Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“You ain’t never filled no damn cavity, Caspian!” She cackled.
He began to wave his arms back and forth in the exact right way. Then his legs, too. She laughed her ass off as Caspian did not only do the dance correctly, but also sang the lyrics to the song.
“What you know ’bout Al B. Sho’?”
“…Sure.” His eyes glinted.
“It’s ‘Sho’ in my neck of the woods… Look at you, Caspian! You ain’t tell me you could dance!”
Now they were bumping hips and hollering with mirth. Backing her down into her seat, he planted a hard kiss on her lips then jumped back in his black leather chair and began spinning around and around in it until at last, he stopped on a dime. He grabbed the mic and hit a few buttons as the sounds of Snoop Dogg’s, ‘Drop It Like It’s Hot,’ featuring Pharrell, came on. The song was relegated to the background as a smooth-as-silk, deep-as-a-cavern masculine voice came over the speaker.
“…Aaaaaand welcome back, Emoridians. This is a pre-recorded session of the Caspian Emory show, so no live call-ins today. As promised, instead of one podcast this month, I am delivering one every week for your listening enjoyment during the holidays. ’Tis the season… We’re back to finish the second part of this episode: DNA and biological evidence. One case that was solved by such substantiation was the one concerning the unfortunate disappearance of Cheryl Miller and Pam Jackson. I want to take you back to 1971, when the two seventeen-year-olds were driving in a 1960 Studebaker along the back roads of South Dakota…”
Caspian went on to tell the sinister details of the case.
Azure was completely enthralled, loving the sound of his commanding yet soothing voice, the calming yet engaging narration style, and the way he took complete control of his environment. He was a showman—a performer in his own right. Only, he was so convincing, one forgot he was on the air. He looked like a man about business. A man who knew what he was doing at every turn. She leaned into him, observing all the buttons lighting up, impressed with his recording, computer, and oratory skills.
She searched for notes, handwritten or digital, but found none. Caspian seemed to be on autopilot, speaking about specific details, dates, and times with no visual aids whatsoever. He knows this shit inside out and backwards. By heart. Smart as hell. What an incredible memory.
She’d heard him talk plenty of times on his podcasts but it was different to watch him in person, working his magic. As the hour came to an end, he gave the closing statements.
“…And that, my friends, is the unfortunate end to a long mystery. A cold case that has finally been solved. Cheryl Miller and Pamela Jackson, may you both rest in peace. Good night, Emoridians. As always, enjoy the life you’ve been given. Stop and smell the roses and always, make time to kill…”
He hit a button and Screaming Jay Hawkins started to sing devilishly offkey, ‘I Put a Spell on You,’ while Caspian organized a stack of paperwork.
“Caspian.”
“Yeah?” he answered, focused on his task.
“Do you want me to come with you for the DNA test? I could maybe get off work early or take the entire day off, and—”
“No, no. That won’t be necessary, baby. Thanks though… where did I put that envelope?”
“You’ve not spoken about finding your father for a while. In fact, you’ve barely said anything about it at all. I don’t think that’s healthy. Don’t you think that’s a pretty big deal and needs to be discussed?”
“I will say somethin’ when I have something to say about it, Azure. What’s the point in gettin’ all worked up if he ain’t even my father? Besides, I meant what I said. My main reason for wanting to meet him had nothing to do with forging a relationship. It was to find out about what he knew about my mother, and if he’d seen her the night of her death. I figured he could offer some missing pieces, and he did. Now, I have new leads and things to look into. Of course I checked what he said about his own whereabouts.”
“About him being in jail? What did you find out?”
He cursed under his breath as he searched for something on his desk. “He was tellin’ the truth. He was in prison at the time of her death, serving a ten-year sentence, but he got out early for good behavior, a couple years later.” A deep exhale escaped his lips. “Damn it. I can’t find it anywhere!”
“Caspian, what are you looking for?”
“I had an envelope lyin’ over here and I have no idea where it is! It’s important. It was a letter.” He continued to shuffle around, cursing and carrying on. He looked ridiculous.
“I need you to calm down.”