To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 151

Wayne sat in his office, dressed in a suit so immaculate it could have come straight from the tailor's hands. Calm and unflinching, he faced the police officers across from him.

"Then I must have remembered wrong," he said smoothly. "Had dinner with Mr. Vincent last night, probably drank a little too much. My mind was pretty foggy."

Summer didn't buy a word of it.

"The footage is clear as day—you carried her into the car. Don't blame it on a couple of drinks. Hand her over!"

Wayne's brows knit together. "I have a dashcam in my car. It doesn't record video inside, but it does pick up audio. Why not let the officers listen and see what really happened?"

Charles studied Wayne's expression, suspicion gnawing at him, but kept quiet.

The dashcam recording played. As the car neared South Kingston Bridge, Elara's voice could be heard, asking Wayne to stop. She wanted to walk along the river. Then came the sound of the car door opening and closing, and Wayne's voice gently trying to persuade her to stay.

"So," Wayne said with a polite smile, "Miss Jules got out of the car on her own. Am I cleared now?"

The officers hesitated, weighing his words. One finally said, "If we need anything else, we'll ask you to cooperate," and prepared to leave.

Charles, however, pressed on. "President Pangborn, you drank last night, so you must have confused where you parted ways with Elara?"

Wayne's eyes sharpened. "The Calloway family sure likes to meddle in other people's business, don't they?"

Charles just smiled. "Reporting a DUI is every good citizen's responsibility."

…

Summer was so angry she nearly bit through her lip.

"Elara's definitely in his hands. He's lying."

Charles stayed composed. "In his position, a DUI would get him suspended. We keep a close watch on him and see where he's hiding her."

"But can Elara wait that long? What if he's some sort of psycho and does—"

Summer couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

Charles hesitated, then decided Brian needed to know.

He found Brian's number and dialed.

"Hello…"

To his surprise, Lina answered.

Charles was taken aback. Brian never let his phone out of his sight—unless…

"Wh—why is it you?"

"This is her last shot. If it doesn't work, you'll have to find another subject—number 38. Better to maximize the odds."

She spoke as casually as if discussing how the morning's coffee was a little too weak.

Wayne waved her off.

"Someone might be watching outside. Be careful when you leave."

With that, he walked over to Elara, knelt down, and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her to look at him.

Her gaze was empty, her lips smeared with bloody spit. Her skin had taken on a sickly grayish hue.

Wayne shook his head with mock pity. "Such a waste. How about you do yourself a favor? Call your friends, tell them you're off traveling for a couple of weeks. Cooperate, and I might actually treat you kindly."

Elara spat blood right at him.

"I'll never give you what you want. Not unless you kill me."

The agony of the shocks had nearly broken her; every time she drifted toward unconsciousness, another injection would force her back. Four hours between each round—her body was at its limit, and the urge to die had never been stronger.

Wayne just smiled. "You're the one Mr. Vincent threw away. Isn't it time to drop the tough act? Play along, let me have what I need, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you stick around for that pretty face of yours."