Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 136507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
“I still don’t even know what we’re doing out here!” Jon exclaims. “It’d be nice to know, seeing as it’s my land and all.”
“Just let them do their thing,” Holt murmurs, watching his son dig.
Logan jams the soil and a metal thump sounds. His eyes widen as they meet mine and then he and Jack pick up the pace, uncovering the stainless steel canister.
My heart pounds in my chest.
“Em? How do you want to do this?” Logan asks as they stare down at the buried artifact.
“Properly. This is evidence.”
“Of what?” Wariness flitters across Jon’s face.
I look at Logan and then at Terry, whose interest is finally piqued. “Remember that jewelry heist I was looking into?”
Chapter 50
Logan
“So … anything new and exciting with you?” Glen stares at me from across his desk, the Toronto Star newspaper sitting in front of him punctuating his question.
I school my expression. “Not much. The new bull seems to be getting along fine with—”
“Oh, fuck off with that!” He waves away my deflection with a meaty hand, and then slides his glasses on to read out loud, “‘Twenty-Year-Old Armed Robbery Heist Solved by OPP Detachment Commander and Accomplice’s Brother.’”
“Can’t believe they didn’t include convict in the title,” I say dryly.
“Don’t worry, they fit it in the article.” Glen slips his glasses back off. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a parolee make the news so many times and not for committing another crime. First, you save that lady from drowning, then you’re a witness in helping to tie that bar owner to Holly Monroe’s death, and now this.” He jabs the newspaper. “Gotta say, I’m impressed.”
So was everyone when Emery called this in. We pinpointed the burial spot based on Jay’s rudimentary map and confirmed it with the metal detector, but beyond that, she wanted everything properly preserved and documented.
Inside the canister were the stolen jewelry lot, four handguns, and a license plate, all untouched by time and elements, sealed just as Jay and Ian had left them.
Forensics stepped in and discovered that the most valuable thing inside—more valuable than the eighty-thousand-dollar diamond ring—were the fingerprints they managed to lift, tying two living suspects to the crime.
Travis Dorsey flipped on Hank within ten minutes, earning himself a lighter sentence in exchange for his full testimony. According to him, Hank and Travis went to dispose of the van in the scrapyard, expecting to meet up with Jay and Ian later to divide the loot. But when they found each other again, that plan had changed.
Ian told them that the stash and guns were somewhere safe, where no one would ever find them, until things cooled down and they had a plan for offloading the jewels without getting caught. Hank and Travis were livid, but there was little they could do.
“You know, some people would have been tempted to keep all that jewelry,” Glen says. “If you think about it, the store’s already gotten their insurance money, and there’s no way anyone would have ever put all this together. Sure, some of those diamonds would be too risky to sell off, but you could have melted down the metal or pawned off a ring here, a necklace there. Kept you in spending money for years. Have you seen the price of gold lately?”
“Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”
Glen’s eyes widen. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Honestly? I couldn’t get it away from me and my family fast enough. That shit has already cost me extra years in prison. I almost died because of it.” I gesture at my ribs, where the shank punctured me. “And Hank Murphy going away for armed robbery feels damn good.”
Emery claimed that watching him get hauled away in handcuffs for this crime in particular was the most satisfying day of her career.
“You know what? Good for you. You’re a better man than I.” Glen nods slowly. “So? What next? Not that it’ll be anywhere near as exciting as this.”
“Let’s see …” I fold my arms as I lean back, remembering how uncomfortable I was sitting in this chair that first visit. “The mechanic who works on my family’s farm equipment is willing to let me apprentice with him so I can get more hands-on experience with engines. Eventually, I can take care of them all.” Wyatt’s equipment too, likely.
“That’s a good opportunity.” He scribbles a note down. “What else?”
“The Bale House is up for sale and my cousins put in an offer. I think they’ll get it, but I don’t know what that’ll look like. Those two owning a business together?” I shake my head. They’re already fighting over what the new name should be. “They’ve offered me a job behind the bar if I want to make extra money.”
“Is that something you’re interested in?” Glen’s eyebrows arch. “Talking to people?”
He knows me too well. “I’m getting better at it. But it really doesn’t matter. A 10 p.m. curfew gets in the way.”