Chapter 140
Herod’s phone rang at 3:17 AM. The cheap motel room was dark except for the blue light of his burner phone cutting through the blackness. He squinted at the screen. Unknown number. His finger hovered over the decline button, but something made him answer.
“Hello?”
“They found everything.” The voice on the other end was hushed, stressed, Derek Martinez, his contact at the FBI. “Your business card in the wreckage. Your fingerprints on the detonator parts. Plans for the bombings in your apartment.” Herod sat up, suddenly wide awake. “What plans? I never kept anything in the apartment.”
“Well, someone did. Blueprints of the substations. Notebooks with blast calculations. A journal talking about your hatred for Victoria Kane.”
“That’s impossible. I never wrote any journal.” Herod’s mouth went dry. “What else?”
“Your emails. Detailing everything. The FBI has enough to lock you away forever.” Martinez paused. “I’m risking everything telling you this. My career, my freedom.”
“I appreciate it.” Herod’s mind raced. “Any mention of Rose Lewis in the evidence?”
“Nothing. Not a trace.” Martinez’s voice dropped even lower. “Look, I can’t help you anymore. They’re searching for you everywhere. Airports, train stations, the works. I need to disappear from your life now.”
The line went dead before Herod could respond.
He sat motionless in the darkness, the truth settling over him like a heavy blanket. Rose had set him up. Completely. Thoroughly. She’d planted evidence while he was out. Created a fake journal. Fabricated emails.
And made sure none of it pointed to her.
Herod got up and flicked on the light. The motel room was small and dirty, nothing like the luxury he was used to. Rose had insisted they move here two days ago, claiming they needed to stay hidden.
Now he understood why.
She’d wanted him in this dump, away from his resources, while she set her trap. And he’d walked right into it, blind and willing.
The bathroom door opened. Steam escaped as Rose emerged, wrapped in a thin towel, her hair wet from the shower. She smiled when she saw him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“You’re up early,” she said, toweling her hair. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“I just got a call from Martinez.” Herod watched her face, looking for any reaction. “The FBI found evidence in my apartment. Evidence I never put there.”
Rose’s expression didn’t change. “What kind of evidence?”
“Plans for the bombings. A journal. Emails detailing everything.”
“Someone must have broken in,” she said, turning away to look for her clothes. “Planted that stuff to frame you.”
“The funny thing is,” Herod said, his voice deadly quiet, “Martinez said your name doesn’t appear anywhere in the evidence. Not once.”
Rose stilled for just a moment before continuing to sort through her clothes. “Lucky for me, I guess.”
“No, not luck.” Herod stood up. “Planning. Careful, detailed planning.”
Rose turned to face him, her mask finally slipping. The coldness in her eyes matched the chill spreading through Herod’s body.
“What exactly are you suggesting?” she asked.
“You set me up.” The words hung in the air between them. “You arranged for evidence that points only to me. You made sure you had alibis for both bombings. You’ve been planning to make me the fall guy from the beginning.”
Rose didn’t deny it. Instead, she tilted her head, studying him like a scientist might observe a lab specimen. “And if I did? What would you do about it?”
Successfully unlocked!
The question caught him off guard. He had expected denial, ou
maybe even tears. Not this calm admission.
“I could go to the FBI,” he said. “Tell them everything. About your involvement, your planning.”
“With what proof?” Rose laughed, a harsh sound that scraped his nerves raw. “Your word against the mountain of evidence showing you acted alone? A desperate attempt to shift blame from a guilty man?”
1/4
Chapter 140
She was right, and they both knew it. He had nothing to prove her involvement, while she had carefully built a case that would bury him.
“Why?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought we were in this together. I thought…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. It sounded pathetic even in his head.
“You thought I loved you?” Rose dropped her towel and began dressing, unconcerned with her nakedness. “Poor Herod. Always wanting what he can’t have.”
Her casual cruelty cut deeper than he expected. Despite everything, some foolish part of him had believed their connection was real. The nights they’d spent planning, talking, making love, had it all been strategy on her part?
“I gave you everything,” he said. “Money. Resources. I helped you go after Camille. Why turn on me?”
Rose pulled on her shirt and faced him. “Because someone needs to take the blame, and it was never going to be me. I’ve spent my life being careful, covering my tracks. Did you really think I’d risk everything now?”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)