Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Either simply knowing me, or hearing the sincerity in my tone - or both - she gave me a short nod. "I know that," she agreed, letting out a breath that made her body tremble with its intensity.
"What's going on in there?" I asked when she just continued to sit there, looking off to her side, but not seeming to see anything at all.
"I don't even know," she admitted, and I knew it was another sucker punch to her pride to even say such a thing, for a woman so sure of herself to feel so utterly lost. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking there's nothing here to go on. He likely took his electronics. He's meticulous in his research, so I think he would be smart enough to take anything pointing to his plans. I think we need more to go on."
"He had a job," she suggested.
"But did he really?" I asked. "He fabricated a whole life..."
"No, he had a job," she insisted. "In a building. I've been there. I surprised him with lunch or dinner when I could get away for an hour."
That made sense, really.
This was a long con.
Don Juan jobs often were.
It took a while to gain a woman's trust.
Longer to get access to her finances.
If he didn't have enough of a savings from a previous job, he would need to support himself through the research and implementation process.
"What'd he do?"
To that, she let out a humorless snort.
"Accounting," she supplied, reaching up to rake a frustrated hand through her hair.
"Road trip?" I asked, trying to keep my tone lighter, trying to keep her from going too deep in a hole while there was still so much work to do.
"Kai..." she said, shaking her head.
"What?" I asked, brows drawing together, not entirely sure what that tone of voice was, pretty certain I had never heard it before from her.
Her head shook again. "I can't ask..."
"You're not asking. I'm offering," I cut her off, tone a bit final, not wanting her to think there was any doubt or hesitation for me.
"Kai, it's my concern, not yours."
"It concerns you, Jules, so it concerns me too."
I didn't care that maybe that was saying too much, showing my hand, proving that all these months I had just been playing a part, that my feelings were now as they always had been.
I watched, waiting to see the recognition, but all she gave me was a slow exhale, closing her eyes like she was attempting to find some patience or strength - or combination of the two.
"What happens if we find nothing at his office either?"
"Jules, if there is one thing I have learned from working with Quin - and everyone else - it is that there is always something. No one is good enough to erase everything."
"Except Finn," Jules interjected.
"Except Finn," I agreed. "But I very much doubt that Gary is anywhere near as good as Finn. There will be something somewhere to go on."
"And then what?"
"Then we track the lead."
"It could take a while."
"Yeah, it could," I agreed.
"You need to work. I'm, ha, I'm on my honeymoon for three weeks. No one will notice me gone. But you... you need to be there."
"I need to be on this case," I countered, shrugging. "I will feed Miller a story. She will buy it."
Of course she would.
Because she never would have figured me for a liar.
I felt a stab of guilt at having to do it, but if someday it all came out, Miller would understand.
"And what if Quin needs you?"
"Jules, honey, let me worry about me, okay?"
"I'm going to worry too since I am what is getting in the way of your work."
"Listen, what is going on with you is more important than Quin maybe getting pissed with me, okay? So stop. This is my priority right now. You're my priority right now. So, let's stop talking about it, and get working on it. Yeah?" I asked, getting to my feet, reaching down to offer her my hand.
She looked up at it for a long moment, her brows drawn together over her light eyes.
Just when I was sure she was going to refuse it, was going to get to her feet herself, her hand slid into mine, tentatively at first, then curling in as mine did, allowing me to carefully pull her up.
"Yeah," she agreed, giving me a nod even as her shoulders squared, her chin lifted, her spine went to steel.
And that was the Jules I knew.
But, I realized, that was not - as I had thought - the whole picture, the whole woman.
Maybe some would feel like a dream was shattering to realize that the woman they had loved was only a part of who she really was.
But all I could feel as we left the apartment was excitement. Even pleasure. That there was more to know. That there were parts of her that I would get to know that others would not.