Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“And did they?”
“No. Why do you think I’m still here? I stole a car, fine. But I didn’t pull that trigger, she did. And I’m here on accomplice to murder charges. My life is over. They’re not gonna electrocute me, but they’re never gonna let me out. I didn’t even know she had a gun.”
It was almost too good to be true.
But after some research, I realized it was true. It didn’t take long, actually. Less than an afternoon. I left Olsen’s cell, found Nova Ryanzski in a prison three hours away, and went to see her.
SEVEN YEARS AGO
The woman behind the glass is nineteen years old but she has a worn-out look to her.
Pretty at one time, I’m sure. But right now, she’s nothing—tangled, greasy blonde hair on top of a too-skinny body and rounded out with a blotchy completion that does nothing for her fresh black eye.
The orange jumpsuit isn’t helping her case any, either.
Travis Olsen fell for this girl?
She looks like a crystal meth fiend.
But then I remember the first part of his story. The part where he’s known her since childhood. People change over the years and sometimes it takes a while for the new reality of that person to catch up with your preconceived ideas of them.
I press Mercer’s contact on my phone. He answers on the first ring. “What’s up?”
“Do you want to see her?”
“Sure.”
I switch the camera on my phone and give Mercer a good look through the two-way observation mirror.
“Oh, shit,” Mercer says. “I don’t know, Locke. She’s a hot fucking mess.”
“Just… picture it for a moment. What’s her new life look like?”
He blows out a breath. “I… you’ve got me. I can’t see one.”
“Come on. It’s so clear.”
“Is it?” He’s in a good mood and these words come out playfully. “Enlighten me.”
“Picture her as…” I actually laugh when the idea comes to me. “Picture her as a scientist.”
Mercer does laugh out loud. “Get real.”
“No. Listen. She’s…” I laugh again. “She’s a fucking brain surgeon.”
Mercer almost giggles. I want to touch him right now. I want to feel his cock in my hand. I want him to kiss me.
But most of all, I just want to make him happy. So I keep going.
“Oh, I got it. She’s not a brain surgeon, she’s a neuroscientist. And we’re recruiting her to help us—”
Mercer guffaws. But then stops.
“What?” I ask.
“You know, you might be on to something.”
“Hell, yeah, I am. She’s a neuroscientist. Just defended her dissertation. You show up outside the room, offer her this lucrative position with the Institute.”
“What the hell is the Institute?”
“A secret society”—he guffaws again—“a secret society doing secret research on the brain. Oh, I’ve got it. We’re developing a…” I look for the right words. “We’re developing a fantasy vacation pill. Oh, fuck. It’s like that movie. That fucking Arnold movie, ’member?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The Mars one.” I snap my fingers in the air. “Total Recall.”
“Huh.” Mercer pauses. “That kinda fits.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“You’re diabolical, Locke. You know that?”
“Well, I have learned from the best.”
He sighs. “I thought you said this Travis Olsen wanted her killed?”
“Isn’t erasing her life the same thing?”
“Jesus, Locke.”
“What? It is, right?”
“I guess. Do you think he’ll go for it?”
“I think I should talk to her first. What kind of promises should I make?”
“What’s this warden like?”
“Corrupt as fuck. Like all the rest. I paid him fifty grand for this visit. He’ll want a million for her fake suicide.”
“Shit. I was thinking… well. Not this. You want to suicide her? This one, really?”
“It’s the perfect setup. She’s got no family. She’s in for life. And judging from her black eye, she doesn’t make friends easily.”
“She’s… kinda gross. If we suicide her, we’re stuck with her. We can’t send her back, Locke.”
“She’s gonna clean up. Watch. I’ve got a good feeling about this one. If we suicide her, we can use her for years. Perfect the whole thing without interruption. Let me do the interview and I’ll call you back.”
“All right. Get back to me and we’ll decide. We can do a million for the warden, but if he haggles, no more than one point five.” He pauses. “Are you coming home tonight?”
“Why, do you miss me?”
“You’re cutting things close, that’s all.”
I come out of the memory saying these words in my head.
That’s all.
That’s all this ever was, wasn’t it?
Then I have another memory.
This time, it’s Olsen.
It was that same day. Earlier. When I was at his prison.
I understood his betrayal. It made sense. I mean, he got nabbed for murder and that wasn’t his fault.
And I get that criminals throw death threats all the time. I want you dead. I want them dead. I hope they die.
But ninety-nine times out of a hundred, these are throwaway threats.
Travis Olsen was serious.
He wanted her dead and I needed a better reason why.