Ethan

“What do you mean, this isn’t enough?” l growl, glaring at the investigator. I’ve just handed him everything we found in Eve’s safe, from her murder schemes to her personal legends detailing all the money she stole from the Atelier over the years. To my shock and absolute fury, the detective simply blinked and told me it was all circumstantial.

“Sir, no one saw her writing this, we don’t know that it actually belongs to her.” He insists stubbornly.

“Are you serious?” l demand. What I really want to ask is ‘do you even have a brain? or ‘how the hell did you get this job when you clearly aren’t intelligent enough to have made it through grade school.’

However I have a long history of playing the diplomat in the face of challenging people, so I restrain myself – though not without difficulty.”It’s practically a full confession, it was locked in a safe in her room and it’s in her handwriting. The perspective of events she describes makes it obvious she’s the author.”

Shaking his head, he frowns. “That’s all speculation.”

“You haven’t even had time to fully examine it.”I hiss, “Just go through it, you’ll see that I’m right.”

“I can’t accept that.” The detective refuses, seriously testing my patience. “It’s not admissible evidence. It wasn’t found in an official police search or with a warrant, and you admitted you broke into her safe to access it. No court in the world would accept it.”

I’m a concerned citizen, who found evidence in my own home and I’m bringing it to you with all the details of its discovery. That’s perfectly admissible!” I grumble, wondering if perhaps I should have left it in the safe and called them to the house. However the man’s next words make it abundantly clear he’s less worried about the chain of evidence, than he is with passing off the blame.

“And how do I know you didn’t doctor all this stuff?

” He asks impudently, “You could have made it all up.!”

“Are you accusing me of fraud?” | question harshly,

“the victim was my mother, I want to find her killer more than anyone.”

the least bit sincere. “I simply mean that you’d

right now.” l grit out,

that really isn’t

on this case has been staggering – so staggering that it’s beginning to defy belief. It makes me wonder why you’re so determined to imprison the wrong woman, and why you keep defending Eve when the writing is clearly on

agreed with the direction of an investigation, or the first entitled nobleman who thinks they can pull a few strings and make things go their way. The

to the force commander. Not just

look into Eric, telling him I needed everything he could find me on the

spend the whole day just trying to figure out how l’m going to keep this under wraps until the investigator gets back to me. Jane sent me a text last night after she confronted Eric, telling me she needed a girl’s night and was going to go stay with Linda. She promised to fill me in on what happened when she gets home tonight, and

get Jane’s hopes up when I knew there was a chance things wouldn’t be resolved easily. I’ve been suspicious about this crooked

that l want to tell her myself – I want to see the look on her face when she hears the news, and I don’t want her to know that the kids were involved

convince the kids we should let this be a fun surprise for her, but keeping the secret for one night when she wasn’t even there is a very different matter than

in the end the problem solves itself, because around five thirty I get a

you mean?” I ask,

“Already?”

overconfident in his own abilities that he thinks he’s completely above suspicion and doesn’t need to cover his tracks.” The man, a bear shifter called Jackson, shares. “Are you

answer eagerly, “What

our friend the detective is a bit of a ladies man.” Jackson announces, “and he has truly terrible taste. “Would you like to take a guess as

feeling a profound sense of disbelief.

been sleeping together since before Jane came back into town. He has a cache of photos and videos I desperately

there are the messages”‘ He continues, “it looks like she’s been stringing him along for months, promising to let

my breath, l ask, “I suppose you

the book, you hire me for finding the impossible.” He reminds me, “but if you’re worried about bringing this to the police commander, don’t worry. While I was hacked into his system l sent a few emails from his account. One to the commander, a few to

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