Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Seemed like my whole fucking life was in the balance. How the fuck had we come to this? For the first time, I almost regretted meeting her on that set almost four years ago. Man, why did that thought feel like a fucking betrayal?
They were all sitting around the table waiting for me, I guess. James that fuck had a drawing board set up with graphs and colored tacks pinned all over it. The fuck, was this CSI LA or some fuck?
"Gage."
"James." I inclined my head; there wasn't much more to say this motherfucker knew some fucked up shit about my girl, and I didn't know how to fucking process.
"Right, so as you can see, I've set up a timeline and these right here." He pointed to the multicolored tacks.
"These are representative of communications between point A and point B." Stoic motherfucker did this bitch have any facial expressions at all?
"Here where you see the cluster of red is Miss. O’Reilly, let's call her point A, and here where you see the blue is Poole."
The fuck? I was at the edge of my seat already, and he hadn't even gotten started.
"What we have here is a series of calls between O’Reilly and Poole and vice versa. Now we can surmise that the two had to work together because of Miss. Sorenson, but my sources confirm that there's way too much interaction for that purpose.
So, first question, why the back and forth? Since we can't go back and listen in on past conversations, we did the next best thing. All communication devices belonging to the two parties are now being monitored."
"Is that legal?"
He gave Tiffany a look like she was stupid, and that shut her right the fuck up. I didn't even want to fucking know; whatever works.
"Right; next order of business when we follow the trail here." He pointed to some yellow tacks; what the fuck? Is this Sesame Street or some fuck? Just saying.
"These two have been communicating with this gentleman, a man by the name of Humphreys. If you notice the timeline, you will see the contacts between the three really heated up about a week before and up until a couple of days after the story broke. At which time all communication ceased. This is all just surface stuff, so we started digging deeper, and what we've found so far is that."
He took an erasable marker and drew a line from the red dots to the yellow.
"These two are related; O’Reilly and Humphreys are related by marriage. Humphreys is a washed-up alcoholic wanna-be photographer. This was his mother lode, on the day of, let's call it operation cluster fuck."
No, let's not.
"Communication between the three was hot; cell records triangulation show that these two." He drew a line from Humphreys to Poole. "Were in the vicinity of Miss. Sorenson's gym in separate cars, of course, but both within walking distance."
I'm sitting here livid as fuck, not sure what to think. All I keep seeing is my Butterfly in that car. Knowing what I know now, it's finally hitting home that someone set out to do this to destroy us but why? And who the fuck was the real target? Her, me, or both of us?
And why the fuck has Karen O’Reilly been calling me nonstop for the past few days?
The beast was raging again, fighting to get out. If I set that motherfucker free, there would be nothing but fucking chaos, from here into the motherfucking ether.
Frontpage? This shit wouldn't hit the front pages this motherfuck would consume the whole fucking thing.
"I want everything you get when you get it; they took this shit to the public, well let it play out there but not on their terms on mine. I want to bury these two fucks so deep even sonar can't find them." I had to get the fuck out of the room as my family started asking questions.
I'd heard enough for the day. I just needed to see my girl and my dog. Fucking sap.
She was finally awake when I collected Rex and headed to her room. She looked so fucking small and vulnerable, laying there, my hoodie swallowing her small frame. She looked up when she noticed me standing there watching her. It was time.
"Let's take a walk."
CHAPTER 25
The first ten minutes of our walk were spent in silence; neither of us seemed to know where to begin, so we watched Rex's antics as he was let off his leash.
My family owned a shit load of property, and since the back butted against private forestry, there was no worry of the fucking vultures seeing us. Mom was convinced we'd seen the last of them in these parts, but I knew better; I'm sure some enterprising soul would try to find a way in.
I wondered whether or not I should tell her about meeting with James and what was found, but that didn't seem like a good place to start.