Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52592 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“I would suggest that you don’t try to be an idiot again,” I warn as I take his gun and search him for another.
“What do you want?” he hisses at me.
“Ah, so you know who I am? I have to admit that’s impressive. Most people don’t.”
“I only know who you are because I saw you that night,” he says.
For a second, I’m taken aback.
Then, as if my memory unlocks in real time, I remember seeing another person in the alley that night. It was a blip, only a flitting silhouette of a man, and my focus was on the gunman and on Elle. But now this brings everything into full focus—Hale Monroe was there.
“I wondered how long it would take before you finally came and confronted me,” he says as if he’s trying to insult my intelligence. “Honestly, I was starting to think that your reputation was just a bunch of hype. All those mafia bosses talk about the Ghost as if he’s some sort of mythical legend with supernatural skills. And yet it took you years to figure out it was me.”
“Trust me, I’ve had a hunch about you all along,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ve just been letting you fester and rot before coming to claim the truth from your putrid mouth.”
“A hunch?” he laughs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I take a seat in the chair across from his desk. This is going to take a few minutes to squeeze out of him. It’s an infection that has been covered up and growing for years now.
“I’m talking about how you had your wife murdered,” I say matter-of-factly. “You had the mother of your child killed in front of your twelve-year-old daughter’s eyes. And I’m here to find out why.”
Hale squirms a bit in his seat as if he’s going to circle back and deny this now, but it’s too late for denial.
“And before you decide that you’ve suddenly forgotten what you just admitted to by being in that alley that night, let me remind you of something,” I say as I strum my fingers on the surface of his desk between us. “I can kill you and your man outside without blinking an eye or making a sound. I can also wipe your security camera footage clean in a matter of seconds with a quick phone call to a friend. I can make it look like you had a mental breakdown and killed your cop friend before killing yourself, all under the weight of guilt that you’ve carried with you for years over the murder of your wife. Or you can fess the fuck up before I decide that this isn’t worth my time.”
“What do you want to know?” he asks, spoken like a true coward who wants to save his own ass.
“Tell me why you were in the alley that night.”
His eyes narrow as he glares at me. Hale is furious at the fact that I have the upper hand and that he finally, finally has to answer for what he’s done.
“I wanted to see that the job was completed,” he says. “I wanted to be sure that it got done correctly.”
“And by correctly, you mean you wanted to see for yourself that your wife was killed?”
“Yes.”
“And that your daughter was spared?”
Hale nods. “I had no desire to hurt Elle, neither back then nor now.”
“You did hurt her. You had her mother killed right in front of her. That was a monstrous thing to do.”
“Monstrous or not, I did what I had to do,” he says.
“Tell me why.”
Detective Monroe has little left to lose at this point. He’s been caught. He knows I can blow his cover or shoot both his legs off if I so choose. I’m the one holding the cards here now, and he’s about to give up the game.
“I had my wife killed because she was going to leave me,” he fesses up.
“Color me surprised,” I sneer sarcastically. “Who would ever want to leave a catch such as yourself? Seems like you took a bit too much offense to that rejection, though. Most men’s egos aren’t bruised enough to have their wives murdered.”
“I didn’t just have her killed because she was leaving me,” he glares. “Elle’s mother had all the dirt on me. She knew about all the dealings I had with the mafia, all the books I cooked, and all the crimes I turned a blind eye to. I confided all of those secrets to my wife because I needed an outlet to vent to. It got stressful trying to play several sides at once and keep it all to myself.”
I’ve known a lot of weak men in my life, but this guy really takes the cake. Not only is he corrupt and crooked, and not only is he a morally vapid wife-murderer, but he’s also weak as fuck.