Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“You can have it if you want,” I said.
She made a face. “No, thanks. Osterhägen tastes like swill.” She hesitated. “What?”
The smile on my face must have set her on edge. “Nothing,” I said. “You just didn’t strike me as a connoisseur of beer.”
She didn’t respond. Instead, she retrieved the half-eaten burger and sat at the empty spot beside me at the dining table, making a production out of finishing her meal.
“Are you wanting to look at more photos?” I asked.
“Yes.”
It was nice to have a witness who was proactive. She was a victim, but she didn’t seem to dwell in self-pity, which often happened. In my experience, most witnesses were career criminals and weren’t much better than the people they were hiding from.
The database was still running in the background of my laptop where she’d paused it. I minimized the two other case files I had open, first the one on Driskell, and then the one I hadn’t looked at in months. I’d opened it by mistake, but when her cold hands gripped my forearm, I wondered if maybe I’d done it subconsciously. Her account of the suspect had given me a sense of terrible familiarity I’d ignored at the time.
“Wait.” Her gaze was fixed on my screen. “Go back to that.”
Dread formed in the pit of my stomach and traveled upward to tighten my chest when I reopened the file on Frey.
“You’ve seen him before?” Part of me hoped her answer was no because anything else meant her life was going to get much more complicated.
“His hair’s different, but that’s him.”
Her conviction was undeniable as she peered at the picture, the one that had been taken several years ago in an interrogation room. Frey wouldn’t be in the mug shot collection. He’d never been booked.
“You’re sure?”
Her eyes were the most vibrant blue as she gazed up at me. “Who is he?”
“Laurel, are you sure?”
“Yes. As sure as I can be from a picture.” Her hands were still wrapped on my arm like she didn’t realize they were there.
“The name he was using at the time this picture was taken was Frey. He’s the man who killed my partner.” I had to remind myself to tack it on. “Allegedly.”
I didn’t just believe it; I fucking knew. Too bad there wasn’t a shred of evidence to tie him to Hannah’s murder.
“What?” The word was tight and weak from her lips.
“My partner was securing a house we’d seized when Frey showed up. He must not have known we’d taken possession. She hauled him in for questioning, and he wasn’t too happy about that. But since we didn’t have anything to hold him on, he was released, and the next morning she was found dead in her apartment.”
I knew I should stop talking, but I couldn’t. She had that effect, eroding my control.
“Frey left Hannah to die slowly and painfully with an untraceable bullet in her stomach. He vanished overnight like a fucking ghost. No fingerprints or DNA from the murder scene, no witnesses, no hits on facial recognition. All I have is one picture from the security camera in the interrogation room,” I said. “And you.”
Her grip tightened on my arm.
“Now that I’ve identified him, what happens?” she said. “I get to go home?”
I’d let her operate under the idea that she could go back to her life once this was over for too long. “When we catch him, you testify.” It was time to stop avoiding it. “You’ll go into WITSEC, which means a new identity and a new life.”
“What? No.” Her hands were gone from me, and she straightened in her chair. “It took me years to get my principal spot. I can’t just start over somewhere else.”
I’d told her that she’d have to move without warning, leave her friends and family behind forever, and take a new name, but all she could worry about was her career.
Remind you of anyone?
“You won’t be able to do that anymore.” I delivered it quietly, like it’d somehow lessen the blow. “You’d be too visible.”
She didn’t have any outward reaction, like she’d decided not to accept it. “What if I refuse to go into hiding?”
“You’re not going to do that.”
Her haunting eyes were edged with annoyance. “Why not?”
“Because the Serbian crime syndicate Frey works for will have you killed. They’re probably looking for you right now.” The second it was out of my mouth, I wanted it back. I didn’t mean to scare her, but it was important she grasped the severity of our situation.
Of her situation, my brain corrected.
“The moment he confessed to shooting the judge,” I said, “that can’t be undone. He took the life you had away from you. And it might not mean much now, but when you testify, you can do the same to him.”
She stopped looking at me then. Her gaze went vacant as she succumbed to the overwhelming realization.