Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“No.” Finality rang in my voice. “There’s nothing left to physically find... except for a liar.” I turned to him, my lips stretched in a mirthless, bloodless smile. “You say you were in the library, Charles? Well, I really hope that’s true, because at this point, anyone who lies to me about that night goes right to the top of my list.”
He lurched back, brows flying to his hairline. Then, he laughed. “Oh, wow, good one, Sue.” He patted my shoulder. “You had me going there with the menacing voice and the crazy eyes. Obviously, I didn’t kill your mother. I didn’t have a single interaction with her that lasted longer than hello and goodbye.”
Said crazy eyes tracked him across the room.
“All right, I got to get going,” he said, collecting his things, “but I hope you get to the bottom of all this stuff. See you Thursday.”
“See you then.”
I let him go.
Only when the door shut behind him did I take out my phone and dial his number.
“Hello, Mrs. Kim.”
The chill wafting from his end of the call gave my ear frostbite. “Hello, Officer Davis. I know you’re not too happy with me right now, so let me skip right ahead to the apologies. I’m sorry for insinuating that you take bribes, and I’m definitely sorry you got rushed by a mob.”
“What about telling the world I was Officer Cop-A-Feel!” he burst out. “I’ve been put on review!”
I cringed. “I’m sorry about that too. First thing in the morning, I’ll walk into the police station and tell your captain I made all that up.”
“You—! Wait, what?” His voice lowered a decibel. “You will?”
“Of course I will,” I said easily. “I want to foster open lines of communication between me, you, and the detectives. That can’t happen if everyone sees me as a crazy-eyed, lying witch.”
“Open communication? What on earth are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about seeing the chart or list or whatever it was that the other officers put together for that night,” I said. “They came up with ten names and ten people who went upstairs and passed by the different officers at their stations—”
“Just a minute—”
“—but without context, it doesn’t mean anything to you guys. You don’t know what’s where or which rooms are which. That’s why I need to see it because I’m the one who’ll know who’s lying. For example.” I raised my voice over Davis’s second attempt to interrupt. “Charles Layton said he left the party and went to the library where he stayed until after my mother was killed. But the library dead-ends a short hallway in the east wing. The only way to get to it is by going through the hall two passages down from where my bedroom is. I need to know if the officer guarding that hallway is the one who saw him, because if they didn’t, he’s lying.”
There was a pause.
“Are you finished?” he asked, voice flat.
“Yep.”
“Good, then I can get straight to telling you no. All evidence collected is now material evidence in a murder trial. You’re not getting anywhere near it.”
I wasn’t fazed. “You might want to rethink that since you’re putting the wrong woman on trial.”
“Ms. Thorne had means, motive, and the murder weapon in her purse. What more will it take to convince you?”
“She didn’t have motive, and literally anyone could’ve put that knife in her purse—like the twenty-seven other people who also had opportunity.”
“Twenty-seven? What are you—? Hold on,” he cried. “You’re not suggesting that—!”
“One of your fellow cop buddies who were just as free to wander around my home, had just as much opportunity to kill my mother, and were the obvious choices to plant their murder weapon in the first bag they searched.”
“Where are you getting this shit from?” His shout made my ears ring. “The men and women I serve with are above reproach! They would never—!”
“Fuck’s sake, Davis, you’re not this dumb!” Just like that, I was shouting too. “You’re smart, you’re observant, and you actually care about this community and the people you swore to serve. Well, two of those people were murdered and another one is about to lose everything for a crime she didn’t commit, so isn’t it about time you did something about that!
“My mother and Mrs. Prado were killed by the same person, right? That’s what you believe, isn’t it!” I demanded. “But you know Courtney was nowhere near Mrs. Prado, don’t you.”
It wasn’t a question, but I waited for him to answer anyway.
“Ms. Thorne... is not a suspect in that crime,” he gritted out. “She had a rock-solid alibi. She was serving customers all morning.”
“There the fuck you go.”
“There the fuck I go nowhere,” Davis flung back. “It’s only conjecture that those crimes may be related, and conjecture isn’t proof. We—”
“No, not we. You. You know they’re connected. You know that two women don’t up and get murdered in the same place two weeks apart, and it has nothing to do with each other. You know something’s wrong, and you know that some sweet single mom who spends her days baking cookies has nothing to do with it. You know,” I barked. “So stop parroting bullshit you don’t even believe, and do something about it.