Page 2 of Ugly Truths
My eyes narrow. “And?”
“The trail goes cold, except for this.” He clicks on a link before a news article fills the screen.
25-Year-Old Woman Found Murdered in Chandler Apartment in Apparent Robbery Gone Wrong
I skim the article. Drew Bennet was stabbed twenty-six times with one of her kitchen knives while her roommate, Elena Cross, was grocery shopping. The building didn’t have cameras, and there was no forced entry. No leads or suspects outside of Elena, who was cleared by surveillance footage showing her at the grocery store at the time of the attack. Less than one thousand dollars' worth of items were stolen.
There’s a photo of the woman with a big smile and bright green eyes, which are amplified by the camera flash. She’s clearly in a bar, leaning close to a person cropped out of the image. She appears happy and so damn young.
It takes me a moment to process the connection he’s making. “You think she did this?” I ask.
Davey doesn’t answer right away. He’s frowning at the screen, fingers tapping against the laptop’s edge. “It’s possible she planned it, at least. It’d help explain why she went underground.”
I stare at the screen. Twenty-six stab wounds. That’s not a random act of violence. It’s calculated, personal, and not the woman I thought I knew. But then again, what did I actually know about her?
“What else?” I demand, leaning back in my seat.
“Her parents divorced and moved to different states after she graduated from high school. Cill’s trying to figure out if she has any contact with them, but it doesn’t seem likely. We also found a bank account and a safety deposit box connected to her name at a local bank in Arizona.”
Something hot thrums in my chest. “They’ll notify us if there’s any activity?”
Davey nods. “Already in the works.”
“And these details?” I gesture towards his laptop.
“In your personal inbox.”
I tap my trackpad and pull up the email from Davey, skimming through it again while he waits.
“Good,” I finally respond, stopping at the yearbook photo. My stomach churns even looking at her again. “She’ll need money eventually.”
Davey straightens, closing his laptop as he says, “I’ll keep digging.” He only manages to take a few steps toward the door before pausing to look over his shoulder at me. “Silas, are you sure this is what you want?”
I release a long breath.
This isn’t the first time he’s tried to check in on this… fixation. He’s been concerned about it since I met her. He was worried that I was moving too fast, especially since I had never acted that way with a woman before. Davey has always had a good read on people, and I trust his judgment without hesitation almost always, but something in me didn’t want to listen this time.
She was just different, and that was the point, wasn’t it? Never gave me the time of day, which I wasn’t used to. Strong-willed, strong physically. Always had a smart-ass remark. I hadn’t realized how much I liked that in a woman until the first time we spoke and she insulted me almost instantly. No hesitation or second-guessing. Just cut straight through me like she already decided I wasn’t worth impressing.
It had been a long time since someone looked at me like that, and even longer since I found myself caring, but that was the thing about her. Scarlett didn’t try to charm me or win me over. If anything, she was daring me to prove I was worth her time. And damn it, if that wasn’t the quickest way to get under my skin.
It doesn’t help that she was so goddamnbeautiful. The kind that didn’t just turn heads, it messed with them. That face, with its sharp cheekbones and full, knowing lips. Always poised like she was in on some secret the rest of us weren’t clever enough to figure out. But it was her eyes that hooked me. Light brown and in the right light, they turned gold like whiskey. Or honey.
Since she left, Davey has tried to pull me back from the edge, especially after we combed through local and regional hospitals looking for any woman admitted with injuries consistent with an explosion. Not a single patient fit the description.
Then, there was the official police report that stated an unidentified female body was found during the clean-up. My team was there from start to finish thanks to our law enforcement connections, and there wasn’t any sign of said-body.
And yet, every time I’ve questioned where this supposed body was, not a single person could give me a real answer. Just a constant loop of half-assed explanations and conflicting stories. Enough to make it clear that no one actually knows who reported the finding, but they’re all too cowardly to correct it on the off-chance it is true.
Somehow, she managed to get into the police reports and alter the files. She thought she could fake her own death right under my nose and expect me to believe it. She underestimated me, just as I did her. The difference is, there’s nowhere she can run where I won’t eventually find her.
Stupid girl.
Davey thinks we should wait and see if anything surfaces on its own, but that’s not good enough for me. It never will be. Not until I look her in the eyes and demand all the answers she’s denied me.
I hold up my hand to him. “Just get me her location.”
My brother-in-law holds my gaze for another moment before conceding. With a curt nod, he turns back to leave but pauses at the door, his hand on the handle.
