Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“That’s correct,” Deidre Merriweather praised me, stepping in close and extending her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Davis.”
Ash kept his arm around my shoulders as I took her hand. “And you, SSA Merriweather.”
“I’ve been coordinating with your boss on this,” she said, putting her hands in the pockets of her trench coat. “Once he alerted us to the fact that Mr. Lennox had met with his friend, the actor Kit Riggs, and not Elliot Voss, we were able to start piecing together the rest of the story with the evidence and build a new and different timeline.”
“So everyone has been chasing a man who didn’t hurt his wife but instead who has been on the run with her for the last two weeks?”
“That’s correct.”
“Did the two of them kill Kit Riggs?”
“They did. Yes.”
“Why?”
“We’re fairly certain Mr. Riggs was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s a fairly convoluted story, but I promise you, as soon as we have all the puzzle pieces, you will too.”
“There were three men, Riggs and Mr. Abernathy and Mr. Ing,” I reminded her. “Are they all dead?”
“We believe so, but now that we have both Mr. and Mrs. Voss in custody, we’ll know for certain fairly soon.”
“And you’ll add to Carrie Voss’s charges her holding a gun on me and Gemma?”
“Of course,” she said flatly. “I’ll have you write up your statement today and email that to me.”
Carrie Voss had threatened me with a gun while I was holding Gemma. Then she’d threatened to hurt Ash if I didn’t comply. Adding that to whatever else she’d done, whatever part she played in the deaths of the others, would put her in prison for a very long time, and that didn’t upset me in the least. I needed her to pay for threatening people I loved.
“Also, so you know, Mr. Rhodes was extricated from Moldova last night. I spoke to a Captain Hunt, who said everything went according to plan.”
“That’s a good day,” I told her. “Getting everyone at once. You don’t always get days that good.”
“No, you don’t,” she agreed, and gave me a trace of a smile before taking a quick breath. “And now we’re going to leave and take the Vosses with us, but I want to apologize for arriving late here today. I’m known for being on site early. We should have been here before Carrie Voss threatened you with a gun.” She pulled a business card out of her coat pocket and handed it to me. “Please use the email there to send me your statement, and if I can be of service in the future, to you or the Cushing family, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thank you,” I said as we shook again.
They were gone quickly, and I knew from being a cop that the FBI only operated one way. I was betting they hadn’t even alerted the Maine State Police to their visit to Castine.
Once the door closed behind the Feds, I lunged at Ash and hugged him tight.
“I was so scared,” I told him. “I can’t lose you.”
“I feel the same,” he murmured and kissed me.
“Cooper!”
We parted, chuckling, and there was Gemma running as fast as her little legs would carry her. When she reached me, just ahead of her parents, Jeff carrying Taylor and Ainsley running with her boys, I scooped her up and hugged her so tight, she squeaked.
“Your boss called before Gemma got back,” Ash told me, “but we wouldn’t have known anything was amiss if Gemma hadn’t reported that the mean lady had a no-no toy.”
I glanced at Ainsley, who said, “My kids aren’t allowed to play with guns, and when we heard the lady had one, we all came right away.”
I grinned at her. “With a red foam bat.”
“I gave him my bat,” Timothy told me. “It’s small but hits good.”
“It certainly does,” Ash agreed.
Back in our room, after saying good night to the Cushing family, Ainsley having cried all over me for taking such good care of Gemma, I got out my laptop and wrote up my accounting of what happened to me and sent that off to SSA Merriweather. I had Ash read it first.
“That is very thorough, sir,” he said, smiling at me. “And not at all an interesting read. There’s no embellishment or whimsy in there at all. It’s just the facts.”
“Good,” I told him, scowling. “That’s what it’s supposed to be.”
“You gave that no artistic flourish. Like zero. You have no future as a novelist.”
“Oh that’s terrible. How will I live with myself.”
“Funny.”
After I kissed him, the two of us got comfortable on the sectional and called my boss.
Ash was surprised when he popped onto the screen, and I understood why. If someone had never met Jared Colter in person, from reading only his very sparse biography on the Torus website, they’d think he was either going to be a supersleek international man-of-mystery spy type, very much James Bond, or a supersoldier without a shred of humor or warmth, still wearing fatigues despite being retired. The fact was, he was both those things and many others, but at the moment, we were catching him at home, where he was on his couch, drinking bourbon. He was flanked by a chihuahua and a pittie, both fast asleep.