The Ghost’s Obsession

5

RAVEN

My heart hammered against my ribs. I was right. And I hated it.

I went straight to my laptop and tried tracing the number. Five minutes later, I was still staring at an empty screen. The number was untraceable, almost like it had never existed. I checked public records first. Nothing. Then I tried routing it through databases William once swore were invisible to governments. Still nothing.

Whoever sent that message either knew what they were doing or had someone skilled enough to cover for them.

A burner phone.

That was the only explanation.

Everything in me wanted to pack a bag and run. I didn't know who they were or what they wanted, but when I checked my savings, reality hit hard. I couldn't afford to start over somewhere else, not without stealing, and I was done with that life.

My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. This wasn't something I could run from, mostly because I still didn't know what I was running from. I just needed to survive long enough to save up and leave.

For now.

I opened my shopping app and ordered whatever made me feel slightly less helpless. Bear spray. A baseball bat. A small electric stun device. Extra door alarms. Anything that might give me a chance if someone came through that door.

After that, I dug through yesterday's jeans looking for nothing in particular and found a small piece of cardboard in the pocket instead. Eddy's business card. I stared at it a moment, then dialed the number.

Staring up at the automobile shop in front of me, I wondered if Eddy had been joking when he called it small. The man was either incredibly humble or terrible at describing things. Through the glass I could see rows of sports cars, some modified past recognition, surrounded by equipment that looked more like a professional racing facility than a normal workshop.

I walked in and met a receptionist.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see Eddy Coulins."

Her expression shifted. "Raven?"

I nodded.

"He told us to expect you. He's in the workshop, that way."

"Thanks."

Inside, everyone was working, some under cars, others gathered around screens flashing data. A few people glanced at me, clearly clocking that I wasn't a customer. I didn't belong here.

Not yet.

The receptionist led me to the racing section before peeling off. "He's over there. I should get back before someone notices I abandoned the desk."

I watched Eddy for a moment. He stood beside a sleek race car with several mechanics around him, and from his face, things weren't going well.

"I'm telling you, it's not the engine," one mechanic argued.

"Then explain why it keeps losing power every time we push it," Eddy snapped.

Nobody answered. I looked at the screen beside the car. The data kept shifting. The car wasn't broken. It was confused.

Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward. "Can I try?"

Every head turned. Eddy's annoyance cracked into something else when he saw me. "Raven." He looked past me. "Where's Mia? I told her to bring you to my office."

I ignored that. "Can I try?"

One of the mechanics snorted. "Try what, exactly?"

"Fix it."

That earned a few amused looks. Eddy studied me. "Raven, this isn't exactly—"

"This is a test car, right?" I nodded at the computer. "Let me look. If I can't figure it out, I'll leave and never come back."

Something in my voice killed the laughter. Eddy stepped aside. "Fine."

The screen was full of numbers. Most people would just see numbers. I saw a pattern. I scrolled through the readings, watching how the car responded under pressure.

"The problem isn't the engine," I said. "The computer's getting the wrong information." I pointed at the screen. "Every time it hits a certain point, the system thinks something's failing and cuts power to protect itself."

Eddy moved closer. "So it's protecting itself from a problem that isn't there?"

"Exactly."

I connected my laptop. My fingers moved before I thought about it. William used to make us practise this for hours, teaching us how a single false reading could decide a race worth millions. Back then I learned how to make cars lose. Today I was finally teaching one how to win.

A few adjustments. A few corrections. I closed the program.

"Try it."

The driver climbed in. The engine roared, and this time it sounded different, cleaner, stronger, the readout showing everything running clean.

Nobody spoke. Eddy looked at the results, then at me. "How'd you know that?"

I shrugged. "I listen."

That made him laugh. "If that was your application to be my mechanic, you passed."

"Mechanic?"

"I was going to offer you the receptionist job." He shook his head. "Glad I didn't." He glanced at his team. "Jen's in prison; apparently we just found her replacement."

The same men who'd been skeptical minutes earlier suddenly looked a lot friendlier. I wasn't sure how to take that, so I stayed quiet, same as always. People being nice still felt suspicious.

After we settled on pay and schedule, Eddy waved over one of the mechanics. "Joey, show her around."

A dirty blonde guy walked over, wiping his hands. "I'm Joey." He offered his hand.

I looked at it a second too long before shaking it. Prison teaches you to notice hands before faces. "Raven."

"Only one name?"

"Usually enough."

He laughed. "I like you already."

I didn't have anything to say to that, so I said nothing.

By the time I left Coulins Automotive, the sun was already going down. Eddy had told me I could start tomorrow, which meant I finally had something close to a normal life. A job. A paycheck. A reason to wake up.

I took the bus home, earbuds in, already planning what to cook for dinner. Then I noticed him.

The man who'd boarded with me. Sitting four seats behind. At first I ignored it, people move, people change seats, that doesn't mean anything. Then I noticed the distance had changed.

He was closer.

Two seats closer.

My body went still. His face was hidden under a hood and a low cap, impossible to make out. I told myself I was imagining it, that prison had made me paranoid.

The bus stopped again. He stood. My pulse steadied. He was getting off. Instead, he walked slowly down the aisle...

...and stopped beside my seat.