Page 13 of Violent Skies
“Slow cooker,” Murphy says, typing away. “Still not good enough to get her to stop eating fruit loops though,” he grumbles and Birdie gives him a dirty look before kicking his shin under the table. “Don’t,” he snaps.
“Or what?” Birdie clips back.
“I’ll beat your ass,” Murphy threatens, and Birdie drops her spoon.
“Yeah okay, noodle arms.” She flicks a soggy fruit loop on his computer and he finally looks up just long enough to shoot her a death glare.
“Run,” he growls, and Birdie loses it laughing before taking off out of her chair so fast it clangs to the floor and makes me jump.
Murphy follows her through the house with impressive speed, and you can hear the moment she’s caught because the sounds of them wrestling and Murphy screaming for mercy echo down from upstairs.
“Breathe,” Riggs says as he sits down, and I realize I’d stopped. The commotion, the rough housing. My brain and body still haven’t settled from the other night and I’m only now realizing that. I ignore him and start to eat again, working quietly to slow the way my heart races as he starts to shovel food into his mouth beside me.
“Can you just stop for a second?” I ask him angrily, and he pauses to stare at me. “I’m going to stab you with my fork if you don't.”
“Sure you will,” Riggs teases as Rafe wanders into the house.
“Hey so I think I figured something out,” he says, dropping onto a chair and throwing Koa’s journal on the table with a soft thud. “I don’t think he owed anyone.” This makes both of us stop and look at him. “Where’s Murph?”
“Here,” he comes down the back set of stairs with a red face and bruising bite mark on his forearm followed by a satisfied looking Birdie.
“If you were wondering, he got his ass kicked,” she says, sliding into her chair and going back to her cereal milk.
“Look up these four names,” Rafe pushes the book toward him.
Murphy looks around for his glasses and Birdie reaches over without looking and pulls them from the pocket of the plaid shirt he’s wearing over his t-shirt.
“You’re still a picky dipshit.” He snags them from her.
“You’re still a weak pussy,” she hums.
Murphy and Birdie bicker quietly as he cross checks the names. “Uh, first guy is dead.”
Rafe smiles.
“So is the second guy…” Murphy scowls. “All these people are dead.”
“What?” Riggs sets down his fork finally and Murphy shrugs.
“I mean I can keep checking the book, but all of these people are dead…” Murphy swallows tightly and keeps going back and forth between the book and the laptop. “Like, all of them, you guys. This is insane. Drowning, murder, suicide, house fire, shooting… One guy was found run over, multiple times. His intestines were all over the road, look at this.” He turns the laptop to expose the crime scene photos and my stomach churns violently enough for me to lose my appetite.
“Murph.” Riggs shakes his head.
“Sorry, Cress,” Murphy grimaces as he turns the computer away.
“It’s okay,” I swallow tightly. “What does it mean?”
“It means whatever Koa was doing is a lot more twisted than just money,” Birdie comments. “But what?”
“I think he was the bookie…” Rafe says and we all look at him confused. “I think this book is the money these people owed. Not him, but whoever he was working for.”
“You wanna tell me Koa was beating the shit out of people for money? It’s Koa, he’d never hurt a fly.” I hiss, “these people are dead!”
They all go still and I realize that they were comfortable with it. That death isn’t something that fazes them, it's the secrets eating them up. Murphy tips his head to the side with a little apology in the form of a shrug.
“This makes no sense. If it’s not someone after Koa for money, why are they coming after me?” I ask when no one says anything.
“Don’t know,” Murphy answers, “but…” he hums, spinning the laptop to show me a stream of cameras from our neighbours houses. Three men enter the house just after one in the morning. The storm makes it hard to see their faces but about an hour later they all stumble out and load back into the same car I’d been seeing for weeks.
