“Get the fuck out of here and don’t you ever come back.”
“Why don’t you take a quick walk with us?” The shorter one says, stepping between me and Mrs. Johnson. I glance at Nathan as he mouths an “I’m sorry.” I glance at his cousin, who flicks his head in the direction of the street. He has no idea what the fuck is going on or who I am, but he’s telling me it’s time for me to go.
I turn and walk back across the street, the detectives following close behind.
“Nice ride,” tall asshole says as I open my driver’s side door. I look at them, wondering if they’re going to climb in with me. Across the street, I see Nathan get Mrs. Johnson back up those short stairs and into the house. Security-guard cousin is still standing in the yard. He might be late for his shift, but he looks like he’s sticking around to make sure I don’t start anymore shit. Or to be a witness if I get beat to death by the cops, whichever comes first.
“What’s your name?” Mustache asks again.
I bottle up the urge to flick my business card in his face as a distraction while I choke the other cop out. “Vaughn Coleman.”
“Vaughn Coleman! Just the man we were looking for.”
“Why?”
“Well, Miss Johnson’s little brother there—”
“What about him?” I don’t want trouble with the law, but I don’t want them bothering Nathan either.
“He was very helpful. And he told us that his sister had two boyfriends. One named Vaughn Coleman.”
“That’s me. How can I help you?”
“Well, this all felt open and shut, but we were looking into Miss Johnson and Mr. Delinsky a little more and it appears that our shooter, Ryan Morgan, had been sending Miss Johnson emails for some time. Emails about her relationships with various men.”
I can feel the confusion hit my face as I scramble my brain trying to search for that name. “I don’t know a Ryan Morgan. How did he know Corrine? She never mentioned him or any emails to me.”
“Not sure, but it looks like he’d been stalking her for quite some time. Keeping tabs are her movements on and offline. We just thought we’d check with you, see if you knew anything about. What about this other boyfriend?”
“Pretty sure he doesn’t know a Ryan Morgan either and he definitely would have mentioned a stalker if Corrine had said something. I didn’t know her killer’s name until you just told me. I didn’t know the name of the guy she was with until today either. I didn’t even know she was cheating before this all went down.”
“You’re saying this is how you found out?”
I nod, swallowing the pain and the anger that’s rising in my chest again. “I thought she was with her friends for the weekend. Her friend Autumn’s fortieth-birthday getaway.”
“Tough pill to swallow.”
“Is there anything else? ’Cause I should go.”
“That’s a good idea. Doesn’t look like Mrs. Johnson wants you anywhere near here. Care to tell us why that is?”
I swallow and push my glasses back up my nose. “In a perfect world, every family would get along with every significant other.”
“The Johnsons seem like great people. Mrs. Johnson is a saint. Any reason why they wouldn’t like you?”
“You’ll have to ask her.” I know the woman is upset, but I also know she doesn’t really think I would want any harm to come to her daughter. And neither would Shaw.
“You live close by?”
“Back Bay.”
“Oh, okay. Well, stick around town. We might want to talk to you again. Stalking adds a different element to a murder. So does hiring a hitman. Especially a young one.” More confusion clouds my face. How the fuck old was Ryan Morgan?
“How young and what are you talking about a hitman?”
“Eighteen,” The short one chimes in.
“Ryan Morgan was eighteen? An eighteen-year-old did this?”
