Vacant Voices (Blind Barriers Trilogy Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Vacant Voices (Blind Barriers Trilogy #3)

  Copyright © 2018 by Sophie Davis Books

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Learn more: www.sophiedavisbooks.com

  For Oliver, the brightest light even on the grayest of winter days.

  ALSO BY SOPHIE DAVIS

  BLIND BARRIERS SERIES

  Fragile Façade (Blind Barriers Trilogy #1)

  Platinum Prey (Blind Barriers Trilogy #2)

  Vacant Voices (Blind Barriers Trilogy #3)

  THE TALENTED SAGA

  Talented (Talented Saga #1)

  Caged (Talented Saga #2)

  Hunted (Talented Saga #3)

  Captivated (A Talented Novella) (Talented Saga #3.5)

  Created (Talented Saga #4)

  Exiled: Kenly’s Story (Talented Saga #5)

  Marked (Talented Saga #6)

  Privileged (Talented Saga #7)

  Fated (Talented Saga #8)

  TIMEWAVES SERIES

  The Syndicate (Timewaves Series #1)

  Atlic (Timewaves Series #2)

  Legends Untold (Timewaves Series #3)

  CHAPTER ONE

  RAVEN

  All around us people went on with their lives, went about their days as though nothing was amiss. As though oblivious to the world altering moment that I was experiencing.

  Okay, maybe that was a tad dramatic. But in fairness, seeing Asher and Blake Greyfield at the same table did shake up my reality.

  I stared at Asher, the neighbor I’d come to think of as a friend, the confidante I’d come to trust, the liar whose brown irises suddenly seemed as foreign to my eyes as Russian was to my ears. My focus switched to the other boy at the table—Blake Greyfield, Lark Kingsley’s infamous boyfriend. It was only the second time I’d seen him in person, the first time up close, but I felt as though I knew him.

  You do.

  It was true. In a way, I did know Blake, vicariously through Lark’s journal. She talked about him in such great detail, talked about her feelings for him in such depth. I knew his quirks and that he had a birthmark on his left side, directly over the bottom three ribs. And yet, I didn’t know why Blake Greyfield was sitting at a table in a Washington, D.C. coffee shop with my neighbor.

  “I’m waiting,” I said, drumming my fingers on the table impatiently.

  Both guys watched me expectantly, as though I owed them an explanation and not the other way around.

  “Raven….” Asher was the first to crack, but he didn’t seem to know quite what to say.

  Well that makes two of us, I thought angrily.

  “I understand you’re trying to find Lark,” Blake spoke so softly it was a miracle that I heard him over the dull roar of the afternoon caffeine crowd.

  I focused on his soft green gaze, full of love and concern and…fear?

  My anger dissipated, and I nodded shyly. “Yeah, I’ve been looking into her disappearance.”

  Should I take his hand? Is that weird? Will he think that’s weird?

  “Are you the one who mailed me the package?” asked Blake, studying my face as though ready to read a deeper meaning into my yes or no response.

  I folded my hands in my lap, resisting the urge to physically comfort Blake. “Yep, that was me,” I said after a long pause.

  He nodded and swallowed hard. “Did you read it?” The question held no accusation, only curiosity. And for a brief moment, I thought maybe I saw a glimmer of hope in Blake’s expression.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wants to hear that I did read his personal correspondence.

  Asher cleared his throat. I’d nearly forgotten he was there, but the subtle reminder brought with it a fresh wave of betrayal. Not only had he gone behind my back for a face to face with Blake, but he’d also broken into Lark’s apartment when he was supposed to be in class.

  What twisted game are you playing? I wondered.

  “Raven?” Blake prompted, tripping a little over my name.

  “Hmm? Oh, sorry. Um, no I didn’t—of course I didn’t read your mail.” I couldn’t be angry with Blake for this secret meeting. Just because I felt like I knew him didn’t mean we were friends, and he owed me nothing. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed by the implication. “What kind of girl do you think I am?” I snapped, and immediately regretted my tone. I slumped in my chair, anticipating a snappy retort.

  It never came.

  Blake’s smile was wistful, and fleetingly. “A good one, all the way down to your core.”

  It was a strange phrase, odd wording, and the way Blake watched me closely as though he thought the words might mean something to me made me think it was a test. Like if I showed any sign of recognition, it would prove…something.

  Does he know about the journal? I wondered. Is that the issue? Does he want confirmation that I’ve been reading his girlfriend’s diary?

  “The envelope was already packaged and addressed when I found it,” I said when the silence became too prolonged and awkward.

  “Found it?” His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Found it…where, exactly?”

  “Maybe you should start at the beginning, Raven?” Asher suggested softly. “Tell Blake about the journal.”

  I spun in my chair to address Asher head on. “Excuse me? I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands,” I snapped. Glancing from my neighbor to Lark’s boyfriend, I added, “And I’m not telling either of you anything until one of you tells me how you two know each other.”

