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)
Rus wasn’t sure that was the way to go.
They were contemporaries, though. Jesse was a built, good-looking guy who clearly had his shit tight.
Dakota was probably the way he was, not only because his mother was who she was, but because he’d been bullied at school.
The cool guy gives you attention, you don’t act like a dick.
You act like the cool guy.
“Now, I came in here because you’d calmed down and said you were ready to help,” Jesse continued. “Are you not calm? I mean, we’re trying to find who did this to your sister, and you can be a part of that. What doesn’t help, is you being a dick and punching air and getting pissed at me. I need you to talk to me, Dakota.”
That did it.
He wanted to be the cool guy.
Dakota pulled out the chair and sat down.
Jesus.
He’d never seen it go down that easy when someone was that riled up.
“Fucking hell,” Rus muttered.
“I know. It’s uncanny. They’re goddamned savants with this shit,” Moran muttered at his side.
“It’s just, she’s my sister, dude.” Dakota tried to sound like he was explaining his behavior, but there was a whine to it.
Jesse nodded understandingly, two cool guys bonding.
“I get it, bud. Seriously, the worst. I feel you.”
“Yeah,” Dakota huffed out.
“When’d you last see your sister?” Jesse asked.
“I dunno.” That was sullen. “Fuck, she told me she was gonna help me find a job. Fuck!” he exploded.
“Dakota,” Jesse said warningly.
“You know, she had it so together. Sweet crib. Sweet job. Cool shit.” Dakota’s small eyes narrowed on Jesse. “Why’d your brother dump her, hunh? She was happy with Jace. Real fuckin’ happy.”
“We’re not talking about Jace. We’re talking about Brittanie. When did you last see her?”
“Went by her crib when that asshole canned me. Three weeks ago. Said I didn’t wanna go back to living with Mom. She got me. Man, did she. She said I could crash on her couch, and she’d ask around to see if she could get me something to tide me over until I could, you know, get my career back on track.”
Rus and Moran exchanged a glance on the words career back on track.
“I said I needed a vacation. I was gonna hook up with Dad and chill out. She told me not to go. She said she’d buy a bed for that extra room where Keyleigh used to stay. Said we could be roommates for a while. Did I take her up on that shit? No. I coulda saved her.”
Jesse further proved his mettle by keeping a straight face at that.
“Did she talk about anyone she was seeing? Anyone who maybe she was having an issue with? Someone who was causing her problems?”
“You think I’d go off with Dad if she did?” he demanded.
Yes, Jesse did. So did Rus and Moran.
Jesse didn’t give that away either.
“She could have tried to blow it off,” Jesse noted.
“She didn’t say dick to me,” Dakota returned. Then he stabbed the table with his pointed forefinger. “I’ll tell you this shit, you listening?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He kept tough guy stabbing and talking. “You said she was killed at that motel. My sister wouldn’t go to that motel. She was class, man. Jace knows it. You know it. Everyone knows it. She was a dancer at Bon Amie. She wasn’t a skank. She wasn’t my mom. She wouldn’t go to that motel. Someone had to drag her there. She probably died going through the door to a room, it was so beneath her.”
And again with the motel.
But she checked in.
Not in distress.
“I want to talk to the desk clerk,” Rus said just as Moran said, “We gotta go back to the desk clerk.”
They looked at each other.
Then Moran flipped the switch that muted the audio and they turned around to the viewing glass to the other interrogation room.
Jace, an exact replica of Jess, was leaning against the wall, ankles crossed, arms crossed, chin in his throat, eyes on the man slumped at the table, weeping.
Momentarily, the thought of Sabrina meeting one of these two guys skimmed through Rus’s head.
He’d still hate sharing all the love she had to give.
But at least he wouldn’t wake up in a sweat worried someone might hurt her. A threat came to their door, Rus could convince himself just looking at these two, they could vaporize it with a hard stare.
Moran flipped on the audio, and they heard the weeping.
“Mr. Iverson,” Jace said low. “I need you to pull it together and talk to me. When did you last see Britt?”
“You shouldn’t have left her,” the man sobbed into the table. “You shoulda kept her safe.”
Rus got tight, and he hadn’t even met Jace yet.
He felt Moran do the same.
Worst of that, he watched Jace do it.
These two fucking wastes of space?