Page 98 of Wicked Promises (Fallen Royals 3)

“No.”

He nods like he expected that answer. “I’m calling in the police. They’ll take some photos, see if they can collect some evidence, statements from you all, and then we’ll go from there. Excuse me.”

He pulls out his phone as he heads down the stairs.

Lenora reappears. “Nothing is missing. Not even a hair out of place. Where did Jim go?”

“Downstairs,” Robert says. “We should all go down. Try not to… contaminate anything.”

Lenora shudders. “After this is over, we’re redoing that room. New window with many locks. Whatever furniture or paint you want. Anything—”

“It’s okay,” I whisper.

We go downstairs. I perch on a stool at the breakfast bar while Lenora paces the kitchen. And Robert lowers himself onto the couch, groaning under his breath.

This really isn’t fair. Not by a mile.

My phone has been silent. No new messages from Riley or Caleb—nothing from Unknown, either.

Detective Masters comes back inside. “They’ll be here in a few moments. You don’t have any idea who might’ve done this? Or what the words on the wall meant?”

I shake my head. “I thought it had to be someone from school, since they texted Caleb and warned him that Ian was taking me into the woods. And they were at a party at Ian’s house, too. But lately…”

The car belonging to Tobias, who’s a known associate of the Ashers, is just too coincidental.

“I don’t know,” I finish lamely.

“This is probably enough to find out the number that’s been texting you,” he says. “I’m going to head back to the station and work on that. I’ll be in touch.”

Lenora nods sharply. “Thank you, Detective.”

We sit in silence for a moment.

Police aren’t the bad guys in this situation. I’ve had my fair share of fear when it comes to cops—especially that one time I ran away—and Detective Masters does have a tendency to look down his nose at me, whether because I’m a foster or a teenager, I don’t know.

Still. Worth a shot.

I get up and rush after him, outside without even a coat on.

He stops beside his car, eyebrows raising.

“Ms. Wolfe?”

“I have a… theory.”

He waves for me to continue.

“How does a public defender rise to partner at a big law firm in two years?”

Detective Masters says nothing.

“When I asked Tobias Hutchins that very question—”

He holds up his hand. “You know him? When did you meet him?”

“Riley and I went to his office in the city. He defended my dad—badly. If you know anything about that trial—”

“I was a rookie,” he says, softening. His eyes go to the sky. “Let’s go back inside. You’ve intrigued me.”

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