Page 191 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
When she nudges her head to the photos, I drop my eyes to study them. The first dozen are of a vast pool of blood that covers a carpeted surface. A pillow sits to the side, and a copper bullet is to its left. It’s marked as evidence one, two, and three. The remaining photos are of a trashed motel room. Nearly every surface is littered with shredded pillows, broken lamps, and pieces of the quilt Megan had on her bed.
“Was there any surveillance in the motel parking lot or hallways?”
When Regan shakes her head, I sigh. In a way, a lack of security is a godsend. Otherwise, they would have seen me illegally entering Megan’s room two weeks ago when I attempted to jimmy the lock before shoulder-barging it open, but it’s frustrating we didn’t catch the real culprit on camera.
“Was there any brain…” I cough to clear my throat. “… or organ matter found in the pool of blood?”
After gagging, Regan digs her hand into the large stack of reports she’s been tackling the past hour. Thirty seconds later, with twisted lips and a deep sigh, she shakes her head.
“So, Megan’s death wasn’t caused by a bullet. There would be some type of matter in the blood pool if it were the murder weapon.”
Regan hands me a blown-up picture of the bullet I’m referencing. “The bullet they recovered from Megan’s motel room has blood on it. It’s a match for Megan’s blood type.”
I shrug, not the least bit confronted. “That could be residue blood from a contaminated crime scene.”
After snagging Regan’s reading glasses off her desk, I use them as a magnifying glass so I can study the photo more closely. There’s barely anything to see but grooves scoured on a recently-fired bullet and some fibers caught in its wounds.
“What color was the carpet in Megan’s motel room?”
Regan checks a report before replying, “Stained cream if that’s its original color. Why?”
“There’s an inflexible dark fiber caught in the wounds surrounding the bullet.” I point out the fiber I’m mentioning. “When a bullet is fired, wounds to the bullet usually occur. If it were fired through a skull, fragments of bone would embed in its wounds. Even if it only grazed someone’s skin, skin tags would still be found. Although this bullet does have blood on it, there’s no other damage that would occur if it had been fired through someone. Wounds are indicating it was fired, but other than that, its wounds appear more as if they were shot through somethi—” I stop talking as my heart skyrockets.
Regan’s eyes track me when I leap out of my seat and rush into the living room. When Hugo senses my presence, his head lifts from a magazine he’s perusing. Obviously, the channel surfing he was doing the past hour became too draining for him.
“What happened to the car you were driving on the weekend?”
As his lips quirk, his expression ruffles.
“The car I shot the tires out, what happened to that car?”
Now he’s clued in. “Roger took it to a repair shop for new tires. Why?”
I twist the photo Regan showed me his way like he’ll see what I’m referencing from a distance. “The bullet recovered from the crime scene at Megan’s motel room has a material embedded in its wounds. It’s a dark material, and due to its inflexibility, it could be a vulcanized fiber. Like a material you’d get from shooting a bullet through a tire.”
Hugo’s mouth is opened wide, and his eyes are flicking, but not a word seeps from his lips. It’s for the best. I don’t need him to speak to know the next steps we need to take to have my charges expunged.
“Call Roger and find out where the tires were repaired. I think whoever is framing me for murder removed the bullets from your tires to plant them at the crime scene.”
His throat works hard to swallow. “If that’s true, that means there’s another bullet still out there.”
“I know.” My eyes bounce between Hugo and Regan, who just joined us in the living room. “That’s why we need to find out who’s doing this before they frame me for another murder.”
CHAPTER15
ISABELLE
Regina stiffens when I greet her with a hug. With my busy work schedule and everything going on with Isaac, I feel like I haven’t seen her in months. As usual, she’s taken aback by my friendliness, but her dark eyes relay it isn’t as bad as she’s making it out to be. After shooting her eyes around the foyer of Regan’s apartment, she returns them to my face. “A little fancier than my humble shack, kiddo.”
My heart warms from her comment. ‘Kiddo’ and ‘rabbit’ were my Uncle Tobias’s chosen terms of endearment anytime he referenced me.
I bump her with my hip before backing up my cuddle with my own analogy of times bygone. “But it’s nowhere near as homey, Ge Ge.” Ge Ge was what my uncle called her when they were a couple.
When moisture fills Regina’s eyes, I tug her into the opulent foyer before greeting Ryan with a smile. Dark rings are still circling his glacier-blue eyes, and his stubble is thicker than it was twenty-four plus hours ago, but he still has a face that belongs on aGQmagazine cover.
After returning my greeting with a lift of his chin, Ryan’s focus shifts to Hugo. He acknowledges Ryan and Regina’s presence with a head bob and turns his back on us so he can continue his conversation on his cell phone, no doubt talking to either Isaac or someone on his team as he has many times the past hour.
With Hugo’s manners nonexistent, I’m left with the task of introducing Ryan and Regina to Regan, who is seated on one of her large, plush sofas. The cushions are so luxurious, their plumpness nearly conceals her tiny frame. When she realizes we have company, she finalizes her call, places her cell phone onto the glass coffee table, then stands to greet her guests. It’s interesting watching her and Ryan interact. They’re both equally beautiful creatures, but neither seems fond of the other. Maybe it has something to do with the double alpha thing Regan mentioned yesterday?
