Page 213 of Broken
Seconds ticked by while she stared at the name, the harsh truth impossible to believe.
“She married that monster,” Prescott said.
Jaqueline logged in to Instagram. After toggling around, she pulled up her sister’s account. “She’s not an Instagram star.”
“How do you know?” He sipped the hot drink.
“She’s got five hundred followers. That’s not nearly enough to be an influencer. There were no modeling gigs. She was with your uncle.” Jacqueline slid her gaze from the screen to Prescott. “More lies.”
“Do you think your mom and dad know she got married?”
Jacqueline called her mom.
“Hi, honey,” her mom answered. “Any chance you’d like to play a round with us tomorrow? I know you’re working—”
“Sure, golf is great,” Jacqueline interrupted. “Mom, I’ve got a crazy question. Did Leslie get married?”
“No,” her mom replied. “Well, we haven’t talked to her in a few months, so she might have.”
“But not before that?”
“I think she would have said something, don’t you?”
“The old Leslie, yeah, but not the new one,” Jacqueline replied.
“Why are you asking?”
“I’ll explain tomorrow at golf.”
Jacqueline ended the call and said to Prescott, “My mom didn’t know.”
Prescott turned her laptop so she could see it. “They got married right before Maul went to prison.”
“After he escaped, she was harboring a fugitive.”
“She must’ve helped him once he got out.” Prescott pulled out his cell phone, made a call.
“Hello, Prescott,” Z answered. “Are you and Jacqueline taking the day off?”
“I need a warrant and I need it fast,” Prescott replied.
AN HOURAND A HALF LATER, Jacqueline and Prescott pulled up to Leslie’s house. After parking in the driveway, Prescott said, “Babe, you ready to do this?”
“Absolutely.”
They pulled on latex gloves and exited the SUV. With a plan in place, they made their way to the front door. Jacqueline rang the doorbell.
No answer, so she pounded on the front door. Still no response.
She texted Leslie. “I’m out front. Are you home?”
When no dots appeared and Leslie didn’t respond, Jacqueline tried the knob. Locked. They walked around the house in search of an unlocked or open window on the first floor. When Jacqueline tried the sliding glass door on the back porch, it opened.
They drew their weapons.
“Leslie are you here?” Jacqueline called out.
No response. They went inside. Prescott opened the door leading to the garage.
