Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
But by the time I realized it was a dead end and a death sentence, I guess it was too late…
He picked up his phone once again, and as he heard the sirens approaching, he pretended to call his mother one last time…
Good evening, Mom. I think this is my last call to you. I’m so sorry. I’ve let you down.
What happened, Nikolai? He could hear her say. What is the trouble?
I tried to be better, Mom. I tried to make this right… I was happy for a while, too. I found love. My dreams were coming true, but then, reality set in.
Mom, the monster won…
CHAPTER TWENTY
Porsche sat down at the dining room with a fresh cup of coffee. Echo Thrills’ ‘Stars of Juno,’ eased her into the right mind space. She’d been working through the night trying to find more information about Ethan, as well as more clues about the case in general. Her home was a wreck, papers all over the place, but she kept a board with a timeline—including names, clues, and dates—as organized as possible.
She stood and stretched, trying to move her muscles, then sat back down in her dining room chair, using the table as a large desk to put the puzzle pieces of the case together. She sat there contemplating all the leads she needed to follow up on. More than likely dead ends, yet it never boded well to not look under every single rock, even if there was a slim chance of anything worthwhile resting beneath it. Sometimes, evidence was found in the unlikeliest places.
She crossed her legs and took another sip of coffee while her mind raced. For some reason, she didn’t feel quite right. A sense of sadness came over her. Maybe it was fatigue? Maybe it was due to looking at dead people day in, day out? She’d left the force to escape from this… She’d retired. Now, she was back in the thick of it, and she couldn’t turn back even if she tried.
Her conversation with Ava the previous evening had left her disturbed, too. The woman was holding on to hope once the rumor of Ethan’s arrest hit the news. But she tried to tell her as tactfully as she could that he was still just a suspect, at which point she was met with more tears. The woman had offered to throw more money at the situation, as if that was the reason for the slowdown. Money didn’t solve every problem, although sometimes it could buy a little more time.
She scratched her scalp as she spoke to herself out loud, and realized part of her hair was matted. She hadn’t combed it in three days, and also couldn’t recall the last time she’d had an actual real meal that consisted of more than coffee, gummy bears, and popcorn. With a sigh, she checked the time on her laptop and kept working. After a few minutes, she let out a scream of excitement.
“That’s it! I can use that money from Ava to do something! Post a reward for anyone with information! Now that they’ve made it public about Ethan, and more women are coming forth saying he abused them, too, I might as well use this to my advantage… turn these lemons into lemonade.”
She yanked her laptop closer and began drafting the reward notification.
If you have any information regarding any of the disappearances or murders on Old Orchard Beach, please contact Private Investigator Porsche Lee, at 207-555-0173.
$10,000 Reward.
She posted it several place online, then placed an order for expedited placement on a few local billboards, and put in an additional order at a neighborhood print shop to have flyers made.
Moments later, she was cringing as she wetted her hair and tried to finger detangle the thick matting at her crown. She sprayed detangler and a tad of coconut oil to allow a bit of slip. After about twenty minutes, she finally got the coils released and promptly shampooed and conditioned her hair… put it in two long braids, then pinned it up… brushed her teeth… took a shower… put on clean clothes. She glanced at the time on her cellphone before grabbing her purse to head out and pick up the flyers.
Just then, her phone rang. She paused in her living room and slid her cellphone out of her purse, noting it was Captain White.
She hadn’t heard from him since he’d showed up in the middle of the night several days ago, with the files that the chief had wanted to destroy. He’d reminded her not to tell a soul, worried about the consequences yet aware it was the right thing to do. That time he’d left her home looking rather pitiful, but she was thankful he had a conscience and understood the seriousness of the situation.
“Hey Captain White, I was just on my way out. What can I help you with?”