Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
"Xander Rhodes," Xander announced. "Hannah hired me a couple days ago. Asked me to look into her stalker. There hasn't been much to go on though."
"What the hell are you doing here then?" Elliott asked, looking around the apartment, his breath hitching when he saw the streaks of impossibly red blood from the floor of the kitchen to the living room.
Hannah's blood. She was hurt. She was hurt and it was all his fault.
"I sent her a text last night. I told her to come meet me. That we needed to discuss some things. When she didn't answer by this morning, I got concerned. I came to check on her and found the place like this. The police are on their way," he said, sounding annoyed that they needed to be involved.
Elliott paced the floor as they waited, half listening to Tad and Xander talk about what they each knew. Comparing notes. Trying to figure out the puzzle. While he paced in all his uselessness.
The police came later, weapons drawn and forcing them to put their hands up until Xander announced himself and the guns disappeared. They talked about the case. Asked countless questions of all of them. Wasting time as Hannah was somewhere hurt. Without him. Scared and enduring God-knew what while he answered questions about their relationship. Did he know anyone who would hate Hannah so much? Did he screw over anyone recently?
No. Yes. People often hated him. It was a part of his job, his personal life. He jotted down names on the pad the officer supplied, knowing it would lead nowhere.
Then suddenly Tad's voice rose above all the others, sounding nasal from his broken nose. "Oh, my God. Oh my God," he said, his eyes shocked.
"What is it, sir?" one of the younger male cops asked, looking as if he didn't expect it to be anything of significance.
"I've been racking my brain trying to link things up. Xander said to focus on work. That it seemed internal because of the emails and the notes and the desk and the parking spot. Everything pointed to work."
"What is it Tad?" Elliott spat, impatient.
"I know who it is. I can't believe I didn't see it all before. She was out when Hannah left that week. When you were gone. She has literally never been out of work before..."
"Tad, focus," Xander said, his voice sounding patient but concerned.
"She was out of work today, Elliott. Didn't you notice?"
Elliott's mind flew about the day's events but he couldn't link the connection that was so clear to Tad.
"Elliott. It's Sally. Sally. She's got to have Hannah."
Elliott felt the surprise punch into his stomach as he realized that Tad was right. Sally had never missed a day of work before. She had always been there, a constant figure just out of the corner of his eye for years. And she hadn't been at her desk all day.
"Oh, my God," he said, his eyes wide. He grabbed for his phone, tapping furiously.
"Now isn't the time to check your email, man," Xander's voice drawled.
"I'm logging into the employee records. I'm getting Sally's home address."
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was Sally. Hannah's brain couldn't quite accept the fact, despite the woman standing there in front of her. Sally? Why would Sally hate her so badly?
Just then Sally's face twisted in an awful smile, a laugh rising out of her. Making her sound crazy. "Yes. Me," she answered the question in Hannah's eyes. "You never suspected me did you?" she smirked. "I couldn't let you have him," she said, throwing her hands up. "You didn't deserve him. I thought a few notes, a few awful office rumors would send you packing. It worked on all the other whores."
Hannah felt sick to her stomach. All the assistants. All the girls she and Elliott and everyone else in the office figured had left because he was such a demanding boss. All the girls that she had figured ran off because Elliott screwed them and tossed them aside. All those girls were scared off by the very person who hired them. Sally.
"But not you. No. You harlot. Got one taste of him and you wanted more and more and more. But you didn't deserve him," she spat, walking toward Hannah so quickly that Hannah wondered if she planned on smacking her. "I have been there from the beginning. I have been the one to stand by his side. See to his needs. Help him. Guide him. I'm the one he should be with!"
Hannah watched with growing concern as Sally paced, looking at the floor, mumbling only half-coherently.
She was crazy. A screw had come loose somewhere in Sally's brain. And her life was in this madwoman's hands.
"You probably thought it was so funny. You got the rich guy to fall for your young kitty."
Hannah almost snorted at Sally's word for vagina. It was so infantile. So old-world. Who spoke like that?