Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
And there was no mistaking it physically.
Dutch Black had his father stamped all over him.
Graham Black had been an exceptionally handsome man.
His son was no different.
She was about to hit play, but then she didn’t.
And Murtagh gave a concerned “Mwrr?” when the noise came from her throat.
But she’d taken out her contacts and now had her glasses on because her eyes were dry and scratchy from wearing the contacts on the plane.
It might be a trick of vision.
But she had to check.
So she took Murtagh up super-close to the screen, shoved her glasses up on her head, all so she could see.
“Yes,” she whispered staring at a specific spot on the screen. “Oh my God,” she kept whispering. “Yes.”
She cuddled Murtagh closer and walked back to the couch.
As they settled in, Murtagh started purring and kneading.
Georgiana didn’t hit play.
She stared at the patch on the leather jacket Graham Black was wearing in that picture.
Through the threads on the border around the patch that said Chaos that was positioned over the heart, there was some unraveling, and on the leather, there was a scratch on either side of the minimal damage to the stitching on the patch.
The same as on the jacket Dutch wore that day.
It was his dad’s jacket.
It was his dad’s patch.
“Muwrrrr,” Murtagh said.
“Yeah,” she whispered, “I really, really, reallyreallyreally messed up today, baby.”
“Murrr,” Murtagh told her.
“No, it isn’t okay,” she replied.
“Mwrr?”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s who he is, to his bones, his blood, his DNA, so he’ll never forgive me.”
“Muwrrr,” Murtagh decreed.
“I love you too, honey.”
Murtagh’s job was done (or so Murtagh thought), so Murtagh shut up.
Georgiana hit play.
As she watched, she paused a number of other times.
All when he was on screen.
Even when it was pictures of him as a little kid, or a baby.
Held in his father’s arms.
She noted there was something stamped all over Graham Black too.
Unmistakable.
He loved his wife.
And his sons.
Georgiana couldn’t hold it in and got another “Mwrr?” from Murtagh when she made a sad noise at a photo of Graham Black wearing a proud papa smile as he was caught on film in the middle of pulling his oldest son off his back.
The dark-haired toddler was arms and legs akimbo, like he thought he was flying through the air, even though his dad’s arms were raised high, his son held tight on either side in both hands.
The toddler’s eyes were aimed down at his father, face filled with glee.
It took some deep breaths to get through that one.
Thankfully, only once did she rewind a creeper, stalkery ten times. And this was when the camera had caught Dutch Black in the present (or a few years ago).
Laughing.
When the film was over, she didn’t think about what she intended to do.
She just started on the road to doing it.
Thus, she took Murtagh direct to her backpack, dug through it, got her notebook and pen, brought it back to the sofa, had a think, and while she did, she made her usual list.
And after finishing off the wine, the list and a couple of Zzzquil gummies, she and Murtagh went to bed.
First thing in the morning, after she made coffee, she grabbed her notebook and reviewed the list.
It read:
1. Jackson. DPD.
Carlyle Case. Status. Future. Details.
+++NEIGHBOR!!!!
Who else saw who came and went from her house?
Names?
No DNA in bed, on skin or under nails with a rape?
Market (sperm, syrup, pharma)
Players????
2. Banga -n- Kraken. Street.
Market (players, locations, warehouses?)
Where to buy?
Who?
If not them…who to ask?
3. King’s Shelter?
ED? Juliette --- (last name?)
Rock Chick books –-- read.
4. Charge taser/check expiration on Mace.
Cover:
Sperm the ruse.
Single.
Independent.
Too much $$ for insemination (How much does that cost? Find out.)???
Lame…build on this.↑↑↑↑
Once she reviewed it, Georgiana grabbed her phone and started at the top.
She called Jackson, one of her sources in the Denver Police Department.
When he said he was all in for a mid-morning coffee break (and she knew what he meant was he was all in to stare at her breasts while they sipped coffee, he asked her for a date, she politely declined while telling him how much she valued their friendship, all this happening through her delicately pumping him for information or maneuvering him to get it for her), she slapped on some makeup, did something with her hair, tugged on some clothes that showed absolutely no cleavage, promised Murtagh she’d be back…
And she headed out.
Chapter Four
Cute
Dutch
“Get twenty feet from this truck, you’re on camera. Most of the entire perimeter,” Vance said.
It was late at night.
They were in his truck, outside a warehouse, at the back, both their eyes to that warehouse that wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small, it wasn’t well-lit, but it also wasn’t dark.
And even from their distance, which was the same as the rest—not far, but not close—you could see the cameras.
“Except there,” Vance continued. “The back north corner. There are no doors or windows there to breach or see in, so they left it unprotected. But you only got about ten feet of leeway, then you’re fucked because you’re on camera.”