Page 5 of Boneyard HEA

Hiring her to walk Lucy so I could check her out, up close, that was fair play. She doesn’t even remember me.

I nod at the screen. “You’ve been very bad, Miss Juniper. How could I not do more?” I rest my hand on my dick where it’s ridged against my fly.

It was almost a foregone conclusion to trial the tracker on her car.

That I taught her math at high school for several months, ten years ago, that’s in the past.

OnlyFans, Fet, and now she’s murdered a man?

I click on the mouse and shut down the images.

I’ll have her here soon. Pictures cannot beat having the real thing at my feet.

3

Juniper

There really should be a plan you can look up for what to do after you kill somebody.

Running away seems genuinely the right path if you want to wave a banner saying, I did it.

Not running away is scary as fuck though.

You wait for the door to burst open, full of cops brandishing guns. For hours, my heart rate seems to have been set on high.

It’s dark now, and having cleaned the ute as thoroughly as I could using the vacuum and the downstairs hose, I’ve left it parked in the underground garage beneath the apartment block. I’ve tossed the vacuum bag in a distant bin. I’ve eaten, I’ve thought and thought, and now I’m stuck with wondering how to find his friends.

If my stupid life is worth anything, it is going to be for this. Finish it.

I smile. If only I could just do some face-smashing, fancy flying kick on them both.

They’re rich like Nathan is…was, I assume. Weren’t they in some of the press photos from the trial?

Facial recognition might help, if I can even do that. Not being a government spy, I’m lost here.

Try. I have to try. Unless I want to go ask a psychic for help, or swim down to the phone where I let it sink. Under the sea, in fathoms of water. Fish it out, then magically suck the info from his phone?

I use Google and search: can anyone use facial recognition to match photos?

Yes.

I can? Where I’m sitting on the sofa, I suddenly feel like I’m floating, dizzy.

“Wow. Great. Now I just need some photos to do this with.”

Which is when I realize that doing even this, within hours of his time of death, could be incriminating, if anyone checks what I’ve been doing.

I let my head drop back and swear as I stare at the ceiling. It is what it is.

I keep going until I find the trial photos, and those two men lurk in the background of a few, but their names are missing from the captions. Of course they are, Baxter and Ethan were nobodies there.

I get hits from my first search. Lots of hits.

Ethan Morrow.

Baxter Anders.

Rich and British, they have been photographed at celebrity events at Cannes, at the Oscars, and more. They seem to be investors in several companies.