Page 38 of Broken Crown

“You’re right.”He pushes back from the table, the sudden movement causing me to reach for my weapon.

“Easy.”He lifts both hands.“I’m just getting something out of the closet.A newspaper.”

I slide my hand away from the holstered pistol at my side, but keep my eyes fixed on him as he strides toward a door tucked in the corner of the kitchen.He opens it and retrieves a small box, rifling through it before pulling out a faded yellow newspaper.

“People do die in car accidents all the time.”He returns to the table, handing me the paper.

I study it, not immediately sure what I’m looking at, apart from it being the front page of the national newspaper the day of the avalanche that killed Esme’s aunt, uncle, and four of her cousins, propelling her and her brother from sixth and seventh in line to second and third.

Now first and second.

“What does the avalanche have to do—”

“This.”He turns the paper over and points to a tiny article on the bottom of the last page, a footnote of an event compared to the big headline.

I read the article and learn that a man by the name of Warren Clark, a well-known and hated paparazzo died in a car accident a few miles away from the avalanche, although it was completely unrelated to that tragic event.

“I don’t see what this has to do with anything.It says right here the police ruled it accidental after he lost control of his car.”

“I figured you might say that.”He places a second newspaper article in front of me, this one an obituary for Warren Clark.

As I read about his love for photography, I have to suppress the urge to roll my eyes or scoff, considering he eventually became one of the worst types of photographers in existence.During my time in the royal guard, I’ve had my fair share of encounters with the paparazzi.They’re the worst of the worst, pushing all sorts of boundaries and barriers, putting lives at risk.

But as I reach information about his personal life and learn who his surviving family members were, I dart my eyes back toward Hayes.

“Callie and Jack Sloane were his kids?”I can’t hide the disbelief in my voice.

Or the increasing suspicion.

“It seems an awful lot of tragedy for one family.Doesn’t it?First, their father dies in a car wreck when he loses control of his vehicle.Then Jack also dies in a car wreck a few months before Callie disappears.Then, a few days after your brother said he’d look into this for me, he dies in a car fire that’s nearly identical to the one that killed Callie’s brother.”

“Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The wreck that killed Adam wasn’t ruled an accident.It was determined to be a planned, executed attack.By you.”I pin him with a glare, studying his reaction.

But like all those weeks ago, there’s no indication he’s trying to cover up anything.He doesn’t avert his gaze.Doesn’t nervously fidget with his clothes.Doesn’t repeatedly lick his lips or blink.

Instead, his stare is unwavering when he declares, “I had nothing to do with that.”

I shouldn’t believe him, but the more I learn about Callie, Jack, and their father, the more I can’t ignore all the suspicious deaths.

“Regardless, there’s no proof these car wrecks are related.”I jab my finger at the newspaper.“Like I said, the wreck that resulted in Adam’s death wasn’t ruled an accident.”

“Because there was a survivor,” Hayes insists.“Did you ever stop to think what would have happened if there hadn’t been anyone to make a statement about what she saw?”

Truthfully, I’ve never wanted to consider the possibility of Esme not surviving that horrible night.It’s difficult enough knowing her life is constantly at risk by nature of who she is.I don’t need to sit here and contemplate her death more than I already do.

“It still doesn’t prove anything.”

When Hayes parts his lips to argue once more, I hold up a hand, interrupting him.

“But I will admit it’s suspicious.Especially if Adam was looking into this, as you claim.”

“He was.And he knew I was onto something, that there was some connection between Callie’s disappearance and her brother’s death.Why else would he help me disappear when I told him about the man with a scar following me?There’s something going on here.You know there is.Which is why I’m begging you to believe me.”He pauses.“And help me.”

I stare into the distance as I ruminate over everything he shared with me.About both Callie and her brother observing a man with a scar following them before they died.How Hayes had seen that same man after publicly accusing Jameson Gates of murder.How not only Callie’s brother died in a car wreck similar to the one Adam died in, but their father also did.

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