Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
He caught my wrists in his grip and held them over my head, his tickling fingers hitting my ribs, behind my ear, my elbow—every spot he’d discovered over the last month. His mouth closed over my nipple, and my laughter became a gasp.
And I proved that Eli was right. When I wasn’t worried about our housemates hearing anything, I could be very loud.
I didn’t regret a single scream.
We didn’t end up getting the van I’d bookmarked. The seller had been a little dodgy about the condition of the transmission. Eli didn’t like the feel of him, so we’d walked. He’d slid his arms around my shoulders and given me a comforting hug.
“Don’t worry, Syl. We’ll find the right one.”
I wasn’t worried. I had a line on a camper van we could rent, and had tentatively made a reservation three weeks out that lined up with when I thought I’d be ready with the cold case I’d picked for season five of Evidence & Echoes.
A teacher—twenty-eight, beloved by students and coworkers—leading her class on an overnight camping trip. She’d been one of six chaperones, the only one to disappear. They’d found her body a week later, just fifty feet from the campsite. There were suspects, but no one had ever been charged.
I had my own ideas about what had happened, but I wouldn’t know if I was right until I got to Oklahoma and started asking questions. There were some dodgy suspects on my list, and I wasn’t sorry I’d have Eli at my side when I knocked on their doors. In fact, I’d been second guessing my choice when I’d thought I’d be handling the case on my own. But when I’d run it by Eli, he’d said, “Let’s give it a shot. I’ll go with you. If it gets too sketchy, we’ll bail and find something else.”
So, we were going to see if we could do anything to solve the case of the young teacher’s murder. I hoped—for her family and friends, students and coworkers—that we could do something to move the case forward. I was eager to get moving. The last episode of season four had hit a record number of plays for my small podcast, and fans were clamoring for season five. In the end, the bomber’s hijacking of my socials had only created more buzz, carrying me through the lull in seasons.
Before we hit Oklahoma, we’d make a stop in Little Rock to see my parents and finally introduce them to Eli in person. They’d met over a video call—my mom insisting she lay eyes on this boy who had my head so spun. My father had told her to back off. He’d already looked Eli up and was satisfied that his daughter had hooked herself to a decorated commando, as my dad put it. The fact that Eli had saved me from a bad guy and shielded me from the burning building that fell on us was all my father had needed to know. As far as he was concerned, Eli was in.
My mom, on the other hand, wanted a little more. But the first time she’d seen him on screen, her face had split into a wide smile. Later, in private, she’d gushed, “Sylvie, he’s so cute.”
I hadn’t been able to contain my laugh. Eli was a lot of things. Cute wasn’t one of them. Hot. Gorgeous. Dangerously handsome. Check, check, check. Cute was for teddy bears and bunny rabbits. But hey, if it won over my mom, I wasn’t going to argue.
“He is,” I’d agreed.
“And better than that, he’s good to you,” she’d said.
“I love him, Mom.” I’d expected her to brush me off. At that point, I’d only known Eli for a few weeks. I’d braced, waiting for her to say, Oh, you can’t know this soon, but instead she’d smiled.
“I’m not going to call you crazy, love bug. I fell in love with your dad on our first date. I came home and told my roommate, ‘I’m going to marry that man,’ and I did. Sometimes when you know, you know.”
Neither of us were talking about marriage, but I got her point. We didn’t need to. Not yet. We were living together, and since it was now exactly five weeks from the day we’d met, that seemed advanced enough—planning a future despite the disasters that had brought us together.
I’d never been happier. And neither had Eli. He told me often enough, and the day I’d officially moved in, Miranda had given me a hug and said, “You don’t know how good it is to see him this happy. Thank you.”
I’d said, “You’re welcome,” but I was the one who wanted to say thanks.
We still had a lot to figure out. Silas was out there somewhere. We still didn’t know what loose ends he was tying up, how he knew Emily Shaw, why she’d been murdered, why she and Silas had been on the bomber’s kill list at all, or what Ghost Trace was. But Eli and his team were determined. They’d figure it out.