Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
I’d peeked at her twice on the drive over, and she was still on her knees beside the dog, though the second time she had her rolling cart next to her.
“What’s going on?” Sergeant Daniels asked as he came to a stop inside my office door, unable to come all the way in because John was blocking him from entering farther.
I almost didn’t want to tell him.
I was getting that feeling a lot lately, though.
Ever since I’d realized that the damn woman was living right next to me, the one that was now under surveillance thanks to her brother, was also the same woman that I’d spent a singular fantastic moment with.
It was like the universe kept throwing us together for a reason, and I never ignored my gut.
I knew that she was meant to be in my life.
“Her shelter dog died,” I replied neutrally.
I hoped that my sorrow didn’t leech into my voice.
I hated that she was crying right now.
I hated even more that I was watching her cry over a goddamn monitor instead of holding her in my arms and comforting her.
“Didn’t she just get that dog like, what, a month ago?” he asked.
“Yes,” I muttered.
Not that that should matter.
I’d seen her bond with the damn dog.
And fuck, why did she adopt one so old?
It was like she was setting herself up for the heartbreak.
“Then what’s the big deal?” he asked.
Irritation plucked at my nerves, and I had to hold back the automatic response that seemed to be coming to my lips faster and faster lately.
“Fuck you” seemed to be two of my favorite words.
“Have you gotten anything of consequence?” he asked when I didn’t bother to reply.
If I had, I might very well say something I couldn’t take back.
I gritted my teeth, but luckily John saved me from having to answer, which would have been a dead giveaway that I was pissed as hell.
“There’s nothing here, Sarge,” John said, surprising the two of us. “The woman is clean as a whistle. She goes to church on Sundays. She goes to volunteer at the shelter in town now. She adopts old dogs that she knows are going to die soon. She fuckin’ rounds up her change everywhere she goes to donate to anything they throw in front of her face. She’s never met a stranger she didn’t like. She smiles all the fuckin’ time. She barely ever leaves her apartment. There’s literally nothing here. This is the wrong girl, and you’re wasting valuable resources on focusing on a woman that’s not the killer here. I know that you’re focusing so hard because of who her brother is, but seriously. This is not your girl.”
Sergeant Daniels really was a smart guy, and I watched as the facts hit him in the face. Facts we’ve been throwing at him for a month.
“I know.” He sighed. “I’m getting this push down from the top to find something, anything, and I agree with you. I know she didn’t do it. But I don’t have a choice.”
Daniels left, leaving John and me alone.
“Crying killing you?” he asked.
John didn’t have access to the visual feed, but he had access to the audio.
Which still chapped my fucking ass.
“Literally ripping my fuckin’ heart out,” I said. “I can hear her crying through the wall.”
“Who’d she call to get the dog out for her?” he wondered.
He was right.
There was no way that she was picking him up.
“She used her cart thing.” I rubbed at my face.
“The one she ordered online when she didn’t get the old one back?” he asked.
“Yep.” I sighed. “Rolled him out with a baby blanket covering him like he was sleeping. Some man that was running down the road stopped to help her get him into that POS Jeep.”
She was still driving the Jeep because, like her cart, her car was still impounded to be used as evidence.
I’d seen her make two car payments on it and not complain to anyone about it in the last month, which only solidified my assurance that she was not the bad guy in this scenario.
Who wouldn’t complain about making car payments on a car that they couldn’t use? I know that I would.
“Any luck on the lead you tracked down?” I asked.
“No,” he sighed. “The body they found in the Amazon box in Chicago was a disgruntled husband who decided to vacuum seal his fake doll and ship it to Amazon with a note that said ‘you’re next’ in it because they refused to give him his money back on a broken chair he’d purchased.”
“Great,” I sighed. “I followed up again with the night manager. After we watched all of the footage, I was able to talk to the man that’d moved the box into the locker. He didn’t see anything suspicious. I tracked the package all the way back to the original facility. The facility gave me access to the entire process, and the ice maker that was packed in that box was actually an ice maker. The box was completely sealed, not opened, and nothing disturbed, when the man packed it. So whatever happened to the senator’s side piece happened between being packaged and it arriving at the facility where she picked it up. I’ve followed up with all of the drivers from there to here. All of them report that they don’t remember, and I tend to believe them. After hearing of the thousands of packages they distribute and move a week, I can see it.”