39. Knox
KNOX
Something’s off. I see it the second Nash walks into my interrogation. As soon as I got the text from Anna that she had to go to the police station, I all but ran here, and unsurprisingly, PCPD’s finest wanted to talk to me as well.
I anticipate the same hostility I got the last time I was here, but Nash’s entire demeanor is different, more subdued.
I give him a redacted version of last night’s events, and he doesn’t push back on any of it.
As far as Moretti’s security footage shows, I was in Vortex’s back rooms for a private poker game when Sebastian left the club with Ella, and it continues to show me staying behind those closed doors until just after Anna called me.
And the footage from the security booth leading into Ella’s gated neighborhood will show her in all her theatrics screaming and crying to the attendant about being ambushed.
We knew there was a chance Sebastian had a backup plan, and we prepared for it. To let me know it was going down, Anna would call me only long enough for the phone to ring once before hanging up. Then she would call back again.
And that’s precisely what she did. I tried calling her repeatedly after, but she wouldn’t pick up. And that’s when I bolted out of Vortex, jumping into the vehicle that Dominic, Jax, and I drove over in, which wasn’t my Fiero.
Nico assured me his men would never take their eyes off my girl, and they hadn’t. Sebastian’s goons only made it two streets over until they were picked off at an empty intersection. From there, it was just about establishing the timeline.
We had Sebastian’s phone in our possession, but we also couldn’t make it look too obvious who was responsible for the kidnapping, using a burner phone to send me texts with instructions on how to get Anna back.
Nash is scrolling through them now, still not saying anything until he gets to the last one that ordered me to drive down to Seveere Park by the river. “And what happened once you got there?”
“I plead the fifth.”
Again, I expect this to be the moment when he pushes back, but he simply nods, not bothering to open his notebook or jot anything down on the paper in front of him.
“You wouldn’t by any chance know what happened to Mr. Chadwick last night, would you?” The look he gives me is pointed but not hostile.
Nash may not know everything, but he knows who exacted revenge on that motherfucker.
Still, I shrug. “I have no goddamn clue.”
And it looks like Sebastian isn’t the only one having a bad morning. I have a feeling Stepmother Dearest will be cutting her visit to the country club short, seeing the footage Michael and I leaked earlier already picking up steam on social media by the time I’m released.