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Peter Croft sat on the hard bench of a holding cell with his head in his hands. How had everything gone so wrong? He had been just about to claim the prize he had waited so long for when that crazy girl with the ponytail had taken it all away. His fingers brushed the mottled cuts and bruises on his face before clenching into fists. She wasn’t his type, but he wanted her to pay. Maybe if he could get a hold of the man he had hired to take Stephanie... He would be more than a match for that b***h, but he had also been very clear that Peter should never contact him again. Still, maybe if the pay was right, he might reconsider. Everyone had their price. Peter understood that concept better than most.
His lawyer had advised him to make a deal and tell the police everything he knew about th
