Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Beckham looked around the table of gathered detectives. “This is Colton Majors, our number one suspect at the moment. He’s a relatively new resident to Blue Creek, moving into a home in the Blades a year and a half ago. The murders began a year ago, so the timeline is there. Colton also has a criminal record as long as a CVS receipt, with the most recent being a restraining order put in place by two of his previous girlfriends. His number was discovered in Wendy’s phone, and he worked with Julius on a couple construction projects at drag queen club, the Queen’s Throne.
“But Colton also has an alibi for both murders, although it isn’t a bulletproof one. He says he was with a friend out of town, but we haven’t been able to speak to that friend, and cell records put him in the Blades.”
“What’s he got to say about that?” I asked.
“Said he left his cell phone at home. He thought it was broken, so he picked up one of those burner phones from Best Buy.”
Another question popped into my head. “Does he have any connections with the Unicorn? I know he’s serving a life sentence, but maybe they linked up sometime in the past.”
“It’s something I was looking into right before I got the news I had to head back to Miami. From what I found, no. There’s nothing tying him together with Leo. They never went to the same school, worked the same job, lived in the same town. Nothing.”
Ryan Diaz, another of Blue Creek’s home detectives, pointed at the photo grid on the projector. “Look at that photo, the one in the third row all the way to the end, where is that? What’s he standing by?”
The photo magnified, taking up the entire screen. It depicted Colton, smoking a cigarette and standing in front of a large statue at an outdoor museum. The statue was of a man riding a horse, the horse rearing up on its hind legs, large marble wings stretching out from its shoulders.
A Pegasus.
“This photo sent up red flags for me too,” Beckham answered. “It was taken three years ago at a statue garden in California. I haven’t been able to find any other references to Greek mythology, but this one is interesting.”
“Do we have any other suspects?” Mark Masters asked. He had come from the New York branch of Stonewall to help out with the case.
“Colton’s our top one right now. We’re looking at a few other newcomers to Blue Creek before we widen the net to people who have been here longer,” I said. It was time for me to start taking the lead on this. The briefing was mainly to catch everyone else up on the case, but I’d been poring over every detail Beckham handed to me since I arrived in Blue Creek about two weeks ago. Finding this monster had become my top priority, and I wasn’t going to let anything interfere with that. Work meant everything to me (mainly because I had nothing else besides work to focus on), and I was determined to solve this case.
“What about—” My question was cut off by a knock on the door. Darien peeked his head inside, waving for my attention.
“Sorry to interrupt. There’s just someone up front. He’s, uhm, well, I think you should talk to him, Jason.”
I stood up from my seat and squeezed around the table. Our offices were located above a pet store, and although the windows offered some great views, the space itself was limited. I made it around the table and reached Darien, who opened the door and let me out into the hall.
“What’s going on?” I asked him as we walked the short way up to the front desk.
“He says he’s here to work on the Pegasus case. I know you’re taking it over today, and no one ever mentioned a new addition to the team. It’s a little suspicious, plus he said he’s from…”
I didn’t process anything else Darien said. Turning the corner and seeing the familiar face in front of Darien’s desk was like dumping a couple of buckets of ice over my head. Like a kick straight to the kidney. A shock.
I couldn’t believe it was him. Standing there, looking casual as all fuck in his black sport jacket and gray slacks, his impenetrable sunglasses still sitting on his face. Even without seeing his eyes, I knew who he was. I could recognize that silhouette in the dark during a monsoon.
“Matthew? What the hell are you doing here?” My jaw wasn’t on the floor; it had fallen even farther than that, down to about the fifth circle of hell.
Darien looked at me with his eyebrows raised. Houston, the cockatoo who had chosen our agency as his favorite hangout spot, mimicked his best friend and raised his bright yellow crest in my direction, an apparent display of surprise.