36. Olivia #3
Mack licks his lips, digging through more papers.
“So anyway, this was Dr. Chambers’ entire transcript from his trial that never went anywhere.
He settled for whatever out of court.” He pushes the stack into the middle of the table.
“My bet?” Mack throws an excited look between the two of us.
“I don’t think this asshole ever ceased operations.
I mean, I looked into him, and he completely disappeared off the face of the planet.
” Mack shrugs. “Like he didn’t go anywhere new.
Didn’t start over. Just disappeared. The only proof he was here is his fucking kid running that bar. ”
“Dr. Chambers?” Wilder asks, rubbing his brow. “That doctor who got caught up in the medical malpractice shit? I remember they arrested him and then…” He trails off. “Well, nothing. That was like what? Five years ago?”
“Exactly,” Mack says in agreement for the first time in his entire fucking life. “That’s the asshole who owned the medical group before it turned into that fucking bar. Our guy was found behind what’s the name of it?” He looks at me.
“X Marks the Spot,” I say softly, cringing when Wilder shifts in his seat.
“That’s the last fucking place Meredith was seen with your asshole friend, by the way.” He glares at Mack again.
“Don’t fucking blame me for her coming to the better people for fucking help, dude. I’m fucking sorry she died. She was… She was nice. Didn’t seem like she was caught up in this fucking bullshit.”
“She was nice.” Wilder doesn’t seem to argue. “She seriously only came to you guys for help? Nothing else? Money? Why the fuck…” He trails off, grasping for answers I don’t think he’ll get.
Mack snorts, shaking his head. “She was worried, bro. Worried that something was happening because of the guy you work for, or hell, maybe it’s my asshole boss.
” He tosses his hands in the air. “Either way, some fuck head in this town is doing some bullshit, and my guess is it started with this fucking doctor and our project.” He shrugs, slumping in his seat with a groan.
“Fuck,” he whines, looking at his smartwatch with a frown.
“I’ve got class.” He gathers the papers he brought and puts them in his folder.
“Same place and time next week? I’ll let you know if I can get out of all my other bullshit to finish this shit ASAP. ” He raises a brow at each of us.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I agree.
“Good. See you assholes later.” And without a backward glance, Mack limps out of the study room and disappears into the stacks of books as quickly as he came.
“What a fucking delight,” Wilder jokes, shaking his head again.
“We could do more, if you have time?” I say, gesturing to the papers from our file.
“Maybe we can figure something else out.” Like going to talk to that stupid bartender and seeing what else he might know.
Not that I’m my former self. The girl he seemed to like and wanted to take her into his basement apartment.
Shit. Maybe I was his next victim?
“Yeah,” Wilder says, unlike himself. “Let’s study some more. I don’t have another class today.”
For the next hour or so, Wilder and I go through the papers, trying to make heads or tails of what happened to Ezra.
“There’s nothing really here,” Wilder complains, slumping back in his seat. “No wonder it’s a damn cold case. They stopped working on it.”
My brows furrow. “Yeah, seems that way,” I mumble bitterly. “Means someone important made it disappear. Just like Dr. Chambers.”
“I agree,” Wilder says, twisting the cigarette behind his ear several times. “Let’s get out of here and get some lunch or something.” He says it so casually as he picks up the papers and shoves them back into the folder.
“Uh, sure,” I agree hesitantly as my stomach growls.
Shit. I didn’t eat.
Wilder eyes me quietly as we clean up the papers and put them into the folder.
“So, uh. We’re having that sparring open gym tonight, if you’d want to stop by?
” There’s a hopefulness in his voice as he stands tall by the table, messing with his tie that hangs loosely around his neck.
“Usually it’s on Thursdays, but we decided to open it tonight.
Or, well, any time. We can go after lunch.
” A slight redness coats his cheeks when he looks away from me and clears his throat.
“I have to stop by my house before we go and change out of this death trap.” He gestures to the suit clinging to his body.
I lick my lips and think it over. It would be fucking nice to get some sparring in.
Even if it’s with punching bags and other equipment.
I could sort out every ounce of my frustrations and be better by tomorrow.
Plus, if he’s inviting me over to his house beforehand, I can keep an eye out for my damn glasses that Malic swears he hasn’t seen.
Liar. Veritas must have noticed by now that no footage has been uploaded for a few days.
I’d rather get them back before Jonathan hands me my ass.
“Sure. That’d be fun.” I smile at him.