Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“I promise I’m almost finished. What did you know about Clark as a person, his family and what not, and how did you feel about him?”
He shrugged. “Clark’s parents were rich. He had a sister who’s a nurse, I think. He bragged about that a bit, ya know, his family’s money, but admitted they refused to help him, even before the drugs came into the picture. From what I understand, his dad was a real ball buster, old fashioned ideas. Clark was kinda sensitive, and I don’t think his father liked that, either. He was one of the most emotional guys I’d ever met.” He sucked his teeth, then picked a piece of lint off his pants. “Would cry about sunrises, missin’ kids on posters, things like that.
“Anyway, his dad was a ‘pull your own self up by ya bootstraps’ kinda guy. I met him once. He came up to our college to visit Clark. He owned some company that makes tiles, I think. Maybe plaster supplies… it was so long ago, I’m not sure anymore. Clark was okay. He wasn’t a bad guy… not at all. He just couldn’t cut it, ya know?”
“Couldn’t cut it?”
“Life. Manhood. Responsibilities. It was too much for him. He wanted to be a teacher, but his father said there was no money in that. Told him to go into engineering like me, but Clark couldn’t handle the classes and schedule, and he hated it, too. I enjoyed it, did well, but I decided it wasn’t for me. Now I’m startin’ over. Anyway,” he sighed, “what happened to him wasn’t right… it wasn’t right at all. I didn’t like Evan, and everyone knew that, but I had no beef with Clark, Ms. Lee. We hadn’t talked in at least a couple of years anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “Why all of a sudden would I, after two years, decide to kill him? What’s the motive? That doesn’t make any sense. I told the police everything I’m tellin’ you.” He shrugged. “I’m tired of hearing about this. I’m tired of my name comin’ up in it. Instead of harassing me, you guys should be out there tryna find the real people who killed ’em.”
“So, you think it’s multiple people?”
“I don’t know… It could be.”
She looked Ethan over. He was solid. Seemed strong enough. He was somewhat handsome, with a youthful face and expressive large eyes. It was possible that he could physically pull off the murder of Evan, at the very least. His body language didn’t match his words, and something about his behavior felt off. He was purposefully trying to dumb himself down. Make it appear as if he were just drifting through life. She’d already checked into his background. No, Ethan was a planner down to his core.
Ethan’s scholastic scores were so high, he broke two testing records at the University of Maine, and he was in advanced placement. His reason for working at the restaurant was true—he needed the money to pursue an acting career—but the man was already slated to appear in two movies the following year, had received local awards, been an A student the majority of his life, and he was a highly respected actor in a local acting league. He’d even appeared in a few nationally aired commercials. He knew how to behave with her—how to sell himself. Actors were nothing but salesmen, trying to make strangers believe they were someone they weren’t. He was presenting to her a guy just trying to make it. Someone intellectually incapable of committing such crimes. Someone completely unmoved to do so, too.
“Ethan, I want to give you my card.” She reached inside her burgundy clutch purse and handed it to him. “If you think of anything, or hear anything about what we discussed this evening, please call me.”
“Okay.” He took her card, glanced at it briefly, then slid it in his pocket.
“Thank you for your time. I may be contacting you again, but for now, this’ll do.”
He nodded, and walked away, leaving her behind. She stood there for a bit, looking out at the water. The ocean gives life and takes it away. It was so sad that something so beautiful could aid in a murder by swallowing the life it birthed, and gulping it whole…
CHAPTER FIVE
Nikolai rolled over in his bed, the springs squeaking beneath his weight. He stretched his arms and groaned. Blinking his tired eyes, he peeked at the clock. It was 1:14 A.M. He rubbed his left eye with the palm of his hand and groggily sat up. He didn’t know why he’d woken up, but as of late, he’d been suffering a bit of insomnia.
After a minute or two, he gathered his thoughts and began sewing them together. It all went downhill yesterday when he’d gotten into a public physical fight.