Font Size:  

“If that’s true, then why are your fingerprints on Peter Davenport’s door handle?” Chapman asked, leaning back and linking his fingers together behind his head. “You just admitted that you’d only been there one time, and during that time you didn’t open the door, you only knocked.”

I studied the object. For a moment I was confused. I hadn’t touched fucking Davenport’s door handle, hadn’t tried to open it or fucking anything.

But then I remembered…

Morris nodded. “Which means you must have been there another day… or night.”

“There’s one thing wrong with your theory, boys,” I stated with a laugh.

Chapman’s face dropped quickly, and he leaned forward like he was ready to bite my fucking head off. “And what might that be?”

“That ain’t Peter Davenport’s door handle.” Even as I said the words, the reality of what was really going on kicked in and my gut leaped up into my throat. “It’s Eric Deanwell’s.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like