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His sigh is heavy. “This is not the right move on his part. I’ve advised him to turn himself in. A warrant was issued for his arrest. He’ll be all over the news tonight and it won’t help his case in the long run.”
“What case? He shouldn’t have to go to trial. He’s not Oliver. That’s what you need to be focusing on.”
“You believe his claim to be true?” Lowell asks, and I do my best not to show how infuriating I find that question.
“Yes, he recounted things to me only Alden would know. You told him you’d get in touch with the dental clinic and arrange to have his records compared to a current exam. Do you intend to do that? Because if you don’t believe him, I’ll find another lawyer to take care of things.”
“I’m working on that, but I’d like to mitigate the amount of damage done to his case in the meantime in the event that doesn’t pan out. You realize how unlikely such a scenario is?”
“I do. But it happened.”
“Alright. With dental records, it shouldn’t be difficult to prove. Once I’ve obtained them, he’ll need to meet me at the dental office where he can get new x-rays and turn himself in at that point. Assuming he isn’t located beforehand. You’re aware the police will want to search your house and question you?”
“I expected so.”
“I advise you to let them search the house for him without an argument. To keep their suspicion away from you.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.”
Once I hang up, I’m not sure what to do with myself. It’s maddening, waiting on police to knock on the door. All I can think about is Alden, where he might be hiding, and if he’s safe.
I’m dying to talk to Tori, to tell her that Alden’s alive, and about everything that’s happened. It’s not something I’m going to drop on her while she’s on her last day of vacation. Their plane is due to arrive in the middle of the night tonight, so I’ll call her or go see her once she’s home tomorrow.
My growling stomach reminds me I haven’t eaten all day again. That has to stop. I can’t keep letting events and stress get in the way of taking care of myself now that it’s not only about me.
While I wait for my food to cook, I run my hand over my belly. Should I have told Alden about the baby? With everything going on, it didn’t feel like the right choice. Once he doesn’t have this threat hanging over his head, I’ll tell him.
After I eat, I’m too restless to sit still. It’s getting dark and no one has showed up. Cleaning up the house after our campout in the living room kills some time, but not enough. When the ten o’clock news comes on, Alden’s mugshot looks back at me while the peppy news anchor speaks. “Our lead story tonight, police are asking the public for help in locating this man, Oliver Stokes. He’s wanted for two counts of murder and one count of conspiracy to commit murder. Stokes is accused of hiring two men to rob a local convenience store and kill his brother in the process. A clerk also died in the robbery.”
I flip the TV off while she’s rattling off the number for viewers to call if they see him. It may have taken a few days for Breanna’s original post about us to go viral, but this news report catches fire immediately. There are too many people who recognize him from the pictures that went viral before and they are rolling in the chaos on social media within an hour.
The local newscast has more shares and comments than that station has probably ever received on any story. People all over the world can’t wait to weigh in with their remarks and opinions.
Holy fuck, this is the guy who offed his brother for his girlfriend!
Do you think she ran with him?
It didn’t say she was wanted, but she could still be with him.
Is there a reward? I’ll find their asses!
The knock I’ve been expecting comes just before midnight, making me nearly jump out of my skin. Three uniformed officers stare at me after I open the door. My first instinct despite my terror—or maybe because of it—is to laugh at the sight of one of them. It’s the expression on his face as he tries to look serious and hard. It’s difficult to do when he has chubby cheeks, pink from the cold, and looks round enough for me to roll him off my porch and into the snow with a push.
“We’re looking for Oliver Stokes,” he says.
“He’s not here.”No, he’s buried in a grave marked with his brother’s name.
“We have a warrant for his arrest. We’re going to need to come in to search. If you refuse—”
“Save the threats and go ahead,” I interrupt with a sigh, suddenly exhausted.
I’m not sure what you’re supposed to do when police are searching your place. I retreat to the living room and wait. At least they’re looking for a person and not documents so they won’t tear everything apart.
After about ten minutes, they return. Mr. Pink Cheeks, who seems to be the spokesperson of the group, asks, “When was the last time you saw Mr. Stokes?”
“About ten o’clock this morning when he left.”
He scribbles in his little notebook. “Was that the last time you had contact with him?”
