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Oh Christ.
“He’s nuts, alright, and hewasplanning on planting that device in your offices. But he’s just looking for his fifteen minutes. He’s a copycat, plain and simple. They’re fairly certain he isn’t even the one who planted all of those bombs a few weeks ago.”
My jaw clenches, a sharp stab of fear lancing into me.
“But what about the bomb he was found with? It’sidenticalto those other ones.”
He grunts.
“Yeah, there’s the rub. The cops don’t think he built it at all.”
My blood runs cold.
“Excuse me?”
“They were asking him technical questions about wiring and explosives, and the guy was just making it up as he went. Finally, they pressed him on it, and he told them it was ‘a gift.’”
Everything stills. Slowly, I turn, my eyes stabbing through the open doorway of my office to where Oliver is sitting on the couch.
Sipping my whiskey.
Chatting me up.
Making amends.
Lying to my fucking face.
My pulse stills. My eyes narrow as my jaw grinds. And suddenly, the jumbled pieces click and fit together, showing the whole horrible picture.
The monster behind the monster.
The puppet master, pulling the strings.
All signs pointed to Oliver, until Karzony conveniently fell into my lap.
Except the decoy has just been unmasked.
“Liam,” I say, my voice thin and icy. “I have to go.”
“Noel,” he growls, hearing the coldness in my tone. “What’s going—”
“Oliver Prince is sitting in my office right now.”
He swears viciously.
“I’m on my fucking way as fast as I can.”
“I can’t promise he’ll breathing by the time you arrive.”
