“Because Hannah’s not a liar, is she? You told us, she’s a good person, and she loves you,” I press.
He hesitates. “Y . . . yes.”
“You’re lying about something, Connor. But for the life of me, I can’t work out what it is. Because I don’t think you committed the crimes you’re accused of. But I can’t help you unless you give me some information.”
He sweeps the back of his hand over his forehead before he does the same to his upper lip. He’s terrified.
“I don’t have anything to say, only that I didn’t do this.”
Protect Hannah. Please.
It’s my turn to shift now.
Did someone threaten Hannah?
Yes.
Who?
Old soldier.
Fuck. That has to be the colonel? He’s had a stick up his ass about this case since day one. And not a stick like Alfie the grump has a stick up his ass. This is different. He’s had a giant hard-on for Connor from the first day. He didn’t have any doubt that he was guilty. Why would that be?
Name?I sign.
He shakes his head. Only signing the letter C.
C for colonel.
I run my finger over my mustache, and Connor nods. The fucking bushy-browed prick was going to get seriously questioned by me. Especially since he’s threatened my home by keeping this man in jail.
“We’ll look into what you’ve said and see if it helps the case. Is there anything else?”
He shakes his head.
Father. Old soldier, boss soldier.
Connor’s broken sign language was messing with my head. Before I can ask another question, the buzzing sounds out, and the metal door clangs open, and Connor is taken away.
Katie turns to me, but I shake my head, jotting down the notes quickly before we’re escorted from the room.
“Not now,” I mouth, and she nods in understanding.
We make our way along the metal walkway and back into the waiting room. Once we’re back through security, we’re handed our things.
“Hey, real quick, check your purse for me.”
“Jonesy,” she pleads.
“Do it, princess, or I’ll do it for you.”
She sighs, looking through her bag, and wouldn’t you know, there’s another letter in there. You gotta be fucking kidding me. She opens it up with shaking hands, her eyes darting from left to right before she hands the scrap of paper to me.
I can’t wait to smell your perfume again. Only a few more days, beautiful.
Yours always, my perfect specimen.
“Motherfucker! SMITH, get out here! Right now.”
