at the Colonial was a cage of pines, Sam’s home was an expansive vista, far-reaching and open. In the golden hour of evening, the land was warm and welcoming, coated in the shimmer of a fresh summer rain.
“This is beautiful,” Neera admired as Sam came out to greet her.
Sam followed her line of sight. “It’s not too bad sometimes.”
“You live here alone?” Neera asked, eyeing the small trailer. It was humble, but nothing to judge. She’d lived in many herself.
“Roommates,” Sam said. Wryly, she asked, “You ever ridden a four-wheeler?”
Neera arched a thick brow. “Can’t say I have.”
Sam beamed. “Well, would you like to try?”
Ten minutes later, Sam navigated the four-wheeler around the property, with Neera situated behind her. She had her arms around Sam’s waist, her face hesitant against her back.
“Hold on tight,” Sam said before she hit the gas, sending the four-wheeler’s engine roaring to life.
The four-wheeler peeled through the wet earth, kicking up mud and grass all around them. Sam went nearly forty, navigating them across flat pastures and empty fields with the ever-present pines on both sides. The wind sent Sam’s braid flying, while Neera’s long hair lashed wildly around her face, but otherwise it was a welcome reprieve from the muggy heat.
They rode like that for a long while before Sam finally slowed. The engine quieted as she turned her head to Neera. “I wanna show you something, but you gotta close your eyes, all right?”