Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
The detective smiles. “In hindsight, people think they’re a lot smarter than they truly are. I imagine this was your client’s first murder. I’m sure he freaked out, and he knew the police were on the way. The kid panicked.” The kid wasn’t a kid anymore, and he was less prone to panicking.
“The judge and the prosecuting attorney were corrupt.”
“I’m aware of that,” the detective says, anger burning in his weary eyes. “In fact, I’m one of the people who investigated both. And you know what? There was never any evidence that they threw the trial against your client. You’ve read the trial transcripts, correct?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“The judge ruled against Alexei’s attorney several times, who also didn’t do a very good job. But it doesn’t mean they were bribed. It looked like a fair trial to me, and the primary evidence is the knife. Your client panicked, Counselor. If anybody’s offering you a deal, you should probably take it.” His voice is sure.
Apparently, he can testify not only as to the case against Alexei, but the case against the judge and the prosecutor. I think through my options. “You don’t think Alexei was set up. You’re not even willing to consider that possibility?”
The detective shakes his head. “I find absolutely no evidence of that. What I do find is plenty of evidence that your client murdered David Fairfax out of jealousy or ego or both. I don’t really know, and I don’t really care.”
I question him for another half an hour, but he doesn’t give me any more that I can use. I stand. “I appreciate your help, Detective.” He actually seems like a pretty nice guy.
He stands. “Anytime, Miss Mooncrest. I have to tell you from the investigation I’ve conducted on your client, you need to be very careful.”
I blink. “Why is that?”
“He’s ambitious and he’s strong, and he has no problem killing. If I were you, I’d pass this case off to somebody else.”
It’s too late for that. “I appreciate your warning, but I really do think my client is innocent.”
The detective bursts out laughing. “Then you’re in the wrong business, sweetheart. Trust me.”
TWENTY-SIX
Ella
My backpack slung over one arm, I hustle through various crowds to reach my favorite coffee shop. I have no idea why Rosalie texted me earlier to meet here this morning, but I trust her instincts. I keep to crowds, like she told me, until I reach the correct block.
I’m wearing jeans and a light sweater, since I think it’s going to rain, and with my Keds and my backpack, I pass for a student. That works for me. I stop and wait for the light to turn before crossing the crosswalk, my mind spinning.
Her text that morning had held certain urgency, and I’m concerned for her. I’ve already talked to Alana, and we have a plan to get Rosalie out of the country if we need to do so. We’ll have to rely on Thorn, and I don’t like that, though Alana seems perfectly comfortable with the fact. Of course, the guy’s in love with her, and she’s safe.
That, of course, is what keeps him safe. From me.
I’m concentrating on reaching the coffee shop when I hear the opening of a door that causes a warning to tick down my spine. I pivot to see a van door slide open. Everything happens too quickly for me to grasp. Two men jump out, grab me, and yank me into the vehicle. The door slams shut, and we’re instantly driving into traffic.
I blink several times, shocked by how quickly that just happened. The van floor is cold beneath my butt. Two mask-wearing men face me, while there’s a driver up ahead. I quickly scoot away from them until my back hits the far wall. Gazing at them, I hold still.
The men take off the masks, and I blink. I don’t recognize one, but the other one is scum-sucking Alexei Sokolov.
“What in the blazes are you doing?” I partially lean forward.
He smiles. “You’re safe. Just take a deep breath.”
“Safe?” I sputter, reaching for the gun at my ankle hidden beneath my jeans.
He almost casually grasps my wrists before securing my weapon. He looks at the small .22 caliber. “This is a tiny gun.”
“I know what it is,” I say. “I need a smaller weapon if I’m going to fit it at my calf. Rosalie is going to kill you for kidnapping me.”
His expression doesn’t change. The guy next to him is big and burly and looks like he could break a car in half if needed.
I lean back against the far wall again and pull my knees up. I’ll be able to kick from this position if necessary, though I have serious doubts about whether I could take both of these guys, not to mention the silent driver up front. “Why are you kidnapping me?”