Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 173(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
I squeeze harder, cutting off his air. I want to snap his neck. I should. Then again, there are too many witnesses. This will have to wait. For now.
With a shove, I let him go.
He whirls immediately, his hand going to his gun. “I could shoot you down right now for that.”
The urge to snap his neck returns, and my hands itch to do it. But I decide to destroy him in another way. “Sounds like something you’d do. Would you rather I turn around so you can shoot me in the back the way you prefer?”
All the angry color drains from his face. “Wh-what did you say?”
“You heard me.” I step to him until we’re toe to toe. “You’re not the only who can do research. While you were looking into me, I did a little review of my own.”
“Mr. Harbin’s false imprisonment case isn’t the only one I’ll be bringing. You’ve violated the civil rights of at least a dozen wrongfully convicted citizens, and done much, much worse to at least two others.” Calista glares up at him. “Watch your step, officer.” She whirls on her heel. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Marigold goes to her father.
I step in front of her. “Don’t do it, Goldie. He’ll only hurt you.”
“I know, but he took my ring.” She shows me her bare finger.
“Stealing property?” Calista calls loudly. “What sort of police station is this? It’s more like a mafia den.”
Marigold holds out her palm. “Give it to me. Now.” Her tone brooks no argument.
I turn, keeping close at her elbow as she gives her father a hard stare.
He looks at me, then at her, his color rising again. He knows he’s beaten, and I’ve found that cornered animals are always the most dangerous.
His eyes narrow, and he reaches for his cuffs. “Marigold Cranston, you’re under arrest for the murder of Charles Hoover.”
22
MARIGOLD
My mouth falls open. I knew that me shouting I killed Hoover was going to come back to bite me in the ass. This is why you always plead the fifth. What happened to it being ruled an accident? Or my father saying that my tiny little hands couldn’t have snapped Hoover’s neck? They might be tiny, but I can still do other things with them.
I’ve still got my father’s keys I’d lifted off him. I’d slipped them into my bra for safe keeping. I thought I was going to have to bust my husband out of here. I figured if I didn’t have to, then I could maybe keep them as a small trophy for all the trouble my father was putting us through. Now, I’m thinking I might have to bust myself out.
My father tries to slap metal cuffs onto the wrist of my outstretched hand. Avery knocks them to the floor.
“Don’t touch my wife.” He’s about to explode.
It seems Avery has a lot of pull and power, but killing my father in the middle of a police station is not something I think even he can get away with. I’m a bit surprised at how well he’s holding back. I’ve seen the man in action when it comes to me. Hoover never stood a chance.
“And where is that arrest warrant?” Calista, the fancy lady with her blond hair pinned up and a suit that molds to her curves, fires back at my father. She steps forward, getting in front of Avery, probably thinking the same thing I am. If Avery kills him now, there is nothing anyone can do. My father is hoping he slips up.
Avery’s lawyer–and now she’s mine, too–only has only a few inches on me, but that’s not saying much. She talks as though she’s the one with the biggest set of balls in the room. I’m sure my father hates the fact that a woman is speaking to him with authority. I love it.
“You told me his death was an accident,” I huff, dropping my arm back to my side. I’m not sure my father is going to hand over my ring. He will do anything to get what he wants. I don’t understand his need to have control over me. It’s why I’d left his home the second I turned eighteen and never looked back. His control has never been out of love.
“Other things have come to light. She admitted to killing him.” Now my father’s anger is focused on the blonde in front of him.
“The coroner ruled it an accident, and you have no arrest warrant, do you, Detective Sullivan?”
His anger doesn't faze her. In fact, she takes a step closer to my father, as if daring him to do something.
“She admitted it.” If my father is nothing else, he’s persistent. This is his last-ditch effort to maintain some sort of control over me and get everyone to do what he wants.
“In high stress situations–such as a SWAT team flooding your home without cause and pointing guns at you–people say all kinds of things. You’re only proving the emotional toll you have taken on my client.”