“You’ve got history here, Ruby Rose,” he said, turning around to face me. “He’s brought you back to the beginning.”
That was it—Detective Martinez knew who Silver was. “The beginning of what?” I asked. “Just tell me why we’re here. I thought we were supposed to be going to the Rose Bowl.”
“The stadium is right behind that hill,” he said, pointing behind the abandoned-looking apartment building. I could just see the bright lights of the stadium in the night sky.
“But we’re not going there,” he went on. “He’s brought you back to apartment 4E.”
I tried to make sense of the apartment number, but 4E meant nothing to me. I racked my brain and scanned the building for something familiar to jog my memory. And there it was, the address sign: College Village South Apartments—366 University Parkway. This was the third time Silver had used those three numbers in his sick game. He’d meant to lure me here all along, and Martinez knew it.
“Why here? What is this place?” I demanded.
When he didn’t answer, I leaned over to see his face. His mouth moved like he wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out. Why was it so hard for anyone to tell me anything?
“We don’t have time for this,” I said, exasperated. Resolving not to wait for answers and to go find them myself, I reached for the door handle. But Martinez grabbed my shoulder with a death grip.
“We aren’t going anywhere. I am going in, alone.” He squeezed my shoulder tighter, with emphasis. “You two are staying here until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”
“No,” I said, pulling away from him. “Dr. T is in there because of me. What if I’m the only one who can save her?”
He gave me a condescending smirk. “You’re seventeen. Believe me, you’re not the only one who can save her.” He turned and got out of the car. “Just stay put,” he said, glaring at us both.
He shut his door, raised his weapon in front of him just like my dad would’ve done, and disappeared under a dark archway of the building.
“I’m not sitting here,” I said to Liam. “I’m the one with the key.” I pulled it out of my pocket.
“Ruby, I’m begging you,” Liam said. “Just wait.”
He stared with concern at the spot where Detective Martinez had disappeared, but I knew Martinez was fully capable of defending himself. At least he had a weapon, which was something we didn’t have. I searched the squad car for a stowed shotgun or a hidden knife, but I found nada. My only weapon now was the key.
After minutes that seemed more like wasted hours, I caved. I wasn’t going to be a spectator anymore. As I was about to leap out of the car, the boom of a cannon sounded and fireworks exploded behind the hill. The home team must’ve scored. For a moment, the beauty of the scene blindsided me, and I couldn’t help but watch the streaming colors fall from the sky. I grabbed the door handle. “Liam, you can stay here if you want, but I have to go in.”
When he didn’t move or respond, I waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. He grabbed my hand and pinned it down, continuing to stare at where Martinez had disappeared.
“Are you listening to me?” I said, losing patience.
“Ruby, just wait,” he said in a hushed tone. “I thought I saw something.”
“What?” I strained to see what he was talking about. “Where?”
“I don’t know.” He huffed and finally pulled his tense body away from the window to rub his eyes. “Maybe it was nothing.”
“Liam, what did you see?”
“I thought I saw a flicker of light in the apartment up there,” he said, pointing to the second story. “I thought I heard something, too.”
I looked up to where he was pointing but didn’t see anything. “Are you sure it wasn’t the fireworks?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I’m going to go check it out,” I said, but he stopped me again.
“Wait, Ruby, it’s a trap. You know that!” The intensity of Liam’s eyes in the darkness was more effective than his python-like grip. “Just because Martinez didn’t want to call for backup doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t—”
“No, I think Martinez was right. If we call it in, anyone from dispatch to SWAT could handle it wrong and Dr. T could die. Maybe Martinez knows what he’s doing. He seems to know a lot more about Silver than we do.” I shook my head in disbelief that I was actually siding with Martinez. “Look, Silver has a plan, and at this point I don’t think killing me is part of it, so I’m going in there. And you are not going to stop me.”
I got out of the car, and Liam climbed out after me. The building’s entrance seemed more like a deserted mine than college housing. And given how close we were to the stadium, it felt odd for the area to be so forsaken.
A bluster of dust nearly knocked me into Liam as I moved toward the dark corridor’s opening. All the exterior lights were either burned out or busted in. If anyone still lived in these apartments, I felt sorry for them.
Martinez must’ve somehow known exactly where 4E was, and he’d gone this way, so we followed the path until it opened up into a courtyard with a gated pool. The water looked like the greenish-brown algae color of swamps meant for gator huntin’—not bikinis and Pi Beta Phi keg parties. It even smelled like a rotting cesspool. Anything could be at the bottom of that water.
Signs were posted all around the gate, and I crossed the dying grass to read one. The place had been condemned. Scheduled to be torn down and rebuilt in a few months. Which meant it was abandoned, and we were alone.
“Great. No witnesses.” Liam’s words echoed my fears. “I don’t feel good about this.”
When had either one of us ever felt good about any of this?
Suddenly, a desperate groan came from the shadows behind us. We spun around to face a dark entryway at the back of a staircase, then we sprinted toward the sound.
It was Martinez—lying facedown, looking broken and barely alive. Blood poured out of his shirt. He’d been shot.
“I knew I heard something,” Liam berated himself. “I’m calling 911.”
I wasn’t going to stop him. Though I doubted the cops or an ambulance would get here in time.
“Ruby,” Martinez moaned so low I could barely hear him. I fell to my knees beside him as Liam made the call. The smell of blood mixed with the faint scent of smoke made me dizzy and nauseated. I didn’t know Martinez smoked. I hadn’t smelled it on him in the car.
“I’m here, Detective, right here,” I said, holding his bloodied hand. “We’re calling the paramedics. You’ll be all right.” I hoped it was true.
“Liam, help me turn him over.”
As we carefully rolled Martinez over, I felt a bulletproof vest under his linen shirt. In the dark corridor I couldn’t see where the bullet wounds were.
“I’m going to take your vest off, Detective—”
“No, Ruby, don’t…” He spoke laboriously, like every syllable pained him. “I tried…to prevent it…to make them—make her—tell you…the truth.”
He was losing consciousness.
“I told your mother not to do it. I told her to come clean. But how could…we have…known it would…come to this?” His body tensed up with a sudden shaking fit to match the tremors inside me. What had my mother done to bring this on us all?
As I tried to find the source of the bleeding, the metallic scent of blood and the scent of smoke grew even stronger. My eyes watered, my nose stung, and the glands in the back of my throat tickled—that feeling right before a vicious upchucking attack. A section of his flesh had been ripped open on his forearm, right where his Marine tattoo used to be. The same tattoo my dad had.