Chapter 891 Jason wanted nothing more than to work Anastasia's case, but now, his hands were tied-orders were orders.
He'd been on the verge of quitting, yet this case made him change his mind. After grabbing slate-night takeout with Mr. Taylor, they said their goodbyes outside the neon-lit diner. Mr. Taylor slid into a black SUV, pulled out his phone as soon as the door shut, and spoke in a low voice, "It's handled-Jason will report to Einsberg tomorrow morning..." Jason lingered at the curb, finishing off his cigarette before flicking it aside. By the the got home, it was already the middle of the night.
He unlocked the door quietly and found Monica asleep on the couch-again. She always tried to wait up for him, but most nights, sleep won out.
He tiptoed over, intending to scoop her up and take her to bed, but as soon as he bent down, Monica stirred.
The first thing she asked was, "Did you catch the bastard who set up Anastasia?" What happened to Anastasia had Monica furious-if she could, she'd hunt down the culprit herself.
Jason sat next to her. "No. And starting tomorrow, I'm off the case. Herman pulled it." "He can't just do that! Ana's the victim-how can he just walk away?" Monica's voice trembled with anger. "He said he'd protect her. Look at her now. If he'd done his job, she wouldn't have stormed out of that dinner, she wouldn't have been kidnapped, none of this would've happened." "Monica, breathe." Jason tried to calm her down. "No one wanted this. I went to Southridge Estates earlier-Ana's awake, but she's not herself. She isn't seeing anyone." Monica's eyes brimmed with tears. Thinking about what Ana had been through was almost too much.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Jason... those photos online... Do you think Ana..." Monica's voice trailed off; she couldn't bring herself to finish the question.
The pictures-God, those awful pictures-told a grim story. Four men. Ana, beautiful and broken. Those images were everywhere now.
They'd been leaked straight from the kidnappers' phones and splashed all over social media.
Suddenly, Jason's face changed. "Wait-the timing on those photos. They were posted after Ana was found, and by then, those guys were already dead. So who uploaded them?" Monica blinked, confused. "Didn't you say they scheduled the posts?" "Yeah, but why bother scheduling? Why not just post them right away?" Jason's mind was racing. "Maybe they were holding onto them for leverage, waiting on a last payment. Only, they never got it." Someone else was calling the shots-Jason was sure of it.
The photos had been set to auto-post an hour after Ana was found. That left enough tfor the real mastermind to finish business-and silence any loose ends.
Those four never saw it coming.
It was just a theory, but Jason felt it in his gut.
He could get obsessive when he was piecing things together. Monica was used to it by now.
"But the damage is done," Monica whispered. "Those photos... Ana's never going to be the same. I don't know how she'll ever cback from this." Sometimes, life knocks you down so hard, only you can pull yourself out.
"Try to get srest," Jason said gently. He didn't want Monica digging any deeper-she was too impulsive, and he was afraid she'd get herself in trouble.
But Monica couldn't sleep. Not when Ana was hurting.
Southridge Estates was silent.
Anastasia sat alone in her room, wrapped in darkness. She hadn't bothered with the lights.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmShe stared blankly out the window, watched the trees move in the wind. The memories swirled and crashed through her head-loud, jumbled, relentless.
She could still hear the clicks of the camera shutter. And a voice-someone urging her to run, not to look back.
She couldn't tell what was real and what was just her mind playing tricks. How could Rowan's voice have been in that cave?
She didn't know about the rumors outside. She didn't know the om e kidnappers were dead.
Then she heard footsteps in the hallway. Herman.
"Honey, I'm coming in." Anastasia froze, every muscle tense. She knew she couldn't avoid Herman forever.
She clutched the blanket tighter, voice raw and pleading."... Don't turn op the light."