Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“What? You must have the wrong—”
“Maybe we can clear this up. We have some questions, if you’ll accompany us to the station.”
His head was reeling, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he was going to faint. What is happening?
Behind him, he heard the soft gasps and murmurs from the classroom, where he could now see the door had drifted slightly open. He wanted to bolt. He wanted to sink into the floor. “O-okay.”
“Come with us.” The officer who’d spoken nodded at Mr. Garvey and Mrs. Sachs, whose lips were set in a thin, worried line. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
He walked with the officers on wooden legs, down the hall and toward the parking lot, trying desperately to get his brain to work. “Should I . . . should I request a lawyer?” he asked as they exited the building.
“Only if you have something to hide,” the redheaded officer said as he opened the back door of the cruiser parked at the front of the building.
“No, I don’t have anything to hide. This is a mistake.”
“Then let’s clear it up.” Rex slid into the back seat. He felt manipulated. These officers just wanted to get him to the station. They wanted him to answer questions without an attorney. But his mom couldn’t afford an attorney anyway. They were barely making ends meet.
As the cruiser pulled away from the school, he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Think straight. Cami would tell them it wasn’t him. She’d been there. She’d known Rex for years. They’d spoken just a few hours before she was attacked. She knew the truth.
Rex had no idea what this was about, but the reminder that Cami would vouch for him made his breath come a little bit easier.
The room at the precinct was overly bright and too cold. His mom, who had arrived a few minutes before by his request, smelled like vodka and looked like she’d just pulled herself out of bed because she had.
An older man in a pair of suit pants and a button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, came in. “Rex Lowe? I’m Detective Smith. Thank you for being here. It goes a long way that you’re answering questions willingly.” He sat down at the table across from them and reached his hand out to Rex and then shook his mother’s hand too. “Mrs. Lowe.”
“What do you have on my boy? Cough it up or let us leave.”
He gave her an impatient smile. “We’ll get you out of here just as soon as possible, I promise.” He looked at Rex. “Your given name is Alexander John, is that correct? Rex is a nickname?”
“Yeah. Yes. But everyone calls me Rex, even my mom.” It’d been his nickname since he was a toddler, when a cousin of his who couldn’t pronounce Alex or Alexander had called him Rex, and it’d stuck. Even in his own mind, he referred to himself by the nickname and—
AJ.
Was he being questioned because he had the same initials as the man who’d escaped? He felt a breath of relief wash through him. Was that all it was?
“Where were you four nights ago, on Friday?” he asked.
“Home.”
The detective glanced up at him from the form he’d begun to fill out. “Alone?”
“Yeah. My mom was out.”
“What time did you get home, Mrs. Lowe?”
“Midnight. Thereabouts.”
“Was your son up when you got home?”
“Sure. Yeah. He was.”
“Really? You can swear on that? Because we have witnesses that say you were quite inebriated at Jimmy Jo’s Beer Shack that night. Someone described it as ‘blackout drunk’ and said you didn’t leave until after two and were carried out by a loan shark by the name of Gary Shipley, who we haven’t yet managed to contact.”
His mom let out a disparaging sound as Rex’s heart sank. Why had she lied? “He told me he was a financier,” she murmured. “But all that blackout stuff’s a lie. Rex was wide awake when I got home.”
“You’d swear to that?”
“Course I would.” She took his hand under the table and squeezed it.
The detective checked something on his form. “Witnesses said they saw you out running the morning of the manhunt, and then other witnesses reported you at the hospital later, attempting to speak to Camille Cortlandt. There’s news footage of you in the lobby.”
Rex swallowed and shook his head. “That’s all . . . I mean, that’s just a coincidence.”
“You a regular jogger, son?”
“No. It was the first day. I mean, I’d just decided to take it up. Jogging. That was my first day.” God, he sounded like a liar, even to himself.
“Uh-huh. And why did this jog of yours end at the same hospital where Ms. Cortlandt was being treated?”
Again, he swallowed. His mouth was so damn dry. It felt like he was gulping dust. “I just . . . I saw the police cars, and I was . . . worried.”