Gridlock: A Ryan Lock Novel by Sean Black

into a wide grin. ‘She’s my bitch. Isn’t she, Ty?’
    Lock shot Ty a look.
    ‘Dude, you might not want your sister or Wendy to hear you using that word,’ Ty said.
    Kevin looked puzzled. ‘You used it.’
    ‘Yeah, Ty, you use it all the time,’ Lock said, laughing.
    ‘I know. But I shouldn’t. It’s disrespectful.’
    Kevin’s head cocked to one side as he thought this over. ‘Okay. So I won’t say it again.’ Once more he went back to his show.
    If Kevin was troubled by all these changes, he didn’t seem to be showing it. Lock wondered if Raven had overplayed the effect that relocating temporarily would have on him.
    The sound of footsteps on the stairs made him turn around. She was wearing boot-cut jeans, a plain black T-shirt and a pair of sneakers. She had removed any last vestiges of makeup and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which emphasized her natural beauty. He caught Ty staring at her, slack-jawed.
    She smiled hesitantly at Lock. ‘I heard you talking to Ty earlier about blending into the background. It’s not exactly what I’m used to doing but I thought now might be a good time to give it a try.’
    The way she looked, Lock wasn’t sure she was capable of disappearing into the background. ‘Ready?’ he said, after a moment.
    She nodded, and turned to Kevin. ‘Best behaviour, okay?’
    ‘Sure,’ Kevin grumbled.
    She walked over and gave him a hug, then followed Lock, who was standing by the front door. ‘Now I’m ready.’

14
     
    The remaining photographers camped outside the house kept a respectful distance as Lock emerged into the bright sunshine with Raven. News of his confrontation with Raul, the paparazzo who’d pursued them on the freeway, had spread. They got off a few shots but left it at that, and Lock used the Range Rover’s powerful engine to quickly lose the one photographer who made a half-hearted attempt at following them.
    The place where Raven directed her business mail was a small drop-in store in a nearby strip mall. The drive took less than ten minutes and passed in silence, which didn’t surprise him. She had probably experienced more white-hot fear over the past forty-eight hours than many people did in a lifetime. A narrowly avoided assault or rape in a parking lot and a body in the trunk of the car were bad enough – single events that might well lead to a rippling anxiety capable of overwhelming a human being’s ability to function. But, Lock guessed, what was really spooking Raven now was the knowledge that someone had been inside her home. Burglary was seen by the law as a crime against property. In reality, it was far more than that. The intruder had gifted the dress but stolen any shred of her belief in her home as a sanctuary. It would take a long time for that to return, if it ever did.
    He glanced at her. The side of her face was pressed against the cool of the window and her eyes were closed. He thought about asking her how she was but stopped himself. Right now the best thing he could do was his job. Anyone who was being threatened needed, above all else, to see the person charged with their security alert and focused.
    Inside the mailbox store, he watched as Raven took out the key from her purse, with a slight tremor in her hand. Then she stepped back. Cindy’s head had been found jammed into a vending machine and the last time Raven had opened the trunk of her car she had found the matching torso. The mailbox wasn’t big enough to hold a head, but he sensed that she still felt nervous.
    ‘You want me to open it?’ he asked her.
    Behind them the tiny lobby of the Mailboxes R Us store was empty.
    ‘Sure,’ she said, handing him the key.
    Inside there were maybe a dozen letters. He held them up. ‘Shall I check them?’
    She stared at the floor. ‘No, it’s fine.’
    He handed them over and watched as she rifled through them. ‘Anything interesting?’
    Her eyes creased with concentration as she kept flicking. ‘Doesn’t look