Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
"You got something for me?"
"Nah, man," I say, letting off the brake when the light changes. I lost Ivy's car in the traffic, but I'm not concerned. It's a cherry red Miata. Hard to miss. "I was calling to see if you had anything yet."
"Nothing good," he says. "We tried to trace the phone back to wherever it was purchased, but that was a dead-end. Whoever bought it paid cash at a corner store, and they don't have security tapes going back that far. The phone plan is paid for with a prepaid debit card that's also a dead-end. We're still trying to cut through the red tape to get IPs on the social media accounts, but those we have gotten ahold of go to the phone."
"I hate technology," I growl. People assume it makes our jobs easier, but they're wrong. Most of the time, it complicates everything. We jump through every kind of hoop imaginable, just to hit a brick wall that leads nowhere. Social media companies have no problem sharing data on their users with every company under the sun if it makes them a quick buck, but God forbid if law enforcement asks for it. Getting them to hand it over takes an act of Congress. Even when lives are literally at stake, getting help from them is a crapshoot.
"We've been able to keep her name out of the press so far, but I don't know how much longer that's going to last," Octavio says. "Clark's parents have them whipped into a frenzy. You still think she's innocent?"
"I brought her in for questioning yesterday," I say. "Showed her some of the texts. It was pretty clear at that point that she didn't do it."
"What are you thinking?"
"Not sure yet," I say, hitting my blinker to turn right when I spot her car in the parking lot of a diner a few blocks from her place. She went to the school early this morning and left in tears about an hour later. I'm guessing she was suspended until this is resolved. A kindergarten teacher involved in a possible manslaughter investigation is bad press. "My guess is someone went to great lengths to make this look like her, but I haven't shaken loose a suspect yet."
"You might want to hurry," Octavio advises. "You know bodies don't stay down forever."
"Yeah, I know." And the longer he's missing, the more likely it becomes that he made that jump. Missing people don't tend to stay missing for long. Most missing persons cases are cleared within twenty-four hours. The longer they're gone, the less likely it is that they'll be found alive, especially when foul play or suicide is suspected. "Keep me posted."
"Will do."
I disconnect and pull into a spot that allows me to see inside the diner. If she's meeting someone, I want to know who. And if she's not, I still want to be able to keep an eye on her. Jacoby is covering for me, though he thinks I've lost my fucking mind over this girl.
Hell, maybe I have. Because when I look at her, I don't see a suspect. I see my future. And that's fucking Jacoby up a little bit. We've been partners for a long time, and I've never lost my shit over anyone, let alone a suspect. I know what I'm risking here, but I'm not sure I care. My parents met, married, and had me within the space of six months. Growing up, my dad always told me that I'd know when I met the right one. That I'd feel it in my gut.
Ivy Kendall is the only one I've ever felt there. I've barely spoken to this girl but that doesn't mean I don't know her. I've been following her for days, poring over every detail of her life. Everything I learn makes me want her more. My instincts scream a little louder every day, demanding that I make a move.
I'm ready to heed them. This sweet little kitten is mine.
Why wait when I already know she's innocent?
She settles in at a table close to the doors, facing me. She doesn't see me though. I don't think she's noticed me following her at all except for at the bars. She's too trusting, oblivious to the dangerous people who live in this world. I find myself wanting to protect that innocence. Women like her shouldn't ever have to know about the horrible shit people do to one another.
Already, too much of that darkness has touched her life. It's left a mark on her. Yesterday, she was a fierce little tiger showing her claws because she thought I was stalking her. Today, she's just stumbling through the day, a shadow hanging over her.
Her eyes are still red-rimmed and puffy, her face pale. As far as I can tell, she isn't wearing any makeup. She doesn't need it. Even ravaged by tears and put through the emotional wringer, she's beautiful. It's easy to see why she got into modeling. She's fucking flawless from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.