Page 111 of Convict's Game
Cassie hummed. She collected a pad of paper, her plate cleared, and wrote ‘Victim’ and Esther’s name at the top of one page, then ‘Suspects’ on a second, listing Salter and her unknown buyer.
“I’ll make notes of the evidence as we discover it,” she commented.
Under Esther, she added a bullet point: ‘Discovered dead in the harbour’.
“Add the bracelet,” I suggested. “It’s our clue to the timeline. My guess is she was killed directly after the auction, otherwise why would she still have it on?”
We added what else we knew. Her name, her role. I liked the feeling of creating a record. Then above the suspects, Cassie wrote: ‘Means, motive, and opportunity’, but we could only populate her buyer having her after the auction as an opportunity. After that, we were stuck.
Lovelyn made a sound of success. “I’ve found the case file for the explosion. There are no witness statements yet, but a detective has been assigned.” She read, drumming her fingers on the counter. “Oh, that’s interesting. An initial review of CCTV shows the busy road nearby but also two figures on the outer harbour wall at some point before the explosion. The timestamp isn’t noted. The operator records that they appear to be all in black.”
My mind raced over the report. What couple would want theEdendestroyed and also have the capacity to do it? “Wait, could that be Convict and Arran? They watched it explode.”
“Damn. Yes, possibly.”
A knock came at the door. Cassie went to answer it.
“Mila? It’s for ye.”
I jogged over to find Convict waiting in the hall.
My heart swelled.
He didn’t come in, instead giving me an unsure look. From obsessed maniac to lost boy. I was falling for the whole range he covered.
“I don’t want to interrupt, but I’m done. We found Salter. It’s the right place, and he’s barricaded up tight. Kane’s watchingfor an opening, but it’ll take strategy. This won’t be a smash-and-grab.” His gaze soaked me in. “I’m going to hang around downstairs and make myself useful until you’re ready.”
“Are you checking up on me?”
“Nah, just loitering like a very handsome stalker.” His lips curved. “I’m missing having CCTV to watch you on.”
I’d missed him, too. It had been under an hour, and I wanted to jump into his arms.
“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” I forced out. If I obeyed my instincts, I’d fly at him, and that wasn’t healthy at all.
He turned to go.
“Con?”
He came back around, and a slow smile tipped up his lips. “First time you’ve used that nickname for me. Any, if I think about it.”
Why did that tug at my heartstrings? “Give me thirty minutes then I’m all yours.”
“There’s nothing I want more, beautiful.”
He left, and I closed the door and leaned on it. Cassie was clearing up the kitchen, a tablet on her countertop displaying a live feed of downstairs in the warehouse.
She caught me staring. “I’m watching Riordan at work. I get withdrawal symptoms if I can’t ogle him for a while.”
I smiled, considering how Convict would do the same if we had cameras in here, and grabbed a cloth to help. “I take it you’ve been together for a while.”
“Nope, but I knew the second I saw him and I’ve been obsessed since. It took longer and some minor kidnapping to convince him he was mine.” She breathed out happily.
She was joking, surely.
Side by side, we cleaned up, then I returned to my task and wrote a very bland statement for the relatives, sending it to all of their emails.
The whole time, the ticking clock of returning to Convict gained increasing urgency. I’d always believed relationships had to follow a certain path or they weren’t right. Knowing someone didn’t happen overnight. You had to see them happy, sad, stressed, and that took time.
