Ash was holding a punching bag and making me beat on it as he corrected my form, over and over, when his phone rang. I sighed with relief when he frowned. "Time to meet Maxwell. Game on."
Chapter Twenty Eight
Setting Up A Killer
MAXWELL MET US at our house—I still had to remind myself it was our house and not just his house—and we settled in the living room with coffee.
"Good news and bad news on the investigation into Bridgette's disappearance," Maxwell said.
"Good news first," I said.
"It's actually the same news. The good and the bad is that the police are now investigating Jon as a suspect in her case." Maxwell sipped his coffee and waited for one of us to speak.
Ash clenched his teeth. "How is this good news?"
"It means they're finally considering suspects other than your girlfriend," he said. "And we need that, otherwise, they'll put everything they have into pointing the evidence at her and that won't bode well for any of us."
Ash stood and paced. "So it's better my brother is set up for this? He didn't do it."
I kept my mouth shut, not sure what to say.
"If he's innocent, then he'll be fine," Maxwell said. "The evidence isn't stacked up against him like it is against Catelyn here. Now, that's my news, what did you two have to tell me?"
"I found the book," I said.
Maxwell's eyes widened and he put his coffee cup on the table in front of him. "The second book Alice was working on?"
I nodded.
"Where? How? What did it say?" He could barely stay sitting in his excitement—or was it agitation? I couldn't tell.
"It's safe. I can set up a meeting with the killer. I'm going to make a public statement, let the world know I have it and know who killed my mother, and wait for that person to contact me."
Maxwell shook his head. "Absolutely not. It's too risky, and there are too many legal ramifications to consider. Why not go straight to the police?"
"Because I don't trust them." My voice wavered and Ash squeezed my hand. "I want the information out. I have details about high-profile people who were, and are, corrupt, people my mother knew and had gathered evidence on. This needs to be made public before they can make this information disappear again."
"I don't like it," Maxwell said.
"You don't have to." I sipped my coffee and ignored my shaking hand. "It's my decision and I've made it."
He stood, reaching for his briefcase. "Fine, I'll set up a press conference. I just hope you know what you're doing." He walked to the door and let himself out.
After he left, I leaned against the wall and exhaled. "So do I."
Ash trapped me with his body, his breath hot against my mouth. "We don't have to do this, you know. There are other ways."
"None that make as much sense as this. If he's the killer, he'll act before the information goes public."
"And what if he's not the killer?" Ash asked. "What will you say if you're forced to go ahead with the conference?"
I took a deep breath. "I'll say I found the book."
He squinted his eyes at me.
"Because I have, Ash. I know where it is."
"What?" Ash stood back and stared at me. "When? How? Where is it, Catelyn? You have to tell me."
"I can't, Ash. Bridgette's life might depend on no one else knowing."
Chapter Twenty Nine
Indecent Proposal
THE NEXT FEW days passed by uneventfully. My medication began working, my headaches and blackouts virtually disappeared, and Ash continued to train me with guns and self-defense. I was actually getting to the point where I felt more confident in my ability to handle myself when I passed Mr. Davenport while getting a bottle of water at the gym.
"Catelyn, how are you? I didn't know you worked out here." He carried a tennis racket and had a white towel around his neck and sweat dripping down his face.
"Yes, just recently. Ash has been giving me some self-defense lessons. Are you just finishing up a game of racquetball?"
He looked down at his racket. "Yes. I try to get down here a few times a week. Good for the heart. How are things going with the investigation into Bridgette's kidnapping?"
The woman behind the counter handed me the water and I took a sip. "It's been hard. I miss her and we're doing everything we can to figure out what happened. I just feel so helpless."
"I heard you've been looking for the book your mom was working on when she died. Did you ever find it?" He asked this with a carefully manufactured casualness that belied his intensity.
Ash saved me from answering by putting an arm around me. "Dad, what are you doing here?"