The Black Cat Chapter 1

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Lena's voice cracked like a fault line.

The message had been waiting for three hours. Allie did not want to hear it. But she pressed play anyway.

"Allie, I need your help. Something's wrong with a supplier. I don't trust what they're asking. Please come by tonight. I'll explain when you get here."

Then silence. Too tight. Too still.

Allie Grayson was four years and a lifetime past law school. She was twenty-nine, but with eyes that had seen too much. Too young for the grief she carried, too old in the way she looked at the world. She wore her blazer like armor and kept her hair pulled tight as if order could protect her from everything that did not make sense.

Storm-blue eyes scanned the room. She was sturdy and no-nonsense, a brunette like their father, with Texas still in her stride. Mara had been the golden one, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a laugh that could derail a train. Allie had learned to be the steady one. The smart one. The one who stayed behind and picked up the pieces.

The pendant at her throat pressed cold against her skin. Dull silver, blue stone, heavy with memory. She touched it without thinking, ignoring the faint itch it always left behind. It had belonged to Mara. The discomfort was a small price for keeping her close.

The case file on her desk remained open. Her first real courtroom case. A clean fraud investigation. Cut and dry. Judge Raines at ten a.m. tomorrow morning. She was a junior ADA in the fraud division. Spreadsheets, subpoenas, paper trails. Clean work. Logical. She should have been excited, but tomorrow also marked three years since her sister's death, and tonight Lena's voicemail had carved straight through that tidy life like a scalpel.

The grief did not hit like it used to. It pressed quieter now. Deeper. The official report said accident. No foul play. Case closed. But the guardrail had been scorched, and no one ever explained why. Allie had never stopped asking. She had just learned to ask smarter.

She tucked documents into her briefcase. She buttoned her coat, locked her office, and left behind corridors of files and fluorescent light.

A yellow cab rolled to a stop at the curb. Headlights swept over wet pavement. A fine mist hung in the air, not quite rain but enough to dampen surfaces. It smelled faintly of concrete, ozone, and car exhaust. Her own car was still at Lena's bar. She had left it behind after drinks last night.

"The Black Cat," Allie said. She slid into the back seat.

Dallas blurred past the glass. Neon signs blinked overhead. Colors bled into slick pavement. Streetlights strobed across the windshield in rhythmic bursts.

By the time the cab turned into Deep Ellum, music had already reached her. Blues spilled from bar doors and narrow alleys. Laughter drifted from patios crowded despite the cold.

The cab pulled to the curb. Allie paid quickly and stepped out. October air cut through her blazer. Her briefcase hung at her side, heavier now. She looked up at the flickering sign of The Black Cat.

She paused in the doorway. She let her eyes adjust to the dim light before stepping inside. Her heels clicked softly against the scuffed tile as she took in the noise, the haze, and the layered scent of The Black Cat. The bar was half full. A saxophone's last note faded into the murmur of voices.

"Allie." Lena stood behind the bar in boots and jeans, auburn hair pulled back in a messy twist. A worried edge tugged at her smile.

Allie had not realized how much she needed to be seen.

Lena's grin spread wide as she leaned across the counter and pulled her into a quick hug. 

"Look at you, counselor. Navy blazer. Heels. I rarely get the full getup in here. Almost didn't recognize you."

Allie smiled. "Big hearing tomorrow. Figured I'd practice looking important."

Lena laughed and slid a glass across the bar. "Of course you did. And for the record? You look hot. What's your poison tonight, counselor? Water or something with teeth?"

"Water," Allie said, the word falling heavier than she liked. "Need a clear head."

She took the glass, then studied Lena's face. Beneath the grin, her eyes looked tired. Cheeks flushed. Jaw tight.

"You sounded upset in your message. What's going on?"

Lena's hands stilled on the glass she was drying. She set it down carefully. Too carefully. Her eyes flicked toward the door, then back. As if making sure they were still alone.

"Lena." Allie's voice dropped. "What's wrong?"

They had promised not to talk about Mara's death on the anniversary. The first year they had spent the day together, but it had left them hollow. It had left them sadder than before. They had agreed to give it time. They had agreed to grieve apart until they could remember Mara without breaking open.

Now, one day from that date, the call felt wrong. It was too close. It was too heavy. And Allie could not shake the feeling that Lena was holding something back.

Lena's hand brushed the towel at her palm. The knot was dark with rust-colored blood.

"What happened to your hand?"

"Just a knife slip," she said quickly. "Nothing."

The stain looked too deep. Too dark. And Lena would not meet her eyes.

"If it's just supplier trouble, why call me at all?" Allie asked.

Lena tried to laugh, but the sound cracked. "There's something..." Her voice thinned. Her eyes pulled toward the door like a reflex, then snapped back. "About Mara. Something I should have told you sooner." Her fingers twisted the towel tight enough to make the blood seep faster.

Allie's stomach tightened. The glass felt slick in her hand. The pendant burned cold at her throat, tighter than usual, as if it sensed the shift in the air. She resisted the urge to pull it away from her skin.

"What do you mean?"

Lena looked down at her hand. The towel was already seeping through. "You have to promise me you'll keep an open mind."

"That's not a great way to start a conversation."

"I mean it."

Allie nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Not here," Lena whispered. "Let me close up first. We'll talk in the office."

Unease prickled at Allie's neck. One by one, Lena ushered the last patrons out. The jukebox clicked silent. The bartender slipped away through the side door. The Black Cat settled into its closing rhythm. Glasses stacked. Cleaner sharp in the air. A tired jazz record spun behind the bar.

Allie stayed on her stool, her glass untouched. She watched the towel around Lena's hand darken as minutes stretched. The air thickened with everything Lena would not say.

"I'm going to use the restroom," Allie said. "Then we'll talk."

"Sure." Lena managed a smile that did not reach her eyes. "I'll just take the trash out. Be right back."

Allie slipped down the hallway, past the prep counter and stacked crates. The bathroom door clicked shut behind her.

She leaned against the sink and stared at her reflection. Dark circles under her eyes. Hair pulled so tight it looked painful. The pendant caught the light, cold and heavy against her throat.

Three years. Tomorrow would be three years.

She turned on the tap. Cold water rushed over her hands. Then the scream tore through the walls. "Allie!" Raw. Desperate. Unmistakable.

Allie ran.