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Except…
“I didn’t kill anyone!” I shrieked.
“Have to admit it was clever, using the same method on Sawyer as the Triclaw Killer. The task force probably won’t bother looking elsewhere for a suspect. In good news, the crime scene appeared clean. It was smart thinking to give yourself an alibi by texting me and inviting me over. If anyone asks, tell them we spent the night together.”
He truly thought I’d done it.
Un-fucking-believable.
“Out.” I shoved him in the direction of the door.
“Why are you mad? I’m on your side, Allie.”
He sounded sincere, yet I’d seen the shows that depicted the po-po and their deception. Could be he lied to draw me into admitting something. He’d pull out a hidden microphone, distort my words, and off I’d go to jail.
No way.
Because I was like ninety percent sure I had nothing to do with Sawyer’s death.
As for the last ten percent… I wanted to replay my security camera footage to be sure. First, though, I needed to be alone.
Of course, after days of me wanting him to stay, and him being unable, the one time I wanted him to make a swift departure, Brayden wouldn’t leave easily. “I looked into Mahoney’s sister.”
I paused long enough to ask, “And what did you find?”
“He had one called Gwendolyn.”
Which could easily be shortened to Ginny. “Did you talk to her?”
He shook his head. “Can’t. She’s dead. Died a year before Mahoney disappeared.”
“How?” I asked, seeing his expression.
“Three slashes to her stomach.”
“That’s terrible.” My hand hit my mouth to cover my gasp.
“A gang hit from the looks of it. Guessing since they couldn’t get at Mahoney, they sent a message through his sister.”
“You said it happened a year before he disappeared.”
“His sister died a few days before the first murder.” Brayden remarked, and a light bulb went off in my head.
“He went after his old gang for revenge.” Even managed to find a way to get the ones in prison. It made sense, even as my mind fought the truth. It wanted to cling to my romanticized version of Mahoney as the reformed bad guy. In truth, the real Mahoney was a murdering thug. Still, I wasn’t about to tell Brayden that. “Sounds like he did the cops a favor by taking out the trash.”
“He’s a killer.” Brayden spat.
“Was. Mahoney is dead, you said so yourself.”
“Is he?”
Because his serious mien freaked me out, I quipped, “Maybe it’s his ghost.” The ludicrous suggestion slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
Brayden froze and stared at me for a good long moment before saying, “You got something you want to tell me, Allie?”
Admit that I was interacting with a figment of my mind?
Nope.
