Page 4 of Deadly Sins: Envy

I rolled over, blinking into the darkness. “Yeah. What time is it?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll check.”

The calls that came in during the wee hours of morning were the ones that worried me the most. I released my phone from the charging station, squinted at the name on the screen, and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Gran?” I said. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

For the last few years, my grandmother had been dating Alfred. He was the father of Park City’s police chief, Drake Cooper, whom everyone called Coop. We had a long, somewhat abrasive history, but over time, he seemed to tolerate me more than he had at first.

“Hi, honey,” Gran said. “So sorry to bother you in the middle of the night.”

“It’s no bother. What’s going on?”

“I’m in New Orleans with Alfred. We flew out to see his granddaughter sing in the music festival here. We believe she’s been kidnapped.”

“When?”

I heard muffled voices in the background.

“Gran, who else is there with you?” I asked.

“Your friend Coop.”

Coop said, “Who’s on the phone?”

Gran replied, “It’s Sloane. I called her.”

“Why?” he asked. “We don’t need her help.”

“You damn well do need it,” she said, “which is why I called her.”

“Gran, put Coop on the phone, please,” I said.

Coop and Gran exchanged words for a moment, and then he took the phone.

“I don’t have time to talk, Sloane,” he said. “Cordelia shouldn’t have called you.”

“Well, she did. So, tell me what’s going on.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m handling it.”

“I’m sure you are. Tell me anyway. You went to see your niece tonight at the music festival. Then what happened?”

He huffed a sigh of frustration. “We grabbed a drink with her at one of the bars. She stayed for a while and then headed out. The rest of us returned to my brother Dale’s house. About ten minutes ago, the doorbell rang. I opened it and found a note stuck to the front door.”

“What did it say?”

“It was addressed to Dale specifically and said:Twenty-four hours, ten thousand dollars, if you ever want to see Willow alive again.”

“Anything else?”

“Instructions were given about the time and place they were to meet up.”

“What were the instructions?”

“Dale is to meet at St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 at midnight at Marie Laveau’s tomb. He’s to come alone. No police. If he suspects the police are there, the deal’s off.”

It sounded like every other standard ransom note.