21
English glanced at the bedroom door. He was wrapped up in Caitlyn all night. He didn’t bother with his phone. He didn’t care. All he cared about was Caitlyn. And two men died.
“No. That’s not possible. I was told they were improving. The doctor had hopes they would wake up in the next day or two.”
“And that’s why we’re on our way. No one wants to f**k up two cases in the same small town. Are you at Holly’s?”
“No,” English said, still trying to piece together the whole thing. John and Mickey were dead. He’d already somewhat removed Mickey as a suspect, but not Karen. But if it was Karen, why would she kill John, too? And if it wasn’t Karen—
“Liam!” Adam shouted.
“What?”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I’m staying with Caitlyn.”
“Who’s Caitlyn?” a woman asked.
“Who are you?” English
