Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Out of the seven I’ve gotten to so far, I can eliminate two. I had to go back in and recall the information, but the night Rainey de Souza was killed was the same night as Stacy Becker’s party. Those two were there.”
“How do you know they didn’t duck out early? You weren’t watching two random guys all night.”
“Because when I saw them, they were passed out drunk on the couch. I doubt they collected themselves and became coherent enough to murder a girl and chase the other through the woods an hour later.”
Cairo inclined his head, accepting this. “That’s two out of seven. Who are the other five? Let’s stop fucking around and bring them in for a real chat.”
“We’re not at that stage yet. I’ll find out what I need to know about the final two in”—I checked my watch—“three hours. After that, I’ll have a clear picture of who I’m dealing with. When I know who to move on first, I’ll pick them up.”
“Three hours. That’s all you have.”
“That’s all I need.”
Arsenio pushed away from the table. “Then, we’re good. We’re not making that trip to Hunter’s Crest after all.”
I didn’t reply. Finishing the last of my drink, I washed out my cup and headed out the door, returning my mind to the train of thoughts Ivy and her knife interrupted.
Yes, Mia Collins and Roderick Murphy were saved suspicions by my memory. That left the five I did get to, like Zara Singh. In that moment as a hurt, moaning man mewled at her feet, there was the briefest flash in her eyes where I saw... nothing at all.
No concern. No shock. No compassion. No empathy.
Zara could’ve been looking at a gum wrapper on the sidewalk for all the emotion reflected in her dark brown pools. Then, just like that, it all flicked back on as if she remembered faking human emotions was required to fit in.
Then there was Jackson Hyde, the one who was abused by his aunt’s boyfriends. He did not have a tight-knit group of friends or loving parents. The guy wasn’t exactly a loner. He regularly attended the school anime club and got on well enough with the other members, according to what I dug up. But he didn’t have a girlfriend, boyfriend, or even a close friend he hung out with on a regular basis.
Arranging another accident in front of him wasn’t worth the two hundred dollars. I had no doubt he’d keep walking like it wasn’t his problem. Instead, I went with the direct approach and broke into his dorm room while he was at the aforementioned anime club.
He had a single room and the cheap lock that was on all the doors. I was in without much effort. The look inside his private world was eye-opening. Nothing so obvious as black envelopes on the nightstand, or a shrine to the Men of Honor in his closet, but when I walked out half an hour later, I knew what I needed to know.
So it was, going through the list and finding ways to glimpse what they’d hidden successfully for years, or eliminating people who truly were as innocent as they looked.
Three hours later, Ivy and I walked out of class and went separate ways. She did sit next to me during the lecture, huffing and glaring at me as if being Cairo’s oldest friend somehow gave me control over his actions. It barely gave me insight into them.
I couldn’t begin to guess what he was doing bringing that woman into our house and flaunting her in front of Ivy. Somehow, he’d gone from wanting nothing to do with her to wanting to hurt her, and fuck knows what caused the switch.
I left the Poli Sci building and crossed campus, coming up the back way to Psychology. A woman in an orange dress and matching shoes loitered by the steps.
“Ah, there you are. I’ve got what you asked for.” The teaching assistant handed over a stack of papers. They disappeared into my shoulder bag. “You were right. I told the professor it was a quick, ten-minute quiz to test my thesis, and he waved me on without a fight. But I don’t understand,” she said, studying me. “What good are any of these answers to you? What kind of animal are you? Are you an alarm clock or wake up on your own time person? Who’s your favorite Doctor Who villain?
“It was all totally random.”
“I’m testing a thesis of my own. Studying law is also the study of human behavior. You’ve got to understand how people think to get twelve random jurors on your side. Having you ask your class to do this saved me tracking down twenty-five participants myself. For that”—I handed over her money—“two hundred as agreed.”
“Thank you very much,” she replied, pleased. “Next time you need a favor, don’t hesitate to text me.”