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)
Confirming that it was you who lured Jack Sharpe into Dante’s trap.
“He’ll be pissed about this, but he’ll get over it. Meanwhile, you’ll still be in prison and Sharpe will still be dead.”
My expression didn’t change. “Dante doesn’t seem like a think-ahead kind of guy, but he does seem like the kind who values loyalty and orders. You’ve proven today that you’re a self-serving piece of shit that’ll turn on him whenever it suits you. Be honest,” I said, dropping to a whisper. “You’re never making it to that island.”
Something flashed in Davidson’s eyes—too fast for me to read. “Get comfortable, boys. You’re not getting out of here any time soon.”
“We’ll see. I’ll take that phone call now.”
He walked off, laugh floating over his shoulder. “Did I forget to mention? The phone’s broken.”
I watched him go until he disappeared into Jack Sharpe’s office. Cairo was a silent, shadowed figure in the corner.
“What did he say?” he asked when I sat next to him. His voice was entirely too calm.
“He said we’re screwed, Sharpe. We’re not getting out of this one.”
“Maybe,” Jacques said from where he shared the wall with the toilet. “Davidson didn’t get all of us.”
IVY
I stood there long after the sirens faded and the onlookers found something better to do.
Everything had changed. The tournament would start in a couple of hours. There was no point in me going up there by myself. I wasn’t about to disable the cameras, knock out three grown men, and haul their bodies out a side door by myself without being seen.
Jacques knew that too, which is why he told me what to do.
But how? Helplessness paralyzed me, keeping me pinned to the sidewalk. Jacques searched all day and night and couldn’t find them. How am I supposed to?
My phone buzzed. I scrambled for it, hoping it was one of the guys using their one phone call to tell me what the hell was going on.
I checked the screen. Paris.
“Rainey? Rainey,” she cried. “Where are you? What’s going on? Someone just texted me that my brother was arrested.”
“He was,” I croaked. “Officer Davidson arrested him— Arrested all the Bedlam Boys for the murder of Scott Cavendish.”
“What?! That’s insane. They were framed. Cops figured that out a long time ago. Did Davidson up and decide to stop doing actual police work and just take the easy way out to solve the big case?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past that man,” I said, lips twisting. “He didn’t do any police work into solving my grandmother’s murder either.” The corrupt piece of crap had other plans.
“Oh my gosh. I’m sorry, I have to call my mom. We need to get Cairo a lawyer. Ugh, I wish I had Jack’s number,” she cried. “Why did he choose now of all times to take a vacation?”
“Paris, before you go, I’m looking for someone who might be able to help...”
I told her.
“Oh, I do know where they are. Amy’s there too. It’s some kind of sorority bonding thing to break in the new pledges. They kept it secret because they’re all blowing off classes, and the sorority has already been busted once for a hazing gone wrong during one of these bonding trips.”
No wonder Jacques couldn’t find her.
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Thank you, Paris,” I said as the notification chime sounded in my ear. “This’ll be over soon. I promise. The guys won’t go down for something they didn’t do.”
“No, they won’t. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks.” I hung up and went straight to Legend’s car. The keys were in the ignition, waiting for the trip that wasn’t happening. “No, but we’ve got somewhere else to be.”
I plugged the address in the GPS and followed it out of town. My mind churned the whole way. I didn’t fault Jacques’s genius, but he said he eliminated six, was uncertain of three, and knew without a doubt the final one was in the Black Letter Crew.
How? What did he discover that made him so sure, and why did that stupid oaf Officer Mars have to pull him away before he could tell me more than a name.
What if he’s wrong and I spend precious time my guys didn’t have by interrogating an innocent?
What if he’s right and it all falls on me to rescue the sheriff before the clock strikes seven on Steven Ellis’s Bring Back Crystal Canyon party?
I glanced at the clock. Less than eleven hours to do what Cairo couldn’t do in weeks. And if I fail and his father dies, leggy blondes won’t be the only thing between us. Jack Sharpe’s death would break us for good.
I slammed on the gas. If it ended between me and that cheating bastard, it damn sure wouldn’t be because of the even bigger bastard that fathered him. This ends tonight.
The Black Letter Crew finally pays for what they’ve done.