Page 37 of Go Under
She sighed.
He chuckled. “That bad, huh? Personal or case-related?”
“Personal.”
“Cox?”
“Who else?”
Gabe released a sigh of his own. “That fucking prick. It’ll be a good day when someone finally puts a tire iron through the back of his head.”
Kate blinked, startled. Gabe wasn’t one to use vulgarity, even when the moment called for it. “Are you okay, Gabe?”
“I’m tired of hearing how not okay you are. I’m tired of this plankton still breathing the same air.” He took a breath and calmed down. “I’m sorry. It’s not helpful for me to be angry.”
“I mean, it’s nice to know you care,” Kate said.
“I do,” Gabe replied, his voice forlorn. He sighed again. “Well, tell me how I can help, and then maybe I can claim to have done my part to bring him to justice.”
Kate bit her lip. “Cox… Accused my father of something. He claimed that my dad was a false witness. I know you didn’t know Dad, but what… I mean… could he mean that Dad lied about someone? He also said that Dad took something that wasn’t his, so maybe he plagiarized a paper or took credit for someone else’s idea—"
“Kate,” Gabe interrupted.
Kate steeled herself for the lecture. “Yes?”
“Cox is a liar, Kate. Even when he states facts, he lies. Whatever he’s trying to say about your father is a lie. Even if it’s the truth.”
Kate shook her head slowly. “I think I’m following, but I still want to know what it is.”
Gabe sighed. “I just don’t want you to keep allowing him to lead you by the nose.”
Kate’s lips thinned. She didn’t want to hear this from Gabe. She had enough people telling her to just ignore Cox and act like nothing he said mattered. It did matter. Her father was the strongest pillar in her life, and Cox was tearing it down. She needed to know if he was lying, because if he wasn’t, then did anything really matter? Could she trust anyone? She had to know, not just believe, know. Her father didn’t have to be perfect, but she needed to know his flaws, and she needed to know that in spite of those flaws, he was still a good person. She needed to see the rot Cox was alluding to and see for herself that it was nothing to worry about. And all anyone did was tell her to deal with not knowing or offer some vague assertion that Cox was a liar and therefore never told the truth. She’d solved enough Lawgiver cases to know how often and how completely he told the truth.
She was spared the need to argue with Gabe by a phone call from Marcus. “I have to take this. Thank you, Gabe.”
Gabe, with his usual placidity and gentleness, didn’t react to her abruptly ending the call she’d made to him.
“Of course. Remember what I said.”
“I’m sure you won’t let me forget.”
She ended the call with Gabe and answered Marcus. “Hey. What’s up?”
“Hey, Kate. We found Stuart Pelham.”
He sounded exhausted. Forlorn. A chill ran down Kate’s spine. “And?”
“He’s dead.”
The strength left Kate’s body. In the field office next to her, dozens of people were working hard to find and stop Nora Avery. Throughout the metro area and surrounding cities, hundreds of police officers were fighting to keep people safe.
And none of it mattered. Not one ounce of their effort made any bit of difference.
As Cox’s mocking laughter echoed in Kate’s ears, another vehicle ran through the puddle next to Kate. The water soaked her left side, but she didn’t react. What was the point? The car was already gone.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Stuart Pelham lived in Cherry Hill Township, New Jersey, an upper-middle-class suburb of Philadelphia. His home was by far the nicest they’d visited so far, a three-story Queen Anne painted a vibrant shade of blue with elegant white trim and a tower just to the left of center that rose an additional story in the air. The property was spacious, a half-acre of lawn that sported an enormous elm tree that dwarfed the house, extending nearly one hundred feet into the air and providing ample shade to the front porch.
