Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I shift a stack of papers aside. My office is nothing special—bare walls, a metal filing cabinet in the corner, and a single desk lamp offering a dull glow. Normally it’s my sanctuary, but right now, it feels claustrophobic. “I’ve been combing through every shred of evidence,” I say, resting my forearm on the desk. “Nothing suggests he’s working with a team. I get that you think he might be, but so far, he’s just a lone creep with a grudge.”
Dean sighs, a heavy sound that buzzes through the speaker. “But why, Orion? Why go to these lengths? The guy’s not an idiot—he knows if he keeps pushing, we’ll eventually find a way to bury him. So there’s got to be a motive beyond just wanting Briar back.”
I flip open a manila folder. “Could it be he’s after her parents’ money? That’s the only angle that keeps coming to mind.”
“Likely,” Dean agrees, “but according to our checks, he’s not drowning in gambling debts or anything that would suggest an immediate need for cash.”
I slump in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. “So if it’s not gambling or a big con, what is it? Revenge? Obsession? I wish I had answers.”
“Me too.” There’s a pause on Dean’s end, and I can practically see him running a hand over his stubbled jaw. “I’ll keep digging. You hang tight and keep an eye on Briar. The moment we find anything concrete, we’ll move.”
“Understood,” I murmur, eyes lingering on a photo of Jason and Briar before I quickly set it aside. “Thanks, Dean.”
We exchange quick goodbyes, and I tap the phone’s screen to end the call. The hum of my desk lamp suddenly feels loud in the quiet. For a moment, I just sit here, letting the tension bleed out of my shoulders. This case is a damn riddle. Jason’s crossed every boundary, but we have no proof he’s got anyone else helping him. No clue what his endgame is, aside from terrorizing Briar.
Pushing back from the desk, I gather the scattered papers into a neat stack. That’s all I can do for now, short of pacing a hole in the floor.
When I step out of my makeshift office, I hear Briar’s voice drifting from the living room, light and coaxing. “That’s it, Jeb. Good boy!” There’s a chirpy squeak in response, and a soft flutter of feathers. I follow the sound, rounding the corner to find Briar crouched on the floor, a small dish of treats beside her. Jeb sits perched on a portable stand, bobbing his head.
“Good job, Jeb,” she says, voice brimming with excitement. “Now, can you wave?”
Jeb cocks his head, as if in thought, then lifts one foot in a tiny wave. Briar laughs and hands him a treat, and I can’t help but grin at the scene. It’s a far cry from the tension we’ve been living under.
“Looks like you two are in the middle of some serious training,” I say, stepping closer. Jeb turns his head to eye me, his red tail feathers twitching.
Briar glances up, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, I figured it would be good to help him settle in. He’s been off his routine, poor thing.”
I nod, watching as Jeb takes another treat from her hand. “He’s got a real knack for these tricks. Too bad he’s not a performer. Like that other bird at the zoo. The famous one.”
She chuckles, standing up and dusting off her knees. “Chester? Yeah Chester’s in a league of his own—most famous bird in the world. Over twelve million followers on social media. A total superstar.”
“Yeah, I bet Jeb could be more famous than him,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
She barks out a laugh. “Oh, Jeb’s definitely funnier and better in every way, but the stage fright. He’ll do a bunch of tricks when it’s just me, but bring an audience, and he clams up.” Her face softens as she scratches Jeb’s head. “Not everyone’s cut out for the spotlight.”
I watch the bird preen under her attention. “Well, he seems content to be your little buddy. Don’t think he’s too broken up about not being Internet famous.”
Briar gives a playful shrug. “Probably not. But I can dream, right?”
I crack a smile. “Sure. I can see you and Jeb taking the world by storm—who needs Chester?”
She laughs, nudging me with her elbow as she steps past me. “Exactly. Who needs Chester?”
“Who needs Chester?” Jeb squawks out. “Who needs Chester?”
The moment feels light, unburdened by the weight of our troubles. But it doesn’t last. My mind can’t help drifting back to the lingering questions about Jason—and the note hidden in my jacket pocket. I haven’t found the right time to show it to Briar yet. She’s calm right now, and I don’t want to yank her back into fear mode. Tomorrow, I decide, once we’ve formulated a better plan. Or maybe I should show her now…?