Page 90 of Breathe Me In

“Fascinating?” I repeated.

“We’re so proud of you both.” He pointed at my hand on Brad’s arm. “You must be pleased, Stone?”

“Meaning?” Brad finally said something.

Ford leaned forward and squinted at Brad. “To have everything back to the way it should be.”

Brad shook his head. “Listen, asshole, I’m not into mind games. It’s time you put those hands behind your back. We’re done here.”

I gave his arm a squeeze to back off. I wasn’t into mind games either, but he was talking, and that meant we might get something to hang him on.

“But you have green stains on your hands, so if you aren’t the killer, and you obviously know who is, you’re involved somehow.” I looked around the greenhouse as it came to me. “You have the knowledge.”

“Good girl.” He beamed.

“Your hands are green, your name was on the nursery list, you knew where to be and at what time to see it happen,” I said, and my brain spun with all the possibilities. “Which means you made the drug.”

“Smart and pretty.” He gave that weird, proud smile again. “I knew this was going to be fun. I knew I had to be a part of this.”

My head started to piece the puzzle together, but there was a hole. “Did you send those letters to the girls?”

His smile widened. “I wanted a part in the game too.” Game?

“That explains why the post dates were off,” I muttered to Brad. If he wasn’t the actual killer but wanted to play the game, as he put it, he could have been sending them after the girls were killed.

“Well done.” Ford nodded, and I glared at him. He really did think this was some sort of twisted game.

“But why send one to Sophia? She was strangled. She wasn’t poisoned.” I could tell he wanted to gloat, and I hated to feed that, but we needed answers.

“I wanted to see if I could derail you, so I sent the letters. I thought the one I sent Sophia would really mess with you.” He laughed. “I knew it was only a matter of time before young Jeremy would snap. He was obsessed with that girl, but she wanted nothing from him. So, in order to have a little fun, I got hold of his number and sent a few anonymous texts. I included some photos of her flirting with other men. As I expected, he snapped, and voilà.” He waved his hand like he held a wand. Brad’s sudden intense expression caught my attention. I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t risk Ford closing up.

“So, you’re saying Jeremy killed Sophia, and you had nothing to do with it?”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that killed her. I just gave a little nudge, if you will.” He looked pleased with himself. “It was all so easy.”

“So her death had no connection to the murder of the other two women at the nightclub? That was just you playing Jeremy and screwing with us.” I was incredulous. “And that was fun for you?”

He touched his injured lip and looked down. “Yes, well, it was until it wasn’t.” He looked up at me. “I crossed a line and paid for it.”

“Paid?” Damn him and his twisted answers.

Ford leaned back in his chair and rested a hand on his lap while he tapped the table with his other fingers. “It’s so frustrating, isn’t it? Being so close to the answer that’s been staring you in the face all along?” His voice was conversational, as if we had all day. “You know, now that I say it out loud, I suppose the two of you must be quite familiar with that feeling. Am I right?”

I felt a cold sensation wash over me. I knew he referred to the Barbed Wire Killer, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I remained deadpan.

“You haven’t even scratched the surface of this entire thing. So many foxes.” He smiled, then he suddenly turned to look to the right as if someone was there. I looked where he looked and then—

It happened fast. Ford pulled a gun and put it to his own forehead. Brad yelled “Gun!” and shoved me to the floor.

“Don’t do it, Ford!” Brad yelled as he pointed his weapon at the man. My heart pounded; this could go sideways in a hundred different ways.

Bang! Bang! I felt something heavy fall on top of me, and my ears rang. The acrid smell of sulfur filled my nostrils. Fear filled me as I scrambled out from under Brad’s body. He must have thrown himself on top of me. Oh my god! Had he been hit? What had happened?

“Brad, Brad! Are you okay?” I desperately needed to know he was all right.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Brad lifted me off the floor in one quick moment and checked me over. His hands were everywhere. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Jesus, that was scary.” My words sounded far away. God, how I hated guns. I put my hands to either side of my cheeks and slapped myself in hopes it would help clear the panic I’d felt that Brad had been shot. I saw Ford’s bloody head.