Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
The next day, I woke up feeling hungover. I was dehydrated and sleep-deprived. My head pounded to the rhythm of my heartbeat until it felt like contractors were hammering around me all day.
Work was excruciating. We had a moms’ group for lunch who’d brought a motley collection of babies and toddlers and stayed for two hours. Usually, I loved having this group on a weekday, especially now that tourist season was behind us. But today, it was torture.
By the time I went upstairs to shower and change before heading to Kincaid’s house, I was low-key nauseous.
Tavo looked up from his spot playing video games in the living room. “You look like shit.”
“Mm, you’re the best kind of friend. Don’t ever change.”
“For real, man. You want me to call Ella? She gives you hell, but you know she’ll come baby you if you’re sick.”
I shook my head carefully. “No. I’m going to hop in the shower, then I’m headed out.”
As I turned, Tavo started to say something and stopped.
“What?” I asked, turning back to him.
“Remember that guy at the farmer’s market who said he remembered me and the judge from back in San Francisco?”
I tried to think of what he was referring to, but I had no idea. “The guy in the ball cap?” I asked in surprise. “Wait, he said he knew Judge Miller?”
He hesitated. “Not really. He knew who he was, but it wasn’t like he knew him-knew him. He was a server at Pinch, a club Kirk and I used to go to. I told him it wasn’t me, and then Chief Kincaid made a joke about doppelgängers. That’s when you walked up.”
“Oh, right. And the chief told the story of mistaking me for my cousin because we look alike.” That part I remembered.
He nodded. “Yeah, exactly. And the ball cap guy was super nice after that, moved on quickly and ended up buying a steel and flint from me. I just… I keep wondering if I should have been more worried about it than I was.”
I considered this for a moment. “I wonder how he knew who the judge was? I own a restaurant in a tiny town, and I still don’t know all my customers.”
“Yeah. I think that’s why it’s bothering me.” Tavo scooted sideways on the sofa so he could see me better. “The judge is a regular at Pinch. And this guy said the judge had been flashing money around to keep an eye on me. That’s why it stood out for him. But you don’t think…? I mean, it’s not like this guy is going to go back to the judge and tell him he saw someone who looked like me, right?”
The chances of the judge asking some random server at a club if he’d seen a guy he was supposed to remember from a year earlier were unheard of. “I think you’re okay,” I said. “Besides, the judge has to drop this eventually. Maybe we should have asked the server if Judge Miller had been back with any other guys.”
Tavo’s eyebrows winged up. “Oh shit. Good call. That would have been sweet. Except then he would know I was the guy instead of someone who just looked like the guy.”
He was right. Better to claim not to know anything about anything. “I’ll tell Joel to have one of his investigators stop by and question people at the club. What club was it?”
“Pinch on Valencia.”
I nodded and reassured him before heading back to my room to get ready. After showering, dressing, and shooting off an email to my uncle about Tavo’s case, I headed to Kincaid’s.
And tried not to vomit from nerves.
26
KINCAID
DrunkenPoet: I have to stop looking for you. It’s been four months and I’m losing myself.
DrunkenPoet: I’ll never forget you, Index. You changed my life.
DrunkenPoet: I hope wherever you are, you’re happy.
_____________________
When I heard the crunch of tires on my driveway, I steeled myself.
After a long, sleepless night, this was finally it. I needed to confess the truth. Talk to Alex about our shared past. The forum messages. My accident.
My palms were damp, and my stomach was in knots. The last thing I wanted to do was cause him more pain.
I opened the door before he could knock. “Hey, Firebug.”
He looked as awful as I felt. His eyes were red and scratchy-looking, his hair stood in all directions like he’d been yanking at it, his skin was pale and dull, and there was absolutely no life in his expression. Only exhaustion and resignation.
I stepped forward to pull him into my arms, but his words froze me in place.
“How long have you known?” He didn’t even come in. Simply stood on my front porch and looked up at me. “I need to know how long you’ve known that I was DrunkenPoet.”
Hearing that name in Alex’s own voice was somehow still shocking. But whatever he saw on my face must have given away the fact that it wasn’t entirely a shock. His nostrils flared, and his eyes hardened.