Murderer.
Cold blooded murderer.
I almost trip over my feet, but I keep moving and I don’t look back. I do hear a door open, but I don’t let the terror gripping me stop me from moving. Not until I’m in my car. Even then, I tug the seatbelt across my body and click it into place as I start my car.
Honestly, thank fuck a car isn’t driving by because I barely look before pulling out from my spot on the street and driving away from the station. When I hazard a glance in the rearview mirror, I see a dark figure standing in the middle of the road.
I swear I can feel his eyes on me.
Geoffrey. Killer.
It was him. The voice. His voice. I know it.
I also know all about what has been reported about his career. He made a name for himself working Narcotics before going into Internal Affairs a few years ago. At the time I soaked up theinformation like I should have a spiral notebook of my own and a few sidekicks while going on a crime solving adventure.
Now, I’m afraid I’m going to throw up. My hands are shaking and I’m barely holding it together. When I see a large parking lot at a big store with a lot of people, I circle it and then find a spot between two big trucks.
I was such an idiot for going there.
It’s not easy swallowing down my fear as I remember how I offered up to the cop at the desk about how I have proof and witnessed the whole thing. And then her murderer walks in like he owns the place. Who even knows how this is being handled or who is truly investigating.
“Get your shit together, Ad,” I admonish myself, “this is not a crime drama.”
Yeah, sure.
After a few deep breaths, I do the only thing I can do in this situation. I call Tallulah. Because her man is an enforcer for a motorcycle club and, if I’m driving to New Orleans, I want to get on the road sooner rather than later. They’re going to chew my ass out for this.
“Oh, it’s Addy,” Tal coos when she answers which tells me that she has Joplin in her arms or is doing something with my adorable niece.
My adorable niece who I can’t expose to danger. My heart sinks and my stomach knots because I won’t be able to go to New Orleans. I couldn’t live with myself if Joplin were put in danger because of me.
“Tal,” I choke out her name, and I can feel the way she goes still even though I can’t see her, “I fucked up and did somethingreally stupid. I didn’t know it was going to be stupid when I came up with the plan. There was one variable I didn’t, and frankly,” I babble because I’m freaking the fuck out, “couldn’t have accounted for.”
“Addyson,” Tallulah barks and my mouth snaps closed, “I need you to slow down and tell me what is going on.”
“I haven’t heard anything for two days. Two days. Can you believe it? I read all the news reports I could and searched for videos as well. There isn’t nearly enough, but I also got more information than I had. Like her husband is a cop, but not at the precinct who is handling the case. I thought to check that out, you know? Because it would be relevant, I would think.”
“Addy,” Tal prods me gently and I take a breath.
“Right.” I clear my throat and then fill in the last of it, the part that is going to make her blow a gasket, “Since no one contacted me and I couldn’t take it anymore, I drove to Charleston and went to the police station with the thumb drive.” Tal sucks in a sharp breath, but I’m on a roll and don’t give her a chance to say anything. “While I was waiting for the detectives, a man came in and the moment I heard his voice, I knew it was the man who killed Kendra.”
“No,” Tal breathes out and I know she’s on the edge of her seat.
My best friend loves a good story. Normally, I’m right there with her, but this is a little bit beyond what I’m okay with.
Considering it’s my fucking life and all.
“It was the cop husband, the soon to be ex, Geoffrey Wagner. When he came in, the cop behind the desk knew him and started to tell him I was there as a witness, because I just blurtedout most of my life story from nervousness, but I was already walking out. I think he tried to follow me, but I drove away and I never looked back.”
“Shit,” Tallulah breathes the word, holding it out as she does.
I would have to agree. Big time.
“You’re in Charleston, right?”
I make a sound of agreement in the back of my throat. I’m really trying to hold it all together.
“Okay,” her voice takes on a note of something I’ve never heard there before. It’s as if giving birth to Joplin, even though she’s still a newborn, has given her a ‘mom voice’. It’s just what I need and I’ve never been prouder. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to send you the address of the clubhouse in Charleston. I told you about the party I went to there, remember?”
