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“The hell, Blake!” I shoot him a kerosene-charged scowl.
“Clay, calm down,” Rob warns.
“How the fuck did you not know all that about Isabelle?”
The PI ignores my aggression. Not a strand of guilt is showing on his inscrutable face. God, I hate him right now!
“There’s Isabella Martin. And there’s Isabelli Martins. Isabelli Luna Martins,” he explains.
“Are you saying you were researching the wrong person all this time?”
“No. They’re the same person—same biometrics. But different criminal records.”
My shoulders slump even lower.
“I swear, I’ve never seen these records before,” Blake reassures. “It’s like they just came out of the blue.”
“So, which one is she?”
“Isabelli Luna Martins. Her parents originally came from Portugal before they settled in Brazil. Martins is a common Portuguese name, instead of Martin.”
“So what has this Isabelli Martins done?”
Blake stops as if telling me I need another glass of scotch. “She killed her boyfriend.”
My head might as well explode.
“Blake?” Even Rob stares at him in disbelief. “How could you have missed that?”
“I don’t know, Rob. But I did.”
“So her boyfriend didn’t die in a car accident?” I ask, somehow hoping Blake had just gotten the facts mixed up and that he would change his statement.
“No.”
“How did she kill him?”
Blake’s shoulders slump slightly, then he reveals, “Stabbed him, nine times.”
“Fuck…” I murmur. My energy has been sapped, I can’t even swear properly.
So my girlfriend was a cold-blooded killer. This is some history I’m making!
She said she had a lot of secrets—never in my wildest dream I thought this would be one of them. Now it makes sense that she left. She couldn’t live with her guilt.
Rob leans back, his head shaking repeatedly. He seems as hopeless as I am.
I put the pieces together in my head. Then I say it out loud, “So, Fletcher created Isabella Martin, the innocent woman whose boyfriend died in a car accident. And with that, he hid Isabelli Martins’ hideous records. Then Fletcher blackmailed her to get to me. Now that she decided to come clean, he released those records.”
“That’d be the likely scenario,” Blake affirms.
“What else?”
Blake turns his head to escape two pairs of eyes staring at him.
“What else?” I repeat.
“She terminated her pregnancy not long after she killed him. Clearly, she didn’t want anything more to do with her boyfriend. Even his child.”
