Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
She looked vaguely nauseous.
“I hope it isn’t him either.”
For your sake.
They said their goodbyes, got in the SUV, and he was digging out his phone when Lucinda said, “I apologize for how Thea started that. It wasn’t appropriate, and I inadvertently fed into it. Though, I have to admit, sharing about your good looks was part of my pitch to get her to talk to you.”
“It’s okay,” he muttered, distracted, but still processing the pleasure he felt that she said out loud she thought he was good-looking, at the same time seeing he had a missed call from Moran.
“Was she assaulted?”
The feeble tone of her voice made his attention race to her.
“She was, wasn’t she?” she whispered, her skin pale, her eyes speeding over his face.
It wasn’t professional, but then again, neither were the endearments he’d been using, and they had both moved out of the strictly professional space last night at dinner.
Touch was another matter.
However, with the look on her face, he couldn’t stop himself from cupping her jaw and leaning toward her.
“Lucinda—”
“Just tell me.”
“She was raped.”
She swallowed, closed her eyes, and turned toward the windshield.
He slid his hand to her neck, gave it a squeeze, and he didn’t like it at all, but he then had no choice but to let it slide away.
She opened her eyes.
“How’d she die, Rus?” she asked the windshield.
“The autopsy hasn’t been done yet, but preliminarily, we believe it was significant trauma to the head.”
“Violently,” she whispered despondently. “She died violently.”
Yes, she did.
His phone vibrated in his hand.
He looked down at it.
He wasn’t going to take it, but it was Moran again.
“I have to take this, honey,” he said gently.
“Do it,” she replied shortly.
He took the call. “Lazarus.”
“I know you’re interviewing someone, but you need to cut it short and come to the station right away.”
“What’s up?”
“Jace and Jess found Dakota.”
Holy shit.
Moran wasn’t finished.
“And Brittanie’s dad.”
Well.
Damn.
THIRTEEN
Not A Subject
He had another reason to like Fret County’s woman-behind-the-sheriff when he came into the station with Lucinda at his side, Polly intercepted her while Rus kept moving.
He looked back, and he felt his gut lurch, because she didn’t appear ticked or stymied to be left behind.
As she had been the whole ride there, she was lost in the knowledge of how Brittanie had spent the last hours of her life.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
“Okay,” she replied woodenly, her eyes on him, but he knew she didn’t see him.
And his gut lurched again.
He wanted to be with her.
But he had work to do for Brittanie.
The story of his life when it came to women.
He made his way to Moran’s office.
The door was open, he stood in it and knocked, seeing Moran behind his desk and on the phone.
The man looked up, motioned for him to come in, then motioned for him to close the door.
“Right, right,” he said into his phone as Rus did as motioned and sat in a chair in front of Moran. “Lazarus is here. Yeah. Okay. We’re on it. Let me know if there’s more. Later.”
He touched his screen and looked at Rus.
“Fuck, man, everything is exploding.”
“I want to know, but Lucinda is out there, and she needs a ride to her mother’s.”
“On it,” he mumbled and picked up his desk phone.
“I had to tell her how Brittanie died. She’s not in a good place.”
Moran’s gaze came to him, he nodded, then said into the phone, “Get Polly to take Cin Bonner to her mom. I want Polly to do it. And find a way to let her know that Cin just found out how Brittanie Iverson died. She needs to handle this with care.” Pause then, “Great.”
And he put the phone in the cradle.
“Where are Jace and Jesse, Dakota and Gary Iverson?” Rus asked.
“Cade showed. He’s talking to his boys somewhere. Dakota and Gary are in separate interview rooms, waiting for us to speak with them. They’re pissed as shit.”
“Please tell me the Bohannan twins did not do something to fuck all this by abducting the brother and father of the victim in order to bring them in,” Rus begged.
“No, I mean they’re pissed as shit Brittanie was killed. They were holed up in some hunting cabin, it’s owned by a friend of Gary Iverson. No cell service. No internet. Apparently, they’ve been mostly getting drunk and shooting bottles and doing shit I don’t know, because I have a job and a life. They came in of their own accord. Which is good Jace and Jess talked them into it, because, as I noted, they both got guns and they both got a reason to hunt anyone down who might have looked at Brittanie wrong and shoot him in the face. And right now, since they just found out she’s been murdered, they’re all hepped up to do that.”
Rus blew out a breath and sat back in his chair.