Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Are you done?” I ask, tipping up my chin.
“Go back to bed,” he orders in a clipped tone. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
“I’ll make breakfast. I need to stay busy. If you don’t mind, you can keep an eye on Claire. Make sure she doesn’t roll off the bed when she wakes up. Or if you prefer to do something else, I can put her in her crib.”
“You need to rest. I’m not telling you again.”
There’s a knock on the door.
“Dammit,” he says under his breath, stabbing his fingers through his hair.
I move around him to open it.
Livy stands on the other side, wearing a floral peacock kimono. “Sorry to interrupt you, but Detective Jordan is at the gates. The guard wants to know if he should let him in.”
Chapter
Forty-Three
Saverio
* * *
Jordan sits in an armchair in the lounge when Anya and I get downstairs. Livy follows with Claire in her arms.
With a nod, I dismiss the guard who’s keeping an eye on the detective.
Jordan stands when we approach, dragging a gaze over the sweatpants and long-sleeved T-shirts Anya and I threw on hastily. He’s observant enough to miss nothing. Luckily, Anya managed to hide the scrapes on her face behind a thick layer of foundation. Despite having shoved her bandaged feet into a pair of sneakers, she walks normally. She’s stretched her sleeves over her hands to hide her injured palms, looking more like an innocent, somewhat neglected teenager in baggy clothes than a woman who killed six men a few hours ago.
“Long night?” Jordan arches an eyebrow. “You look tired.”
“We celebrated my wife’s birthday.” I fix a cold gaze on him. “We didn’t get to bed until three this morning. So yes, we were having a sleep-in.”
“What can we do for you, Detective Jordan?” Anya asks, her voice level.
His smile is flat. “I have bad news. It’s about your mother.”
I set my cane aside, take Anya’s hand, and pull her down next to me on the sofa. “Did you find her?”
Livy sits down on the other side of me, cradling Claire against her chest.
Jordan takes his seat again. “A guest at the Palm Paradise Motel found her body this morning when he checked out.”
I squeeze Anya’s hand through the fabric of her T-shirt that covers it. Despite the comfortable temperature in the house, her fingertips that stick out from under the sleeve are cold.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news,” Jordan says, not looking one iota sorry.
“How?” Anya asks with a vacant expression. When he frowns, she elaborates. “How did she die?”
“Knife wound.” Jordan leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. “It was rather gruesome.” He lets that sink in before continuing. “When was the last time you saw her?”
Anya lifts her big, golden eyes to Jordan’s face. “Just after one this morning actually.”
Surprise washes over his features. “Where?”
“At the motel.”
Jordan takes his phone from his jacket pocket and swipes a finger over the screen.
After typing something, he says, “You better tell me everything.”
“My mom and I had a complicated relationship,” Anya starts, glancing at me before facing the detective again. “But I’m sure you already know that from the police report I filed when she went missing from the rehabilitation center.”
“Go on,” he prompts, watching us with cunning attention.
Anya tells him the story we agreed on last night, that Mary kidnapped Claire for ransom, and that we dropped off the money before leaving with our baby.
When she comes to the end of her tale, Jordan traces his bottom lip with a thumb.
Directing the question at Livy, he asks, “What’s your version of the events that took place?”
Livy meets his gaze head-on. “It was exactly like Anya said.”
“So.” Jordan smirks. “The three of you came home after leaving the money with Ms. Mary Brennan at the motel, and you’ve been here since. Can anyone vouch for that?”
“Most of the guests had already left by then,” I say. “But a few friends waited here for us. I can give you their names. Of course, the guards on my premises can testify that we haven’t left since returning with Claire. They can also verify the time we returned.”
He glances toward the patio. “I suppose you wouldn’t be able to give me footage from your security cameras to attest to the facts.”
“We switched them off for the party,” I say. “The system is programmed to send alert notifications when movement is detected, and with the number of feet we had on the property, it would’ve blown up the system.”
“No security?” he asks with mock-surprise. “For a man who was attacked at his wedding, I find it hard to believe that you’d throw a party without your normal security in place.”
“You don’t know what my normal security entails,” I point out. “Secondly, I never said we were unprotected. That’s why my bodyguards were on site.”