Chapter 4 #3
Her identity wasn’t up for debate and neither was Josiah’s accusations. I now understood Mr. Blackwood more. I now understood how he’d fallen from grace so gracefully.
“Scholar from kindergarten until senior year. Graduated a year early and at the top of your class. During your senior year, you were also taking college courses, completely obliterating your prerequisite list.
“By the time you reached your Ivy League campus, you were already three semesters ahead of your classmates. Your love for chemistry blossomed. Your hunger for education never faltered. Even after you’d graduated.
All through your master's program your performance never wavered.
Your doctoral program proved more of the same.
“You’ve sat in rooms at tables alongside people who were light-years ahead of you in the industry.
Still, you managed to make fools of them all with your sharp yet studious nature.
You led pharmacy after pharmacy to success, even when they were sinking.
And after gaining the experience you assumed you needed, you started Blackwood Pharmaceutical.
“BP hasn’t experienced a bad year… quarter… month… week… day… hour… minute… second… Not until now. Not until you were accused of murder. Tell me–”
I wished I could recant. I wished I could’ve asked a different question. A less condemning one. One that wasn’t as personal. For me. Because, I was desperate to know how my perfect gentleman had ended up with cuffs around his hands and legs.
Just like my Teddy.
I wanted his story. I needed his story. I needed his reason. His why. It fueled my fire. It pushed me into overdrive. It helped each case I represented. It would help his.
Tears welled in my eyes.
“Whew. Okay,” I urged, “Focus, baby. Focus.”
Still, they fell. They fell hard, crashing onto the keyboard.
Oh please, baby.
I patted beneath my eyes, careful not to smear my freshly applied makeup. It didn’t matter the hour or that I wouldn’t see anyone else tonight. I’d polished my face perfectly because of my free will. And, because it satisfied me a great deal.
Arbs**
Arbs***
Arbs****
Details
I clicked the details. A PDF was stored along with a list of files, each containing a full name with buyer in parentheses beside it. One by one, I searched the names on the web.
Harold Ward (Buyer)
Deceased.
Kent Staple (Buyer)
Deceased.
Brian Bengum
Deceased.
Jake Washington (Buyer)
Deceased.
Ellis Rodgers (Buyer)
Deceased.
Lewis Lloyd (Buyer)
Deceased.
Nathanial Sharp (Buyer)
Deceased.
One obituary after the other deepened the layers of the case Josiah was fighting. Anthony wasn’t his first victim. I could only wonder if he’d be the last.
I opened the PDF file. A link appeared at the very top with a username and password beneath it. I entered, cautiously, head tilting as I clicked and scrolled.
My God!
I’d stumbled upon a circus full of men who were interested in the exploitation of children, stemming from inappropriate images to videos of them in compromising positions. Their innocence was displayed all over their young faces.
Unable to handle anymore, I moved the cursor toward the top of the page and clicked the red circle to exit.
Underneath the website and passcode was a second address, labeled with caution. My eyes wandered toward the set of keys next to the desktop.
Caution. The word stuck out like a sore thumb, causing me to take a look at the Dior pumps on my feet.
Caution. I took heed, knowing the warning was purposeful.
I retraced my steps, secured the memory card, and locked up behind me.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
I reached my car’s trunk and lifted it. I replaced my Dior pumps for socks.
I slid into a pair of Chanel trainers. Over my Dior jeans and top, I slid into the white suit.
For years, I’d suffered underneath the hideous fabric.
However, with Rugger’s help, I designed an indestructible prototype that snatched my waste and kept me protected as the Hazmat suit was intended for.
After sliding into my car, I adjusted the settings on my GPS and typed in the address I’d discovered not long ago. Silence greeted me and kept my heart light as I took the winding road to the main road and then the main road to the highway.
Off the highway.
Down the quiet residential streets.
Pass the well-populated neighborhood into the outskirts.
And, finally, into the secluded driveway of the small home.
It was a mere two thousand square feet. Still, it was gorgeous. Ranch-style. Surrounded by just as much land as the last home. Horse barns were to the far left of the property. Fences covered it completely, helping maintain privacy.
I exited my vehicle with my tool bag in my hand, and slid into the plastic shoe covers. As I stepped onto the porch, I placed the final piece of the suit on my body, securing it around my neck.
2266448
I entered the dark residence. There wasn’t a light on in the home. I didn’t need one.
Slowly, I lowered my toolbag. It hit the floor with a small thud. I slid my hand down the side and retrieved my light.
My very special light.
My favorite light.
The light that helped reveal mess beyond the naked eye.
I pressed the button on the side, prayerful the mess was contained. My heart sank into my Chanel trainers at the sight of blue.
Anywhere.
Everywhere.
I placed a hand on my chest as I took two steps backward. Anthony’s blood covered every surface in the home. Josiah hadn’t spared him.
Not once.
Not a little.
Not at all.
“Holy shit.”