Page 92 of Breathe Me In

“Well, see, like I said, I didn’t kill Sophia.”

“That’s not how I remember the conversation.” I held his gaze.

“You did get a hard knock on the head in that crash. You may’ve thought you heard me say otherwise, but you can’t prove a thing.” His smug smile only increased my hatred for him. “Besides, you said Timothy gave an alibi for me, so what are you doing here besides making me skip lunch?”

“Hmm.” I nodded a few times. “What’s Timothy’s last name?”

Jeremy’s cheeks squeezed under his eyes. “God, it’s been years.”

“And yet you met up with him only weeks ago.” I let him stew on that for a sec. Then he scratched his nose as he bought himself time. “Let me refresh your memory. It’s Gumbo.”

“Yes.” He pointed at me. “Gumbo, Timothy Gumbo. It’s such an unusual last name that I always forget it.”

“I see.” I pulled out three photos and placed them in front of him. Timothy Ford, Rodger Gumbo, and my brother Ronnie stared up at him. “Which one of them is Timothy Gumbo?”

He slid his hands off the table and hid them from view. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he tried to pick the right person. I was surprised when he went with the youngest man in the lineup. “Middle photo.”

I pressed my lips together and knew in my gut he had no idea who any of the men were. I couldn’t help but look up to the window at Adam. I imagined he was smiling too.

“Are you sure?”

He leaned back and plucked the photo off the table to study it. “Yes, see that right there? That’s a tattoo.” He pointed to the middle man’s collarbone. A tiny swirl of a tattoo showed from where the shirt was pushed back slightly. “He got that his senior year.”

My heart gave a quick leap.

“What?” He caught my change in mood.

“You just gave me what I needed.” Now I was the one who wore the smug smile.

The veins in his neck flexed as he looked at the photos again. He was panicking. “You got nothing.”

I pointed at Ford’s photo. “Timothy Ford.” I moved my finger to the far-right photo. “That’s Rodger Gumbo, and this guy right here”—I tapped the middle photo—“is my older brother, who, by the way, got that shoulder tattoo while overseas protecting the very country you live, well lived, free in.”

“Okay, so I screwed up. He looked like a man I went to school with.”

“No, sorry, you just outed yourself.” I gathered the photos. “I know you have no idea who the two suspects are that we’ve connected to the nightclub murders, but I do know that you killed Sophia and why you did it at the club. You hoped we’d think it was the original killer.”

“You got nothing,” he repeated.

“No?” I stood and pulled out two more photos from the file. Thanks to Bree and Adam’s magic with the iCloud account, I showed him the extra footage from the night she was killed. “This was taken the night you killed her. You knew how to open that clasp to take the GoPro off. That’s not an easy thing to open.” I set another photo down. “This is a still shot from that footage, which revealed this mark on the wrist.” I ran my finger along the jagged cut before showing him the next photo. “This is you at a gas station the night after.” I smiled at him. “You see that right there? See how your sleeve pulled up your arm as you handed the clerk the cash? That jagged zigzag scar.” I grabbed his arm and flipped over his wrist to reveal the same scar as in the two photos. “You cut yourself on a keg a week before you killed Sophia.” I slapped down the hospital report of his stitches. “Maybe next time you decide to kill, think of any identifying marks that could out you.”

“This isn’t fair!” He slammed his hands down. “She played me!”

I leaned down. “No.” I chuckled darkly. “She wasn’t the one that played you.” I stabbed a finger at Ford’s photo. “He did.” His face twisted in confusion as he studied the next couple of photos I put in front of him. They were of the text messages that Ford had sent Jeremy. “He saw your obsession with Sophia. He got your number and started to feed you photos of her flirting.” I pulled out his phone records and pointed to the highlighted number that had texted him numerous times. “He saw you were weak and decided to see if he could make you snap. He totally played you into killing Sophia.”

“She was such a bitch!” He looked stricken as his world crashed around him. “I want to make a deal.” His tone was low and defeated.

“Deal?” I laughed. “There’s nothing more that I want from you. There’ll be no deal. I hope it was worth it to you, because from now on you’ll be living behind bars.” I reached for the door but stopped myself. “I’ll be sure to spread the word that you’re single. Now who’s the bitch?”

His jaw sagged open, and I hoped Sophia enjoyed that one. As I exited the room and the door slammed behind me, I saw Adam’s face light up with joy. My phone vibrated in my pocket.

Cap: Sorry to do this at such a busy time, but I need you in Florida ASAP. I’ll email you the details.

I closed my eyes and tried to remember this was all part of the job. I sent back a quick text.

Stone: I’ll watch for the details.

“That was impressive.” Adam beamed after I tucked my phone away. “Now what?”