Page 70 of Cruel Honor

“The library,” I tell her. “I need to explain to Sally and the others where I’ve been. I’m sure they’re worried.” Sally is one of the librarians who took me under her wing when I first volunteered as a teenager.

Juno scrambles out of her chair and hurries to my side. “But—but what about us? I thought we could spend the day together.”

“We can spend some time together later. I just really need to get to the library now.”

“But I thought we could try the police again. You could tell them about Dimitri.”

She isn’t wrong about going back to the police. I have the photos of Dima’s house I need to give them.

I sigh. “Fine. You’re right. Let’s go talk to Detective Johnson again. I can show him the photo’s I took of Dima’s house. Hopefully, then, he’ll do something about it.”

“You’re not going to press charges against Dimitri?”

Instantly, I know I can’t do that. “I just want Dima found.” I walk away before Juno can make me feel weird for not wanting to press charges against the man who forced me into a marriage.

I should hate Dimitri, but I don’t, and there’s no point in denying that.

We go back to the same police station, and I ask to speak to Detective Johnson. I tell the officer behind the desk that it’s very important.

“What do you have for me?” Johnson asks once we’re at his desk.

“Here.” I hand him my phone. “I went back to the place that Dima, your serial killer, took me to. This is it.” I swipe through the photos. “Here’s the basement he took me to. Where he strapped me up and almost killed me. You have proof. You need to stop him.”

He stares at the phone for a long time before looking at me. “How did you get these photos?”

“I went back to his place.”

“Wasn’t that dangerous?”

“It was. He was there, and he almost hurt me again, but I got away.”

“How?” I don’t like the look in Detective Johnson’s eyes. Like he doesn’t believe me again.

“Dimitri saved me,” I admit.

“Ah. Dimitri Ivanov again. Still no new information on him to give me?”

“No. We’re not together anymore. There’s nothing for me to tell. What I can tell you is that this man”—I point to my phone— “Dima is your killer. You have his address. You can look into it. I am an actual witness. It’s worth looking into, and you know it.”

He sighs deeply and takes my phone. “All right. We’ll look into it. But if he’s innocent …”

“Trust me. He isn’t. You have no reason not to believe me, so why don’t you believe me?”

“A pretty girl like you is probably just looking for attention. We hear it all the time.”

I lean forward in my seat, my hands curled into fists. “Well, I’m not lying. He tried to kill me. You have no proof I’m lying. All you have is me saying what I went through, which if I was a detective, would make me look into it. So, look into it.”

“I don’t take kindly to little girls bossing me around.”

If I were Dimitri, I would lunge across this table and shake Johnson for being so stupid.

But I’m not Dimitri. I was never even actually with Dimitri.

“Please look into it,” I say, trying a different tactic. “You have his address. Photos of his basement. There’s no denying that.”

“Fine. I’ll keep your phone, though.”

“But I need it.”

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