“You should go home.”
“Youshould go home,” she snapped at her partner. She knew he was just trying to show he cared but he was driving her crazy with the constant inquisitions—he’d been at it all day, ever since they'd met in the elevator. “You're the one who was shot.”
“A scratch,” he corrected.
“Is that how Hannah saw it?”
“No. She freaked out. Just like Fin did.”
Chloe shook her head. “It’s over between Fin and me. I mean,reallyover. And I'm finally ready to accept it. I don’t have to take his anger. I know I hurt him by leaving, but I have finally accepted that I don’t have to keep punishing myself by letting him take his anger out on me.”
“Of course, you don’t,” Tom sounded indignant. “You didn't do anything wrong, Chloe. Sometimes when something really bad happens, and it feels like guilt is going to crush you, you need some space. Fin could have asked you to stay. He could have fought for you. He needs time to process the loss just like you did. Give him some time, and he might come around.”
“He’s had time.”
“It took three years for Hannah and I to find our way back to each other.”
“That was different,” she protested.
“How?”
Chloe just shrugged. She would love to believe that given enough time Fin would come around, but she couldn’t spend her whole life waiting to see if he would. What if he never did? “I don’t think Fin and I are going to get the same happy ending that you and Hannah did.”
“Okay. Well, whatever you decide to do, I just want to see you happy.” Tom reached across their desks and patted her hand.
“Thanks.” She smiled at him. Tom was a good guy, and she was glad that he had gotten the woman he loved back. “Is he waiting for us?”
“Yes, interview room three.”
“You ready?”
“Ready.” Tom’s brown eyes glowed with anger. He hated anything that hurt Hannah, and Harley Zabkar’s actions yesterday had hurt her. Tom would do whatever it took to make sure the man was charged and imprisoned for what he’d done, and if Harley was also the serial killer, then he would make sure he went down for that, too.
Just as she was getting up, her phone rang. No name popped up on the screen. She was going to leave it, assuming it was a marketing call or something, but snatched it up at the last minute. “Hello?”
“Chloe Luckman?” The female voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar.
“Yes.” Uncertainty settled in her belly, making her feel faintly nauseous.
“This is a call to inform you that Marcus King has been released on parole.”
The bottom dropped out of her world.
Marcus King.
Out.
He was supposed to be serving a life sentence.
How could he be getting out?
And why hadn’t she been notified that there was a parole hearing?
If she’d known, she would have been there and made sure that man never saw the light of day.
How could this be happening?
And on top of everything that had gone on the last few days.