Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“It operated for a long time for a shithole,” I offer, hoping for more details.
“And? No one gave a fuck about us, especially the assholes who ran the place. There was never heat or air, the water was brown, and our mattresses were full of bedbugs. They let us do whatever we wanted and for most of us that meant getting into trouble.”
That’s new information we didn’t have, and I notice Jay jotting down notes. “But you never got into any trouble, did you Zeke? The only way I found you was because you went to help Adrian Sharma when he needed you.”
“It was no big deal. I owed him for helping me pass my science classes. Failing a class meant extra chores and less bonuses like computer time.”
“Still, you went on the record for him.”
“So? Like I said, I owed him. He tutored me and that’s about it. We weren’t friends and we didn’t hang out. I didn’t have any friends back then.”
“That had to be tough.” Jay chimes in with a dose of sympathy at just the right time.
“It was okay. Most of the time, they left me alone. When I left, I didn’t look back and I didn’t keep in touch, okay?”
That sounds like bullshit. “You didn’t look them up on social media? You weren’t even a little curious?”
He shakes his head, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “No. I mean, that time in my life was hell and I didn’t want to know anything about anyone from then.”
“And when their names popped up in the news as murder victims you weren’t even a little bit curious?”
“Or scared?” Jay asks. “I mean I’d be wondering what the fuck I might’ve done to land me on that exclusive list.”
“Why would I watch the news? It’s all depressing as fuck and I have to work.” He’s shaking his head vehemently at this point. “I didn’t do shit to anybody. Ever.”
“Okay.” I lean against the counter just a few feet away from him. “Let’s say I believe you, Zeke. Tell me why someone would want these guys dead and don’t tell me you don’t know. Hope House wasn’t that big. You know something.”
“I don’t,” he insists, but he’s unable to maintain eye contact.
“You believe this shit?” I ask Jay, putting on a show to fuck with Zeke.
Jay shakes his head. “Not even a little bit.” He makes a big show of pushing off the sofa with a grunt. “But if he’s not the killer, then that’s good news for him.”
“Unless he knows why these guys were all murdered,” I add. “Or maybe the killer just thinks he knows or is involved.”
“I’m not involved in anything! I work from home, and I spend most of my time here other than the occasional gaming convention, okay?” His chest is heaving and sweat beads around his hairline. “I don’t know anything, and I’ve worked really fucking hard to forget that time in my life.”
“And I wonder why that is?” I ask sarcastically.
“Can you leave? Please?”
I shrug even though the last thing I want to do is leave. “If you think of anything you’d like to share, feel free to give us a call.” I leave my business card on his countertop as Jay and I make our way to the front door.
I stop at the door and turn to look at Zeke. “You better hope, for your sake, that you don’t know anything. What this killer is doing to your old friends? It ain’t pretty.” With those parting words, Jay and I leave.
“You think he’ll call?”
I shrug. “He knows something, which makes me think he might have some clue who’s doing this or why. Maybe both.” His fear is palpable, and that kind of fear only comes from knowing the boogeyman is real. “We should see if we can catch up with the other two names, Laurel Kinney and Brittany Johns. If we can’t get anything from them, we should swing back here before we call it quits today.”
“Well, I definitely need more coffee before we dig into more group home horror stories. Beans & Things?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Damien
“Don’t be nervous.” I whisper the command in Frankie’s ear as we stand on the red carpet while all the city’s glitterati snaps photos of us, shouting questions to me about my lovely companion.
“Easy for you to say,” she mumbles under her breath, still smiling. “They love you and you’ve done this before.”
I turn to her and say, “You look gorgeous tonight, Francesca. Turquoise is definitely your color, and that split is doing wild things to my imagination.”
That pulls a soft smile from her. “Thank you, Damien.”
“No,” I lean forward. “Thank you for agreeing to come tonight.” I brush a soft kiss against her lips and I’m sure it’s a photo that’s going to garner some attention. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”