Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Why don’t you sit? Avery is my cook when I’m here. He can make you an omelet.”
Gah. I could not get distracted by that omelet, though I wanted to be. “I want to know what is going on.” My throat swelled up. “Is this because of my father? Because what I asked him to find out?”
Ashton and Avery shared a look just as the espresso machine started sputtering to life.
He nodded to the machine. “Can you do two? Bring them to the office? Also, maté for myself.”
“Maté?”
“It’s like a tea, from my grandmother’s country. It’s a common drink.”
Avery nodded. “I can bring the food in as well?”
Ashton was eyeing me as he said, “Yes. I don’t care what she says. She needs to eat.”
I wasn’t about to protest because hello, I was not one to turn down food. Ever.
Ashton was heading back along the hallway he’d just left. “Come on, Molly. Unless you don’t actually want to get those answers after all?”
Nope. No way. I followed him into his office, and I was the one to close the door as he went to stand behind his desk.
“Who was the lockpick guy?”
He frowned at me.
I held up a hand. “Don’t lie to me. Your men were there. I’m not stupid. Between you and Trace, you’re the one who gets shit done. You wade in and get your hands dirty. Trace was a Wall Street guy before he took over his family’s business, but you, you were always more in than he was. I know you know who that guy was. Your men probably identified him and have already done a complete investigation into everything about him. This was all started because I sent my father out there to find who killed Justin and Kelly, isn’t it?”
I was the one to blame.
My throat was burning.
Ashton stopped frowning, but he gave me a more contemplative look before nodding. “I think your father kicked a hornet’s nest, but—” Now he was the one to hold up a hand as I’d been about to interrupt. He kept talking, softening his tone. “I was the one who did this, not you, not him. You want to blame someone, put it on me. I’m the one who decided to use you to get your father to do this job. We’ve talked about all of this.”
My head started pounding, and I needed to sit down. “There’s a different feel when you have someone trying to break into your apartment, and what was that on my door? A bomb? It must’ve been a small one. That means someone else was there because you said the lockpicker guy wasn’t the one who did that. That means two guys were sent, by two different people. What did I get myself into? What did I get my dad into?”
Ashton’s eyes went flat. “If anyone will survive this, you know it will be your dad.”
That was true. We were cockroaches.
“Who was the guy, Ashton?”
He came back around the desk and handed me a file before sitting on the seat next to me. “His name is Wallace Birchum. He goes by Walleye.”
I took the file, opening it. He looked different from when he was kneeling before my exploding door. His picture was rougher, his hair a mess. He was unshaven. His eyes glazed over. Dark hair. Dark eyes. “So who is Wallace Birchum?”
Ashton didn’t reply at first, until he took the file away. “He’s a hit man.”
A hit man?!
Oh, god.
I sank back in my chair.
“He’s also a CI for the police.”
A CI. Confidential informant, and a hit man. “He diversified his street résumé.”
The corner of Ashton’s mouth twitched. “We got into his phone, and he received a call four hours earlier from Detective Worthing.”
Every muscle in my body snapped to attention. “What?”
“I sent my men to pick up the detective so we can have a talk about this man.”
Alarm sirens were blaring through my whole body, but also a whole different type of alarm was sounding. “He’s a cop.”
“Yes.”
“You’re picking up a cop to talk?”
“Yes.”
I was remembering when they were at Easter Lanes—“Wait. Easter Lanes? Is someone still covering me there?”
“We’re paying your cousin to run Easter Lanes while you’re with me.”
“He can handle covering for a shift, but not any longer than that. He’ll mess everything up.”
But wait again, Detective Worthing. “Worthing called you that day, and you said that he did. I saw the look he gave you and how his partner reacted.” I was a little slow, but this was clicking at least. “You wanted his partner to know.”
“I did.”
“Why? You guys had an exchange at the end, and you said it was about him thinking we’re sleeping together. That wasn’t the truth, was it?”
“I didn’t want him to guess what I was going to have your dad do.”
“But his partner? What was that about?”