  Asher owed me an explanation. He was supposed to be my friend. He was the one who’d betrayed my trust. And yet, there was nothing Asher could say that I would believe. I turned my attention on Lark’s boyfriend, and even as Asher started to ramble, I said, “Please, Blake?”

  Asher raised his voice an octave, a note of panic belying his calm demeanor. “We don’t know each other, Raven. This is the first time we—”

  I spoke over him. “Blake?”

  It seemed like forever before Blake finally parted his lips, and another lifetime passed before sound came out. “We don’t actually know each other.” He gestured between himself and Asher. “We met for the first time yesterday, at your apartment.”

  “You mean Lark’s place, over at The Pines?” I asked, because I was pretty sure he’d never been to the Gibson Street apartment.

  “Yeah, The Pines.” Blake looked pensive. “Wait, Lark rented an apartment here in D.C.? Are you sure it was Lark?” He directed the last question to Asher.

  “Posit
ive,” I said flatly. But then I remembered the alias on all the mail, and Deidre, Lark’s neighbor, who referred to the renter in 10A as that “Queensbridge person”.

  Is it possible that Lila Queensbridge is a real person? A friend of Lark’s maybe?

  I contemplated the possibly but didn’t share my thoughts with the guys.

  “It seems as though Lark is the one who rented the apartment,” Asher said quietly.

  “Why did you come to The Pines, Blake?” I asked, because the question was burning a hole in my brain. What was in the package he received? How did he learn about the apartment? Had there been a note, asking him to bring me the key to the butterfly?

  Blake looked from me to Asher and back again before answering, his reply measured as though worried about saying the wrong words. “There was an envelope inside the package you mailed, the return address was the apartment at The Pines,” he said, squirming a bit in his seat.

  I waited for him to elaborate, but after a long minute, it was clear Blake had no intention of doing so. “So there wasn’t a note or anything? Instructions for what to do with the key?” I prompted.

  “Yeah…sort of,” Blake admitted, looking more and more uncomfortable by the second.

  “Sort of?” I repeated, becoming increasingly annoyed by his hesitancy.

  “Raven, let’s take a step back,” Asher interjected.

  “You,” I jabbed my finger toward him, “shut it. You are a liar, and I can’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”

  “I swear to you, Blake and I met for the first time yesterday.” Asher’s tone was oddly flat, but I got the impression that his lack of emotion was out of fear of angering me further.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Blake said. “I don’t know what all Asher has told you about—” Panic flashed in Asher’s eyes, and Blake hesitated before continuing. “Um, about himself. I don’t know what sort of…relationship the two of you have.” He tripped over the words, and his smile was sad when he met my gaze. “But I promise that he’s telling the truth about our relationship.”

  I nodded jerkily. “Okay, fine. I believe you.”

  Blake’s relief was palpable, as though my trust mattered a great deal to him. Taking a deep breath, I tried to get the conversation back on track. “So something in the package ‘sort of’ told you to bring the key to The Pines?”

  Blake nodded but gave no verbal confirmation.

  “What else was in that package?” I was done beating around the proverbial bush. It was time for some real answers, and bluntness was likely my best shot.

  Blake hesitated and averted his gaze. When he finally looked up from the cup of coffee he was holding with a white-knuckled grip, it was Asher he chose to focus on. “It’s personal,” he said. Blake began to fidget as though feeling my intent gaze, despite his unwillingness to look at me. “I think…I think maybe you should read the contents for yourself.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Asher interjected.

  I rounded on him. “It’s not your decision,” I snapped.

  “Raven….” Asher reached for me but thought better of it when I glared at him. “I just…this whole thing has taken a toll on you. Do you really want to read Lark’s personal correspondence to her boyfriend? Isn’t that maybe an invasion of her privacy?”

  Yes, yes it is, I thought. But I’d read her diary, which was pretty personal. And Blake had offered…so, yeah, I did want to know what was inside that heavy package. Invasion of privacy be damned.

  “I think she has a right to know,” Blake said before I could answer Asher. Then, finally, Lark’s boyfriend looked me square in the eye. “But first, I’d like to know your role in all this. How did you get involved with Lark? What made you start investigating her disappearance?” His tone was even, but his expression was pained.

  I can’t imagine what he’s going through. This must be so hard for him.

  “Start at the beginning, Raven,” Asher said again.

  And again, I silenced him with a glare. Where does that lying asshat get off telling me what to do?

  But when I took a deep breath and clasped my hands on the table in front of me, I did start at the beginning. Not because Asher thought it best, but because it was the logical choice. “I found Lark’s journal.”

  Blake’s eyebrows shot northward. “Her journal?” Surprised was an understatement. He clearly didn’t know his girlfriend had been writing down her thoughts and feelings.

