Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“No, we are not finished with this interview. I watched the video of your visit with Jason last week.”
Abigail’s eyes crinkled. “Did you, now? I bet I appeared delightful on the big screen.” She looked around. “Shall we watch it together?”
“I’ve seen enough,” Laurel said. “Why in the world would you want Jason Abbott out on the street?”
Abigail’s eyes widened, so very much like Laurel’s that her stomach dropped. “Out on the street? I do not want that maniac free. He wants to kill you or me. Most likely me, and that won’t do.”
Laurel tried to study Abigail’s facial expressions for hints of falsehood but couldn’t determine any telltale signs. “Could you stop playing games for one minute? I watched the video of the last time you visited him in jail. I know you gave him the idea to escape. Yet your motivation for such a puerile act escapes me.”
Abigail’s chin slightly lowered and her lips lifted in an almost flirty smile, or at least what Laurel would consider flirty. “It really galls you when you fail to understand something, doesn’t it?”
That statement held truth. “Are you planning to kill Jason Abbott?”
Abigail tapped her fingers on the desk. “I cannot believe you’re still using this old door as a desktop. Do I have to go ahead and just buy you a desk myself?” Her smile widened. “I do have plenty of funds, as you know.” She owned a marijuana farm outside of town, and apparently the business remained lucrative.
“What is your plan, Abigail? I think you’re underestimating Abbott,” Laurel said.
“Nonsense. It would be impossible to underestimate that dullard,” Abigail said. “I wish you wouldn’t worry so much.” She held out her hand as if admiring her blood-red nails. “Although, I do like your showing how much you care about me.”
“I’m concerned because he will kill innocent women, unlike you. Women who did not disturb his brain patterns until he felt free to act on his killing urges,” Laurel said evenly.
Abigail straightened on the chair. “I’m bored with this discussion. Let’s dish. How’s the baby, anyway? You don’t look any different. I expected you to be all glowy.”
How annoying that Abigail had somehow guessed about Laurel’s pregnancy before Laurel herself even had. Laurel wished she could’ve lied better when Abigail had dropped the bombshell. “Dr. Caine, we are here to discuss Jason Abbott.”
Abigail threw back her head and laughed, the sound so much like Laurel’s natural laugh that nausea rolled through Laurel’s belly.
“You just called me Dr. Caine. I think we’re way past that, don’t you?” Abigail’s dual-colored eyes sparkled. “Speaking of the Caine name, have you talked to dear old Dad?”
“Only as he relates to my current case,” Laurel said. “I’m dealing with one sociopath at a time.”
Abigail’s heterochromatic eyes glowed in the office lights. “Sociopath, is it? I thought you diagnosed me as a malignant narcissist.”
“I haven’t diagnosed you with any certainty. You could be a psychopath for all I know, or care,” Laurel said. “Have you spoken to Zeke Caine?”
“No,” Abigail said. “I’m keeping my distance. You have to know he won’t keep his distance from either you or me.”
“I’m hoping he’ll be too busy with the church to bother me,” Laurel said. “So you haven’t spoken to him, and you remain unaware of his movements during the last five years?” It was too late to arrest and charge him with the attack on her mother, but experience told her that he’d have additional victims out there.
“I neither know nor care where dear old Dad has been, and neither should you,” Abigail said, her jaw firming. “He’s not going to leave us alone. At some point, you and I are going to have to combine forces to handle him.”
Laurel swallowed. “Handle him? Would you like to elaborate?”
“I truly would not.” Abigail met her stare evenly.
During Laurel’s last case, in which prominent men had been murdered by stabbing, Zeke Caine had been a possible victim. There wasn’t a doubt in Laurel’s mind that Abigail had tried to kill him by copying the murderer’s modus operandi. “Someday he will identify you as the person who stabbed him that night in March.”
Abigail crossed her legs. “Do you think so? Then why hasn’t he?”
“I don’t know.” There was the disastrous possibility that Zeke Caine liked to play deadly games as much as Abigail did. “Do you?”
Abigail chuckled softly. “All you had to do was let him bleed out that night. Why didn’t you?”
Laurel had come upon their father and saved his life. “I want him behind bars paying for his crimes. Not dead. Are you admitting you stabbed him?”
“Of course not.” Abigail winked as if truly enjoying the interview. “We both know that if I committed a crime, which I have not done, you’d never be able to prove it. Isn’t it time you stopped pursuing me and became my sister?”