Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
He motions to one of his people, a woman in a blue suit. “Tell the press that Special Agent Love-Mendez will be speaking.”
“I will not,” I say. “I will not be speaking.” I motion to the woman before she exits. “Do not make that announcement.”
“Shelly, go quickly,” the governor urges.
She leaves the room. He motions for everyone to leave. Holy fuck, here we go again. It’s too fucking early for games, and games are in play.
“Are you going to speak at your father’s press conference?” he asks.
“I am not,” I say. “And because I don’t do politics, and all of this is, I’m going to leave you with Detective Rollins and go catch a killer.”
“I really must insist that you stay. I’m the governor of this great state and there are family members of the victims here today. They want answers.”
“Who?” I ask.
“I don’t have names,” he replies.
“Then you don’t care enough for me to care. I’m leaving.” I start to stand.
“And if I insist you take part in the press conference?”
I reluctantly and irritably let my butt touch the chair again. My butt does not want to be on this hard as fuck chair any more than I do. “I’d tell you that you have no jurisdiction over my actions.”
“And if I call your boss?”
“He’ll be in from L.A. this morning. If you can convince him to speak, go for it.” I stand up. “Director Murphy. I can give you his number if you’d like?”
He chuckles. “I heard you were a pistol. They weren’t lying.”
“You mean you heard I’m a bitch.”
He laughs. “Yes. Yes, I did. Are you?”
“Yes. Are you?”
He laughs again and the door opens. A woman pokes her head inside. “Governor, the mayor is here.”
I stand up. “I wish I could say it was nice meeting you, Governor, but I’ve never met a politician I liked.”
“Your father is now a politician.”
“Your point?” I walk to the door and I leave.
Once I’m in the hallway, I find Rollins waiting on me. “He’s all yours. And no, I’m not doing the press conference. Where’s Jack Cox?”
“Probably in the lab. He spends more time reenacting crime scenes than any tech I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m going there and then to find Kellerman.”
“You aren’t going to watch me get beat up by the press?”
“Nope, just remember. Don’t drop your panties for them.”
“Holy fuck, Lilah.”
“Ah, you called me Lilah. You know, I’ve shot people for less than that.”
“I have no doubt.”
I give him a stern look. “You’ve got this.”
He groans, and I turn toward the stairs that will lead me to forensics and Jack Cox.
I’ve just started the climb when my cellphone rings with Kane’s number on caller ID.
“I thought you weren’t doing the press conference?” he asks.
“I’m not.”
“The news says you are.”
He’s worried about his uncle. “I know you poked the bear, but don’t you have a sniper on me?”
“He only one man with two eyes, bella.”
“If you think he’s not good enough to handle this, you should call Ghost and for more reasons than one.”
My phone buzzes with two calls almost back-to-back. One from my father, which I decline, and one from my brother, I just plain ignore, “This is why I prefer dead bodies to living people. They don’t make shit up. The governor has everyone thinking I’m doing this press conference. He knows I said no.”
“Good,” he says. “Keep it that way, bella. I need to run into a meeting.”
He says something in Spanish that’s a little dirty, and a lot lovely in my book, but then I’m pretty fucked in the head, and then he hangs up. I exit the stairwell and find my way to the forensics lab. When I step to the window, I find Jack standing there in front of a fake body and wearing a Freddy Krueger glove, complete with knives on the end.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I hold my position outside the glass dividing the hallway and the forensics room, watching Jack-the-Ripper do some ripping, literally. He slides protective glasses into place and proceeds to stab the doll in an upward motion with his Freddy glove, only to have the blades break off and fly around the room. He curses, yanks down his glasses, and pulls off the glove. This is not a man who knew how to create this weapon. I decide right then, from the pure frustration in his response to the failure, that he’s not guilty of murder. That doesn’t mean that he’s not working for my father, or Pocher, or both, and therefore pulled me into this to serve their purpose.
We’ll see, I think.
And how the hell did he get a doll approved? Those things cost a small fortune, and the NYPD does not take that type of expenditure lightly.
I open the door and walk into the room. Jack rotates to face me, his eyes going wide. “Special Agent Love-Mendez. I didn’t expect you.”