Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
This right here will go to the grave with me.
Letting each of the images fall from my memory, I insert my flash drive and copy every last remaining file from the locked folder.
After getting everything I need, I slip the flash drive into my pocket and turn off the computer before standing up and checking over his desk, making sure every last thing is exactly how I left it. I can’t risk Orlando finding out I was here.
Confident that everything is just right, I stride toward the office exit, pausing when a canvas on the wall catches my eye. It’s a picture of a big vase filled with tulips, and while it’s a gorgeous print, there’s something off-putting about it the longer I stare.
It hits me a moment later. Orlando’s whole house doesn’t have one cheap art print, and certainly no cheap frames. I mean, sure, the whole place is decked out with extravagant artwork by famous artists, but he’d never hang a vase of flowers on the wall. It’s not his style. This print seems like some kind of quick fix, as though he’s hiding something.
The second the thought makes its way through my head, I step up to the wall and grip the sides of it. The fucker is heavy but nothing I can’t handle.
Setting it down on the ground, I stare up at the wall, a grin plastered across my face. Today really is my lucky day. What are the chances of hitting a jackpot twice?
Orlando’s safe stares back at me, and I crack my knuckles, more than ready to get to work.
My fingers shake over the keypad as I inhale slowly. One mistake and it could be all over. I hold my breath, cautiously punching in each number of the anniversary date. There’s no way to know what he keeps in here, but I assume there are hard copies of the evidence against Tanner, and I’m not about to let those fall into the wrong hands.
Entering the last two digits is like stepping out of a plane, not knowing if your parachute is going to open, but when the safe makes a beeping sound and the light flashes green, I almost piss my pants out of pure relief.
Grabbing the handle, I quickly turn it and pull it open, only to have to catch the files as they begin to spill out. “Holy shit,” I breathe, quickly arranging them to be able to hold them better and seeing the names of old cases scrawled across the front of the manila folders.
It’s everything I just saw in the locked folder on his computer and knowing just what these papers could do for Tanner and my mom, I take every last one of them, clearing out the safe before closing the door and rehanging the cheap flowers.
My heart races as I double back to the door, pausing to look over the office. Everything is right where it should be. I just have to hope Orlando doesn’t decide to go searching through his safe before I have a chance to do something with these.
After double-checking the flash drive is securely in my pocket, I lock up the office as though I was never here and hurry out to the parking lot. I unlock the stupid Maserati Orlando gifted me, feeling sick for having to use it, but what other choice did I have? Tanner doesn’t exactly know what I’m up to right now, and after running his Mustang into Roxten’s bitch ass, it’ll be out of order until the body shop is able to complete the repairs, though it’s really only the windshield that took most of the damage. Besides, there’s something sweet about using the Maserati to get revenge.
Without a moment to waste, I dump the files on the passenger seat and get my ass moving. On the way back to Tanner’s place, I haphazardly make a last-minute right turn instead of a left, driving back toward downtown. I’m almost on autopilot when I pull up outside the precinct, not sure if I can stomach what I’m about to do, but when it comes to Tanner and my mom, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them.
A thick silence settles over me when I cut the ignition. So much could go wrong here. The file folders I have pulled into my lap are heavy, and I imagine walking in there and putting this all into the hands of a dirty cop, but I have to take my chances. I have to try, even if it means slamming these papers down and making a scene so that every last cop in the building knows what’s happening. They can’t all be in Orlando’s pocket, can they?
Thumbing through the files, I take out the ones that incriminate Tanner, but as I scan through them, I find a folder labeled JACOBS, and my curiosity shoots right through the roof. I can’t wait and pull the file out of the big pile, setting it on my lap and quickly thumbing through it. There’s a shitload of paperwork and evidence from the night Addison was raped. Evidence that never saw the light of day, but the one piece of paper that has my attention is the report from the rape kit confirming a perfect DNA match for Colby Jacobs.