Finnegan
Mother had gone too fucking far. Barely two hours ago, I was on a call with Arnold. His voice crackled through the phone as he told me Owen was missing at the cabin and there was blood everywhere.
That just told me shit had hit the fan in the not-so-pretty way. My mother and my brother must have gotten to him first.
They knew we were closing in, and they had eliminated the only living witness who could tie them to the murder of Abigail's parents. I hadn't expected them to hack off Owen's head and deliver it to my girlfriend like some first-century barbarians.
After giving Arnold orders to tip the police, I ended the call and immediately dialed Benjamin's number.
"Mr. Wolfe,"
"We have a problem. Owen Smith is missing and is likely taken or worse, dead. Is there any other way to keep the case from being archived without a living witness?"
