Page 47 of Destined Chaos

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Page 47 of Destined Chaos

“Then help him because you care about me,” I begged.

23

Hugh

My foot tapped against the linoleum floor as I waited for Clark to bring Dinky into the interrogation room. I needed answers only he could give me before I did anything. I wasn’t even sure Dinky was worth the effort, no matter how much Libby begged—loving someone because they were family wasn’t always good for a person’s health.

Clark opened the door and shoved Dinky through. His lip was still busted and had crusted over, and the color around his eye was changing from black to green with increased swelling.

Dinky stopped in his tracks. Clark gave him a little shove farther into the room and into a chair. He didn’t have a choice to back out of this conversation. I wouldn’t let him.

“Take me back to my cell,” Dinky demanded.

“You’ve got five minutes,” Clark said and backed out of the room.

“Why did you do it?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

“I owe a lot of money to Mr. Johnson. He wanted the property and said he’d forgive all of my debt.”

“You almost killed her.”

“It was an accident. I never meant to pull the trigger. It was always just the house. I wanted the damn house to burn. I thought if I burned it, then the evil inside would have nowhere to haunt and you wouldn’t want the place and she wouldn’t have to wait the thirty days. She’d sell it, and I’d be off the hook.”

“You almost killed her.” My voice deepened as if he didn’t realize what he’d done.

“I don’t even know why he gave me the gun. I was desperate. Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

Dinky slammed his hands down on the table. “He’s not going to stop, not until he has that property. Something about how his dad left his mom and went to work at Slaughter House as a gardener. I overheard him telling someone on the phone. He’s not going to stop until he owns that deed, and trust me that he isn’t above killing her so that the property gets passed down to me. You have to protect her. I can’t do anything while I’m here. Please protect her.”

I sat back and tilted my head. “They’re related?”

“What? No.” Dinky gawked.

“The book said the gardener was the toddler’s father and possibly Libby’s too. If the gardener was Johnson’s father, that means he and Libby are half-siblings.”

Dinky shook his head as if the pieces were beginning to fit. A look of horror crossed his face. “He’ll kill her if he realizes the truth. He wants to destroy it all. Slaughter House and every bit of his dad’s legacy. You’ve got to stop him.”

“The fire did most of that.”

“But it didn’t take her. He’ll want to finish the job.”

I shoved out of my chair and yanked open the door. Clark was in the observation room and met me as I walked out.

“It’s true. The gardener is her dad. It was in the diary and the DNA confirmed it. I just haven’t had an opportunity to tell her. Come on. I’ll drive.”

“Who killed her dad?” I asked, jogging behind Clark toward the door.

“The book says her grandfather did. Libby’s mother walked in a minute too late to save Maria, and the gardener turned his anger on her. Her grandfather admitted to killing the man in the diary. He claimed it was in self-defense trying to save Libby’s mother’s life. He goes on to say that he told the girls to run and never look back.”

“And they did.”

Within minutes, Clark had his lights and siren going as he sped toward the hospital.

“Let’s hope your girl’s luck is still holding up.”

“Luck?” I asked. “How does any of this make her lucky?”

“You were there to stop the stalker boyfriend. You both got out of the burning house unscathed, and she got through surgery. I’d say the girl has nine lives.”