Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“Lilah, this is Oliver,” my brother says as I join the two of them. “Oliver, this is my sister, Agent Lilah Love.”
“Mendez,” I say, just to irritate my brother. “The name is Mendez. I married my gangster boyfriend, remember?”
Oliver laughs. “Gotta love the sibling dynamic. I have one myself. She irritates the fuck out of me, and yet I still love her.”
“I hate him,” I say, but I don’t hate Oliver quite as much as I expected, not so far. My ability to hate runs far and wide.
“Oh, I hate her as much as I love her,” he says, and it’s as if he’s right there in my head, plucking words out for his own use. Fuck. Hate. “That bitch,” he continues, “just invited my mother over for a weekend at my place without asking me first, which would be fine if my mother wasn’t the meanest person I’ve ever known.”
“You just met me,” I say. “Don’t write me off yet.” I don’t allow Andrew a chance to agree, moving on with, “How long has he been dead?”
“Three hours max.”
Which accounts for my travel time and Ghost’s boredom while waiting on my arrival. “Was the body moved?” I ask, and if he doesn’t have a fast answer, he’s a dumbass, and his endearing foul language won’t matter. He’ll be dead to me.
“Of course,” he preens. “Logically, no one gets shot and lands on a piano that fucking high. He was moved fast, though, before rigor set in.”
I eye my brother. “We have a locked room that was wiped clean, not a stitch of furniture. Even the electric plugs were taken out.”
“What about the floor?” Andrew asks. “Is it carpet?”
“Hardwood,” I say, eyeing Andrew, who says, “Of course, we’ll rip it up. But I’m not optimistic we’ll find anything when it’s been cleaned as precisely as you describe.”
“On that note,” Oliver interjects, his brows knitting together, “why was cleanup even needed in another room?”
“You said the body was moved,” Andrew argues. “I assume that meant he got shot in that room.”
“This was a precise hit, a bullet between the eyes. The blood spatter is right next to the piano. The victim was lifted but not moved across the room. Furthermore, the blood spatter wasn’t cleaned up.”
“Then whatever happened in that room was unrelated to today’s kill.”
“I can’t say it was unrelated,” Oliver amends, “but it wasn’t where this man was murdered.” His attention lands on me. “Were the other victims posed? That’s an act of a serial killer mentality, not that of a paid-for-hire assassin.”
“They were not,” I state.
“That’s quite odd,” he replies. “Why pose this one?”
“Because this isn’t the same guy,” I say easily, now certain that Ghost told me the truth. He didn’t kill the first two victims. He killed Mark to make him the number two assassin. “And he has nothing to do with whatever happened in that room. For all we know, it’s the start of a remodel.”
I motion for Andrew to step away from Oliver with me. Oliver takes a hint. “I’ll get back to work.” He offers us space we don’t have to claim.
“Who else lived in the house?”
“No one since his wife left him about six months ago,” he says, “but of course, there’s a housekeeper who just so happens to be in Europe.”
Of course, she is. “Get her on the phone and find out what used to be in the locked room to the right of the front door. And I need an address on the ex.”
“That would be Maine.”
“Then get me a phone number.”
Enrique finds his way back to my side, and I cut him a look, reading the dread on his face. “What?”
“Kane’s here.”
I rotate to face him. “Did you tell him about Ghost?”
“I told him.”
I whip around to face off with my brother. “Say what?”
“I told him. He needs to know just how obsessed Ghost is with you. You brought him a pie. That’s not normal, Lilah.”
“The pie was for Ghost?” Enrique demands incredulously.
Ignoring him is the theme of the day, and I do it now, my ire directed at my brother. “Thank you, Andrew. Thank you so fucking much.”
“You’re not invincible, Lilah.”
“Neither are you, Andrew. You’re on dangerous ground.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“Snitches get stitches. I’ll beat your ass later. For real.” I cut away from him, and he catches my arm.
“Dad—”
“He’ll kill the sister first.”
“Where is she?”
“That’s the question of the hour. How about you use those God-given investigative skills and find that out? Unless he forgot to give you those skills and you’ve been faking it?”
“You’re such a bitch.”
“So are you, Andrew.”
With that, I rotate away from him and exit the house, where my husband is apparently waiting on me. Good. It’s time to define the meaning of husband and wife, my way.
Chapter Ten
Jay is waiting on me on the other side of the yellow tape Andrew’s team has placed around the perimeter of the property, which some fool placed with a wide as fuck girth. I had to walk a freaking mile to duck under the tape.