Monday
“Detective Olivia Pearson for Tim Hale.” She shouldn’t be doing this.
“Right through there, Detective.” The prison guard motioned to a glass-enclosed room. Her hands were shaking on the door handle as she stared at the back of his head. The nightmares were playing through her head with her eyes wide open in fear.
She shouldn’t be here.
She was about to make a run for it when he turned and looked right at her. His once handsome face, now aged with hard prison life, paled as recognition dawned.
Olivia opened the door and sat in front of him for the first time in eight years. Long steady inhale, slow controlled exhale. Long steady inhale, slow controlled exhale.
“Lucy?”
“Hi, dad.” The term once an endearment, now a curse.
Her infamous father dubbed the Jackal Hunter–named