  I nodded. “Yeah, it was in the car I bought.” Holding up my hands to halt further questions that I didn’t have answers for, I added, “I don’t know how it got there.”

  “I see.” Blake sucked in his bottom lip as he considered his next words. “Where did you buy the car? In New York?”

  “Um, no. New Freedom, Pennsylvania. I found a listing on line, and it was cheap.” I shrugged. “You can look it over if you want. I don’t know if Lark ever owned it or anything, but…well, the journal wasn’t the only item of hers inside.”

  Had I said too much? The butterfly necklace was where Lark had hidden the USB with those hours of boring business meetings. The same USB that Asher had stolen from The Pines apartment. The same USB that Blake’s key had unlocked.

  Silence descended upon us, as if we were in a soundproof bubble that blocked out the surrounding chitter chatter. Blake didn’t ask what else I found, he just stared at me expectantly.

  Feeling an uncharacteristic need to fill the conversational void, I started rambling about the keycard and apartment keys I’d found inside the journal; the clues that had led me to Union Station, Larry’s Pawn, and First National Bank; and even the diary entries detailing the last year of Lark’s life. At times I wondered if I was making sense, because the string of events that had brought me to that coffee shop, to that table with Asher and Blake, sounded nuts.

  But Lark’s boyfriend hung on my every word, as though hearing about the clues she’d left for me was somehow bringing him closer to her. I danced around Asher suspicious behavior and gave a muddled explanation as to why I’d followed him to that coffee shop. I was prepared to confront Asher about the security footage, and the fact that he had been the one to break into Lark’s apartment. But it wasn’t the right time.

  “And then, I saw you two together…and, well, I guess curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to know why you guys left me out of this meeting.” I shrugged like it was no big deal, even though it was a very big deal. “I mean, you say you don’t know each other, and I do believe you, Blake. But why wasn’t I invited to this coffee date?”

  Asher and Blake exchanged glances that I would have needed a manual to decode. Then, Blake asked the question that I was sure had been burning a hole in his mind. “Have you ever met Lark?” The question sounded as though it was physically hard for him to ask, as though the words were stuck in his throat like a fur ball.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t know why or how she chose me.”

  I expected Blake to ask more questions, like whether I thought Lark was alive, but he didn’t. Instead he just nodded and stared into his cup of cold coffee.

  Poor guy.

  I wanted to hug him, comfort him in some way. But I didn’t dare. We didn’t know each other, we weren’t friends. I had to keep telling myself that. After reading how Lark lost her virginity to the love of her life, it was hard to act as though Blake and I were strangers.

  The silence became increasingly uncomfortable, and I didn’t know what to say or where to put my hands. Eventually, I just sat on them to stop the nervous fidgeting. Then, since I couldn’t find the right words to soothe Blake’s suffering, I rounded on Asher. He had a lot of explaining to do. And maybe it wasn’t the right time, but then again breaking into Lark’s apartment suggested he might be involved in her disappearance.

  “I watched the security footage,” I told Asher, giving him a pointed glare.

  To his credit, Asher didn’t flinch or even show any guilt. “And?” he prompted

  Reall
y? You know you were the one I saw.

  “And? And?” I sputtered, astounded at his audacity. “And do you want to tell me why you broke into Lark’s apartment? What’s the deal, Asher? If that’s even your real name.”

  He studied me as though I was a bug under a microscope. His expression gave nothing away, which irritated me to no end. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake giving Asher a look I couldn’t interpret. Seriously, it was like these two spoke a silent language that only those with a Y-chromosome understood.

  “I was worried about you,” Asher said evenly. “At first, this seemed like a silly scavenger hunt, and I didn’t think it would lead anywhere. But then…. Raven, things are getting complicated.”

  I met his brown eyes levelly. “Do you know Lark, Asher?” I asked.

  An eternity passed. Honestly, I felt as though I aged decades before he found the courage to admit, “I have met her.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  LARK

  Vaguely aware of David’s questions, I slipped into the memory. Blocking out David’s voice was easy. My obligatory sessions with him were a pain in the ass, so I was practiced in ignoring him. Luckily, it was what I’d been instructed to do. After months of this, I’d learned to let go and become a passenger….

  The small plane swayed in the breeze, and I slid across the soft leather seat. My father’s side was warm and inviting, so I didn’t scoot back. Plus, my new position in the middle expanded my view to include the front window. The tree-line was fifty feet below, stretching like a spiny green carpet. After the millionth mountain passed below us, an unexpected skyline appeared.

  The tall buildings sparkled in the sunlight, beckoning visitors to the hidden gem.

  “Lark, look,” my father instructed unnecessarily. Still, I leaned forward.

  My head tilted. “It’s like a modern Hogwarts.”

  Daddy chuckled and wrapped arm around my shoulders.