Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But Lindsay and I bought that atlas after we got married. We had this idea that one day, after our kids were grown and out of the house and we had some expendable income, we would turn to a random page and buy a plane ticket there, no questions asked.
Of course, it never happened.
But before I opened the Switzerland map, I turned to a random page, just like Lindsay and I were going to do.
And I landed on a map of France.
Lindsay always wanted to go. Not just to Paris, but to the outlying regions as well. The places where there would be fewer tourists, where we could truly soak in the culture.
I sadly traced my fingers over those areas on the map—mourning the memories that were never created—before finally turning to the map of Switzerland.
“Jason?” Blake asks.
I snap out of my thoughts. “Sorry.”
“What is it?”
I run my hands through my hair. “Why didn’t I see this? Normandy. Burgundy. They’re both provinces in France. Ralph is Ronny Burgundy. I was at his place, only I didn’t know it.”
Blake tilts his head. “So he changed his name but left a hint.”
“Fuck,” I say. “The Facebook profile. R. Lyon. Lyon’s not a province, but it’s a French city. My God. All the hints. And all on purpose, no doubt, unless he just likes France. Or maybe he’s of French descent.” I shake my head. “He was leading me right to him.”
Blake raises an eyebrow. “How do you know this guy? You said he’s a student in your anatomy lab?”
“Yeah. And he’s older. About my age. Fuck.” I rub at my forehead. “Why didn’t I see this?”
“No one would’ve seen it.”
“I didn’t even know much about Lindsay’s high school boyfriend. All she told me was that it was a serious relationship, but it ended badly. And that they had to move because of it. She may have told me his name a while back, but I’m not the jealous type. I didn’t remember it. I only remembered the name when Lindsay’s parents mentioned it, and then I contacted one of Lindsay’s old friends from high school, Rebecca Tate. She led me to the president of their senior class, a guy named Ralph Parker.”
“His name was Ralph too?”
“Yeah. And now I’m seeing what happened. He wanted another R name, probably thought of the big man on campus during high school, so he used that name… What the fuck is wrong with my brain? I should’ve seen all of this coming a mile away.”
Blake shakes his head. “There’s no way you could’ve seen it, so quit blaming yourself. Ralph isn’t exactly an uncommon name.”
But Blake’s words fall on deaf ears. I’ve been blaming myself for so long, it’s second nature to me.
“So if Ralph is the same person as your wife’s ex, who was obsessed with her—”
I get to my feet. “Oh my God!”
Blake narrows his eyes. “What? What is it now?”
“It’s all so clear.” I pace around the interrogation table. “Ralph told me that I didn’t deserve Angie. At least, that’s what I thought he meant, but that’s not what he said.”
“What are you saying?”
I slam my hands onto the table. “When I went to see him in the hospital, he said, ‘you never deserved her.’”
“And you thought he was talking about Angie.”
“Yeah, of course I did. Because Angie told me he came on to her, was blackmailing her. I figured it had something to do with the Steel money, but…”
Blake sighs. “Jason, I think this case just got a lot more complicated.”
“If Ralph Normandy and Ronny Burgundy are one and the same person, and he’s telling me I never deserved my wife…”
“You’re going to need proof,” Blake says. “You can’t accuse the man of murder without proof.”
“I have proof.”
“What proof?”
“An old friend of Ronny’s who died recently. Some of his old journals and a letter that Ronny wrote to him. His younger brother sent it all to me. The handwriting on it and on Lindsay’s suicide note are very similar.”
“You need an expert to prove that, and even an expert can never be a hundred percent sure.”
“Then I’ll get an expert.”
“All right. Let’s simmer down just a bit.” He gestures to my chair, which I take. “Right now, we have to tell Detective Mann what you were doing outside Ralph’s house last night. And I need to know too, Jason, why the hell did you go during the middle of the night? That doesn’t look good.”
“Because that’s when I got the call from Tom Chapman. That’s the brother of Ronny’s friend who’s dead. And I guess I just…” I rub my forehead. “I thought I was going to the home of the man who murdered my wife. And damn…”
“Jason…”
“This asshole is accusing me of something I didn’t do. He had me arrested, for God’s sake.” My lip trembles, but I keep a straight face. “I didn’t beat him up.”