Chapter 2 - The Man in the Black Suit
I snatched Celia's phone. "Who is he?"
She held up a trembling hand. "Please. Not here."
Lucía clamped onto my wrist. Her nails dug through my skin. She could barely talk, but she forced out two words: "Black suit."
Mercer stood near the doors in a black suit, one hand inside his coat. He smiled at me as though nothing had happened. When the first paramedic hurried in, Mercer started toward the broken coffin.
"Stay away from her," I said.
"I only want to help."
"Then show both hands."
He froze. The paramedic looked from him to me. Mercer backed away, pushed through a side exit, and vanished.
Pike tried to cover the shattered lid with a black cloth. "This is a police matter. Everybody needs to leave."
"Don't touch a thing," said the woman who had called 911. She introduced herself as Mara, an off-duty emergency nurse. "That coffin is evidence."
Lucía grabbed my shirt as the paramedics lifted her out. "They said you wouldn't come," she rasped.
My stomach turned. I'd ignored three calls from her during the week because we were fighting about the family property. Three calls. I could feel each one like a stone in my throat.
"I'm here now," I promised.
At the ambulance, a uniformed deputy tried to take Celia's phone from me. His badge read HOBBS. He didn't ask about Lucía's injuries; he asked whether I'd damaged private property.
"A woman was locked in a coffin," Mara said sharply.
"I know what I'm investigating," Hobbs snapped.
Then he looked past me and gave Pike a quick, familiar nod.
I kept the phone. The ringing stopped. One text appeared from DAD: DID SHE STAY QUIET?
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Before I could show Mara, another message came through. A photograph of Celia's sixteen-year-old son, Jamie, strapped to a chair in a room with peeling green walls.
Under it were six words: ASK YOUR AUNT WHO IS NEXT.
