Chapter 6 - The Visitor in the RainI immediately reached over, flipped off the living room light switch, and pulled Oliver behind the solid oak dining table.
"Stay down," I whispered, pulling a iron fire poker from the hearth stand.
Outside, the crunch of gravel beneath tires signaled a car stopping in the driveway. The engine cut off. Heavy footsteps ascended the wooden steps of the front porch.
A knock echoed through the door—three short taps, a pause, then two long taps.
My heart leaped into my throat.
That was the old secret knock Rachel, our third roommate Maya, and I had used in our college dorm twelve years ago.
I approached the heavy oak door, peering through the stained-glass peephole. Standing on the porch, drenched in rain, wearing a dark hooded raincoat and holding a bloody towel against her left arm, was a woman.
Her face was worn, lined with exhaustion and pain, but her dark eyes were unmistakably Rachel’s.
"Rachel?" I breathed, unlatching the three deadbolts and throwing the door open.
She stumbled inside, collapsing into my arms. The smell of rain, metallic blood, and ozone filled the entry hall.
"Nora..." Rachel gasped, her lips blue from the cold. "Is he... is Oliver here?"
"Mom!" Oliver scrambled out from under the table, throwing his good arm around her waist, weeping hysterically. "Mom! You're alive!"
Rachel fell to her knees on the hardwood floor, sobbing uncontrollably as she pulled Oliver against her chest, kissing his forehead, his hair, his bruised face over and over again. "My baby... my sweet boy... I thought I lost you... I saw the van hit you and I thought—"
"I dragged her out," a deep voice called out from the open doorway.
I whirled around, raising the iron poker.
Standing on the porch was a tall, lean man in a wet leather jacket, holding a silenced pistol lowered at his side. He stepped into the light, pulling down his wet hood.
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It was Marcus Vance—Julian’s younger brother, the black sheep of the Vance family who had walked away from the family business ten years ago to become a private investigator.
"Put the poker down, Nora," Marcus said tiredly, clicking the safety on his weapon and tucking it into his shoulder holster. "I'm the one who pulled Rachel out of Julian's utility van in Gresham three hours ago."
