Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
"Right. Just that Finn, the most likely candidate, did it."
I shouldn't have been so upset. I'd told myself it was a long shot. I'd prepared myself for being laughed out of the precinct, for being called an idiot. I knew the chance of being believed was slim. I should have been able to take his disbelief.
I felt like I was crumbling.
I knew that was to be expected. I was frazzled. Emotionally, from the upheaval of the whole situation. But also physically, from staying awake for nearly three days working on this case, trying to find more evidence, trying to make sure I was bringing the best possible file I could to the police.
I needed some solid sleep.
But I couldn't have that yet.
Not until I got some answers.
"Poppy, here," Lloyd said, sighing as he reached for his stack of sticky notes, jotting something down, then reaching across the desk to slap it on the cover of my file.
It was a name.
And an address.
"Quinton Baird & Associates," I read, feeling like the name was vaguely familiar. Like I'd maybe passed a building with that sign a couple times or something like that.
"I think maybe you should catch a nap, then head on over to Quin's office. Have a little chat with him."
"A chat about what?"
"About what you're showing me."
"I don't even know Quinton Baird. Why should I trust him?"
"Because he has the answers you need, Poppy. I can't give them to you," Lloyd said, getting to his feet, refastening his suit jacket. "Trust me. That's where you need to head next."
"Fine," I said, getting to my feet, my jaw so tight my teeth ached. And, much to my complete and utter humiliation, I could feel tears stinging in my eyes. I had to blink rapidly to fight them back.
"Poppy, hey, it's going to make a lot more sense. And maybe take some of that horror out of your eyes," he told me before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"Thanks for your time, Detective," I mumbled before making my way back out to my car parked down the side street, tossing the file on my passenger seat, then dropping down in the driver's seat, leaning my head back, closing my eyes, and trying to pull myself back together.
"Poppy?" a voice asked, making me snap my eyes open, startled to hear my name. My heartbeat tripped into overdrive, realizing I'd left my driver's side door wide open, something I always told my followers never to do. You were supposed to check your backseat, climb in, and immediately lock your doors. Always. And if you needed to sit for a minute, start your engine, and make sure your windows were up.
"You okay?" the voice asked again, leaning down so I saw more than legs.
"Blake," I said, pressing a hand to my heart. "Jesus, you scared me."
"I am going to have to report you to your followers," he told me, smirking, as he rested his arm above my door to look at me. "Leaving your door not only unlocked, but open," he added, tsking his tongue.
"I know. I was so distracted on this... this new case," I said, not sure I could tell another soul the truth, and risk being laughed at or disbelieved. I was too fragile. As much as I hated to admit that even just in my own head.
"Right," Blake said, tone sharp.
"So what are you doing in this part of..." I started.
I never would get the chance to finish, though, because one moment, Blake was just standing there, being an old friend of mine. The next, he was pulling something out of a plastic bag in his pocket, and pressing it over my face.
A soaked rag.
I knew exactly what was happening.
I knew exactly how long I had until I passed out.
But as soon as Blake leaned over me, crushing me against my seat, using one forearm across my chest, pinning me so hard I was sure there would be bruises when I woke up, there was no getting away.
I struggled in the cramped space while acutely aware that I was going to pass out.
And wake up in a second location.
Nothing good ever happened at a second location.
But as the sleep started to claim me, I knew I would be forced to find out for myself.
Alex is on the Case
"Hey, guys. I don't have time for my usual intro. Today is an emergency update to bring you some truly awful news that is rocking the true crime community.
"Good friend of mine, and beloved content creator in the true crime niche, Poppy Annabelle Larson from Crime Time with Poppy has been reported missing by her mother.
"No one knows how long Poppy has been missing, but police say the last sighting of her was, in fact, at the Navesink Bank police station, bringing in tips for a case. As far as anyone can say, she exited the NBPD building at eleven a.m. the day before yesterday. And no one has seen her since.