Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
That night was like a crystal-clear memory in my mind.
Walking in, seeing her blood staining my white sheets underneath her body. Seeing that man on top of her…
I’d never forget it. Not for as long as I lived.
My dad didn’t say anything, so I continued.
“And she had to have it at my house because she met this man on the freakin’ internet. Craigslist, for holy sake. She was so nervous about meeting him, and doing this, that she chose my house because she didn’t want that man to know where she lived. She didn’t want that man breaking her things, so she used mine. Broke mine. My loft will forever be tainted with the memories of walking in and seeing that. My heart felt like it leapt out of my throat at the sight of her like that. So no, I don’t really give a single crap whether or not you feel the need to ‘drop’ me as a son. As far as I’m concerned, if you choose her side over mine in this, then you aren’t the man I thought you were. You aren’t anything to me, and I don’t want anything to do with you. Being your son means bad things for me mentally, so you saying ‘you are no longer my son’ is actually a really big favor to me. I’ll save a whack in both mental health and monetary wealth. So as far as I’m concerned…win-win.”
My father’s mouth opened as if he’d just now thought about the consequences of his words.
But I was done.
There would be no more going back.
Heading out of the courthouse—thank God I’d been given a few days to wrap up a few cases—I went straight to work.
The judge was actually a really good friend of mine.
I’d worked with him for several cases lately and had also testified at my fair share of them as well.
I found people for a living.
One of those people I’d found was the judge’s grandson.
He’d been missing for three weeks from a playground in town. I’d been the last resort—I usually took anything locally that I needed to, but I’d been gone out of town for a month working an abduction case of a senator’s daughter.
I’d received a call two weeks into that case explaining about the judge’s grandson, and between working on my current case, I’d worked on that one, too.
I’d found him, locating him two states away at his mother’s best friend’s cousin’s place, and had brought him back home using a buddy, all without leaving my temporary office space.
Anyway, I had two open cases at that moment in time. And I was set to finish one up as soon as I could make one last connection. One that would come later in the day, hopefully.
The judge understood that and gave me the time that I needed.
Now, the other case? That one was cold.
I’d been doing everything that I could to find the missing woman—a surrogate that had taken off just days away from giving birth—and had come up empty. The woman that had the baby definitely knew how to cover her tracks.
Once at my office, I did what I could with my currently open case, then waited for the information to arrive.
It did half an hour later.
I was shifting through paperwork on my cold case when the call came in that I was hoping for.
I smiled and called the police chief of that particular county. Five minutes later, I got the confirmation that the child was found.
The next call went to the judge presiding over my case.
“It’s done,” I said. “I’ve solved it.”
The judge breathed a sigh of relief.
“I really fucking hate that I couldn’t fix this for you, son,” the Judge grumbled.
I knew he did.
I could see the torn indecision in his eyes.
He didn’t like the case.
He didn’t like the circumstances.
But, sadly, the letter of the law was simple. You couldn’t kill someone. Even someone that was doing something very, very wrong.
Or, at least, someone that you thought was doing something wrong.
I understood.
I didn’t like it, but I completely understood.
“I know,” I said. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay, and we both knew it.
“Report to the jail tomorrow morning at nine,” he said. “Get the rest of your affairs in order. Then turn yourself back in.”
PROLOGUE III
i before e except when your foreign neighbor Keith received eight counterfeit beige sleighs from feisty caffeinated weight lifters.
-Coffee Cup
KOBE
Five Years Later
“Who would you suggest?” he asked.
The man that was sitting behind the plexiglass window, his arms across his chest, looked at me like a snake would his next meal.
I wasn’t sure what to make of him.
His name was Lynn.
That was the only information he’d given me of a personal nature.
“What, exactly, are you asking me here?” I asked. “Be blunt.”
The older man smiled, and it sent chills down my spine.