Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I nod. “Good idea. At least to get his whereabouts at the time of the murders.”
“How’s the club going? Anything new?”
I take a deep breath, hoping he doesn't dig too hard on how I got the info I’m about to reveal. “Devereaux said the night of Ginger’s murder, she left Club Greed just a little after midnight.”
Finn stares at me. “Where did she go for three hours?”
I shrug. “Maybe a boyfriend’s house?”
“There’s no boyfriend that’s come forward,” he says.
“Perhaps she had a mystery man she was seeing?” I don’t want to tell him about my theory on Brandon, because I know Finn will tell me not to follow him for safety reasons, and I know I can handle myself.
We spend a few minutes going over where we are in the case and finish our meeting.
I hop back into my car, and once I’m on the main highway, I head toward the address I have for Brandon.
It’s a nice subdivision with houses that all look similar. Wrap-around front porches. A nice large bay window at the front of the home. Wood-framed and cookie-cutter. I spot Brandon’s enormous black truck in his driveway, and he’s in it.
There’s a bumper sticker on the back that reads, ‘The closer you get, the slower I drive.’
He pulls out and drives down the road, and I follow, staying several car lengths behind him. I couldn’t have timed this better if I tried. One more minute and I would have missed him.
I tail him like I learned in the academy and stop when he pulls into the parking area of Danbury Park which runs along the river.
It’s a pleasant Sunday afternoon, and I wonder if he has plans for a cookout.
Brandon parks his truck on the south end of the lot, and I pull into the lot, keeping a safe distance between us. I’d hate for him to see me here. I could always say I’m here to hike since there are many trails that weave through the wooded area just off the west side of the park.
No one would ever buy that story since I’m dressed in jean shorts, a blue hoodie, and a pair of Roxy sneakers that would never work for hiking. It doesn’t matter.
I’m not leaving my car. I can just lurk from afar.
Brandon doesn’t appear to be getting out of his vehicle either.
A full five minutes goes by before I spot the blue and pink hair of Sugar strolling up to his truck. She hops in the front seat, and then Brandon pulls out of his parking spot.
What is going on?
Why the secrecy?
I follow them, maintaining my distance as he drives his truck through town. They stop at a grocery store, and I wait in the lot, keeping his truck in view as they do some shopping.
Once they’re back on the move, I follow as Brandon pulls into Sugar’s neighborhood.
I watch as they go into Sugar’s cottage-style home. I figure they’ll be in there for a while so I decide to call it a day.
I pull into a gas station just outside her development and run in for a bottle of water. When I walk back outside, I spot Guy Adams near my car.
“Ah, if it’s not my old partner,” he says once I’m close enough.
I want to roll my eyes at him just because I dislike him that much. “This isn’t your normal beat,” I say.
“I’m just checking on a few things, but you’re a long way from home,” he says with a smirk.
I shrug. “Had a few errands.”
“Really?” He raises a thinning brow. “Like what?”
I hold my chin up. “None of your business.”
Guy’s been a bully his whole life. It’s all he knows. This man gets off on making other people feel as tiny as his prick. They say bullies will cower if you stand up to them, but Guy just comes on harder and stronger. I’ve stood up to him every day I’ve known him, and I swear he feeds off the confrontation. But mostly he’s harmless, just a lot of hot air behind that bravado.
I’m sure it’s why he became a cop.
I push past him, opening my door and sliding in. He moves to the front of my vehicle, placing both palms flat on the hood of my car.
I honk my horn.
His eyes blaze into mine, and he laughs. “Have a good one,” he says as I drive away, holding my hand out the window to give him the finger.
Chapter 15
Devereaux
* * *
“And that’s why the cops need to be doing their job and figuring out who killed these girls,” Greer says as we sit down to a family brunch at her place.
I’m trying my best to stay focused, but my mind keeps going back to Swan.
When I saw Adele tying up Swan’s corset, cinching her breasts together to create the most lickable cleavage, I nearly had a coronary.