Touching Melody - By RaShelle Workman Page 0,80

dad didn’t shoot them, but he was there. I struggle to believe it, to understand.

I start screaming. If I’m going to die like the rest of my family, then I’m going to die fighting.

I hear shouting outside the door.

“Evan, you sick asshole. Come back here and fight like a man.”

This is it, I think.

Kyle

I open the door and look into the hallway. It’s so different from the sterile room I’ve been in. It’s old, smells like a barn. There’s a sound like the repetitive dripping of water coming from somewhere in the building. But I don’t hear people—namely, Baldy and Ponytail.

Moving as quietly as I can, I walk down the hall and turn into a giant room, like an airplane hangar. There are airplane parts scattered all over, laying on the floor, hanging out of wooden crates, and piled in a stack.

Beyond the parts is a smell, one I’m quite familiar with. Marijuana. Pot. Ganja. The college drug, at least that’s what Evan always called it. Whatever. It was nice to light up once in a while.

I’m wondering if Evan is dealing drugs, if that’s why he’s being creepy. But I don’t have time to figure it out. I need to find Evan and kick his stupid fucking ass.

The small door is off to the left, and I run toward it. Turn the handle and burst into the cold, night air.

My skin prickles. I’m immediately freezing.

I need a phone. The street is empty. No payphone in sight. I’m about to go back in the warehouse, hoping there’s a phone, when I see headlights.

“Yes,” I whisper, jumping down the stairs and moving to the middle of the street. I wave my hands over my head, hoping they’ll see me.

The car stops several feet away. It’s black. Kinda looks like a Beamer. At this point it could be a tractor and I’d be happy.

I run over. The driver’s side window goes down. “Hey—” I begin, and freeze. It’s Ms. Spears. The English professor I TA for at the college. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Get in,” she commands.

I’m freezing my balls off. It’d be stupid not to get into her car, but after what occurred between us, I’m not sure I should.

“Don’t be an asshole.” She whips out a badge. I lean forward.

“FBI? Really? You expect me to buy that?” I can’t help the snort the leaves my throat.

A guy leans across her and holds a badge out for me to see. “This isn’t a game, son. Get in the damn car.”

Shock zings through my body. “Serious?”

Bitchy shakes her head. “Yes, you idiot.”

I climb in behind her. Buckle up.

The car jolts forward and the guy with black hair turns to face me. “My name is agent Harris. I’ve been with the FBI for fifteen years, and am agent Smythe’s partner.”

“Agent Smythe?” I interrupt.

He points at Bitchy. She raises a hand, and waves. “Hellooooo.”

“So, tell me, Kyle. What do you know about your uncle and aunt?”

“Um.” I’m not sure what to say. They’re family. I care about them. I know my aunt is constantly hanging out with her friends at the country club. My uncle is constantly gone, dealing with his restaurant. They’re busy. But they’re all I have. “My uncle owns an Italian restaurant. My aunt likes to hang out at the country club.” I stop, clamp my mouth shut. What do they want me to say?

Agent Harris nods. “That’s true. To an extent. We believe your uncle is the leader of a mafia-style drug ring that has its tentacles in the Bellam Springs Police Department. We believe your father worked for him, and he did something to go against the family, which is why he was executed. We also believe that the girl you’ve been dating, Maddelena Martin?” He paused, as though waiting for me to confirm.

“Yes, I know her.”

“Her father came into information about your father and your uncle that would implicate them. But, as you know, he and her mother were killed. And the information wasn’t recovered.”

A bead of fear is forming in my gut, and is growing. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because Maddie is in trouble. We had eyes on her, but she’s gone and we aren’t sure where she is. We’ve been checking all of the known locations your uncle has used over the years, but we’ve come up empty handed.”

“She’s supposed to be staying with her aunt and uncle,” I say, trying to push down the terror building inside.

“We had a car there, but