Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“He was in shock,” Cord explained to both of us. “But now you need to listen to me.”
I nodded.
“Celia Hughes was Breckin’s lover, but on closer investigation, we found that Timothy Stanson had also been Breckin’s lover. He knew Tim before you, Tracy,” Cord told me, his voice hoarse. “All three of you—you, Tim, and Celia—have been attacked by the same person. Tim is dead, so there’s no reason to believe that the same is not planned for you and Celia.”
“Did you tell Dr. Hughes your theory?” Alex asked.
“I did. She regretted having placed any blame on Tracy.”
Alex was squinting at Cord.
“What?” I asked.
“Cord suspects Breckin.”
“Oh, he does not,” I assured my brother, but then when I looked at Cord, I saw how disgruntled he looked. “Oh my God, you do?”
“Of course I do,” he snapped at me. “Why would Breckin not be a suspect?”
“Why on earth would Breckin want to hurt me?”
Cord said, “That right there is the only thing that doesn’t make sense.”
“What?”
“Celia was a problem for him. Getting her out of the way would seem logical.”
I gasped. “She’s pregnant, Cord. That would make Breckin a monster.”
“Yes, it would,” he agreed.
“Well, he’s not.” I was adamant. “I know he’s not.”
“I—”
“He’s not,” I repeated. “And why kill Tim Stanson when that relationship was over ages ago? That seems like a stretch to me.”
“Does it?”
“Why’re you baiting Trace?” Alex chimed in. “Despite all this back-and-forth crap, I know you already figured out it couldn’t have been Breckin, so just tell us how.”
“As you know, murder doesn’t always make sense. You can’t always connect the dots. Looking at all this objectively, it adds up to people who inconvenience Breckin ending up dead or hurt.”
“But?” Alex prodded him.
“But,” Cord repeated, sounding exasperated, “checking up on Breckin’s whereabouts was pretty fuckin’ easy.”
Apparently a key card was needed to get anywhere in the building where Breckin worked, there was video that showed where he was at any given time, and when he did go home, after putting in long hours, there was an alarm code that needed to be punched in, and again video feed.
“So Breckin is in the clear,” I said, relieved.
“He is,” Cord granted. “As for last night, Matt vouched for Breckin. He had eyes on him the whole time, said Breckin never went near the bathroom. It ended up being one of the servers that found you, and Matt and Breckin didn’t go to the bathroom until they saw the EMTs making their way over there.”
That made sense. Matt would have been watching, since he’d been upset that my ex was there to begin with.
“And Celia’s attack?” Alex pressed.
“Breckin was out of town, at a conference in Dallas, so he couldn’t have been responsible.”
“And Stanson?” Alex was always thorough.
“At the time of Tim Stanson’s death, Breckin was performing surgery at County. He’s in the clear. His alibis all check out.”
“And you didn’t even have to question him, did you?”
“No, I did not,” Cord told my brother.
We were all quiet for a moment.
“You wanted it to be him,” Alex suggested.
Cord shrugged. “It would have been easiest, and would have made the most sense.” He sighed deeply. “Now I’m looking for an answer that’s twisted and much harder to figure out.”
Alex nodded. “Did you check if this second attack on Tracy had anything to do with the one at his office?”
“No,” Cord shut him down. “I told you: this second attack was similar to Celia’s and to the one Tim Stanson reported. I suspect that the guys who shot up the office were there for Dimah.”
“They weren’t after Dimah, they were after Kirill,” I corrected as I always did. “And please don’t worry about that,” I told Alex. “Dimah handled that.”
“Oh? Did he? I wonder how long before we find bodies in the bay.”
“Knock it off,” I groused. “Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with Dimah or my job.”
“I would agree,” Cord admitted, his voice soft, lulling, as he gently took my chin in his hand to look me in the eye. “Right now, I need you not to fall apart. Can you do that?”
“I don’t fall apart,” I promised, massaging the bridge of my nose, then nearly rubbed my eyes raw. “Lex, would you do me a humongous favor?”
“Anything.”
I hardly ever used his childhood nickname, so when I did, he always responded to whatever I was about to request of him.
“Could you go to my place and get me fresh clothes, clean underwear, and my glasses? I need a break from my contacts.”
“Of course,” he said softly, standing up. “I told Dad that you and I would be home tonight. I talked to your doctor, and he said he would release you later this afternoon.”
“Where is Dad?” I asked him, surprised my father had not yet been to see me.
“He was fishing in Manhattan Beach with Uncle Rudy. He’s on his way home now, though. I talked to him this morning.”