Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“You still with me, Detective,” his captain asked. “What? Are you finally pausing long enough to consider how this would make you and Boy Wonder look? I mean, how else would you know where to find Jason if the two of you weren’t the ones that put him there?”
“How long was Jason missing?” Ryder asked. He knew he and Remi were innocent and they’d both been seen by multiple people over the past two days, so providing an alibi wouldn’t be difficult; he just needed a time frame.
“Don’t know. When did you take him?” His boss countered.
“Fuck,” Ryder muttered in frustration. “We didn’t take Jason. What would be the point in abducting him and then rescuing him? Wouldn’t that be just a touch risky and stupid?”
“Not nearly as stupid as when you looked me square in the eye and told me that Boy Wonder dreamed about it, led you to the construction site, and just stumbled upon the tube that led to Jason’s glass coffin,” his captain spat.
Ryder heard the door behind him open and close, and then a cup of coffee was placed in front of him. He looked up to see his partner, Jeremy Rowe, standing next to him. One look at Jeremy and Ryder knew his partner supported him. “Sorry to interrupt, boss, but Mr. Newsome has obtained a lawyer for himself and Detective Livingston. No more questions, it looks like.”
Remi hired a lawyer? That was smart. Ryder should have thought of it himself; he knew, first hand, how words could be twisted and turned to the point that one started questioning their own innocence.
“You’re suspended until further notice, Livingston. Make sure we can find you if we need to.” Without another word, his captain stormed out of the interrogation room, slamming the door behind him.
“Damn, Ryder,” Jeremy said. “What the hell? Couldn’t you have called me? Anybody? You know the captain’s tendency to be a total asshole. Why try that dream story on him?”
“Shut up, Jeremy,” Ryder barked. “How’s Remi? Were they rough on him? He didn’t pass out again, did he?”
“He your boyfriend?” Jeremy asked, not answering any of his questions. “He’s a total hottie, if he is.” When Jeremey realized Ryder wasn’t in the mood, he quickly added, “He held up fine. He told us the story—the same as yours. Nobody believed him, of course. After that, he glared at us for a few minutes and then asked to call his lawyer. Oh, and he has a bunch of scratches all over of his hands, wrists, and arms. They took pictures of those.”
Ryder breathed a sigh of relief. “He’s my niece’s roommate, that’s all.” Why would Remi have scratches on him?
“Sure, he is. Whatever.”
Ryder frowned again. “Are they going to hold us, or what?”
“Nah, they can’t. The Waylon boy was taken when you were at work and they put Newsome in a picture lineup for Jason to try and identify, but it was not only a no, but a hell no. He said the guy was much bigger. Unless the two of you hired somebody to nab him, you’re totally innocent.” Jeremy shrugged. “If it turns out that you hired somebody, then our friendship is officially over. That was some mean shit, Ry.” Jeremy shook his head from side to side. “Can you imagine what kind of torture that kid endured while he just lay there, waiting to die? Fuck, I would have pissed myself.”
“Look at me, Jeremy,” Ryder demanded. “You damn well know I didn’t have anything to do with this. Sure, I know our explanation sounds ridiculous, but it’s the God’s honest truth. I was there during Remi’s dream. Whatever the hell is happening to him, it’s real.”
Jeremy held up both hands in front of him. “Hell, dude, you don’t have to try and convince me. I’m from New Orleans; my grandmother was a voodoo priestess and my mother speaks with spirits. Maybe you’re just now coming around to believing in things you can’t see or explain, but I grew up in that shit…I’ve seen some things that quickly turned me into a believer. Some people have the gift. Most folks don’t have it or, even if they do, they never realize it. It looks like your niece’s roomie has the gift.”
“Why am I just now hearing this voodoo bullshit? You keep shit like that a secret from your partner?” Better yet, why did Jeremy refer to Remi’s new thing as a gift, like the woman in New Orleans had?
Jeremy grinned. “Dude, if you kept that black-haired, blue-eyed beauty a secret from me, then don’t start bitching at me for keeping my belief in the spiritual gifts a secret. In my eyes, yours is a much bigger transgression.” Jeremy leaned in and said, “I mean, if you aren’t interested in hitting that, I am. Is he available or have you already cut him from the rest of the pack?”