See No Evil Read Online Free PDF

niece. Relieve the guard we have on Ms. Montgomery’s room and let me know what they say, okay?”
    “Roger that.” Diaz left.
    Gage joined him on the drive. “Chandler is going to be pissed if she finds out,” Gage said.
    “She’d be doing the same thing if she were thinking straight,” Will countered. “It’s pretty obvious what’s going on. Julia Chandler and Crystal Montgomery hate each other. Crystal was married to Julia’s brother. He dies, and Crystal wants the Chandler money but not the Chandler family. I remember when Emily ran away.”
    “I don’t,” Gage said.
    “Connor Kincaid was the PI who found her.” As Carina Kincaid’s partner, Will was an honorary member of the Kincaid family. He knew more than most about Connor’s life since he’d been pushed off the police force.
    “I’ve called the e-crimes unit to dismantle and check the computers and security system,” Gage said. “They’ll be here in an hour.”
    “By the book, that’s all we can do right now.”
    One of the crime technicians entered the front door.
    “Dr. Gage?”
    “What?”
    “We found shears with possible blood evidence.”
    “Shears?”
    The assistant held up pruning shears sealed in a clear, thick plastic evidence bag. The curved blades made up half the ten-inch length. Except for the dried blood, they looked new and unused.
    “Where’d you find them?”
    “In the gardening shed behind the house. We have some foot impressions and other possible evidence. We’re collecting molds right now.”
    “Keep me informed.”
    Will said, “If the killer put the shears back in the shed, it couldn’t have been the stepdaughter, not in her condition.”
    “I never believed she acted alone.”

FOUR
    J USTICE? R EVENGE? P AYBACK? Any way the police looked at it, his plan was working even better than he’d hoped. He smiled, confident he was in complete control of the operation.
    He poured himself a Scotch straight up, a twenty-one-year-old Chivas, took it out on the balcony, taking in the cool midnight ocean breeze. The view of the brightly lit coastline, the ocean, black and endless, moved him. He observed the exquisite beauty of the moment, held it with his trained eye, imprinted the exact time and emotion in his soul.
    This is how God must feel.
    Victor Montgomery was dead. Not only dead, but killed in a manner that suited his lifestyle. He loved the irony of Montgomery’s murder, just like he’d enjoyed the irony of how he picked his killing team, how he planned the executions, how everyone involved recognized and worshipped his brilliance.
    His team leader had, of course, immediately reported the successful kill earlier that evening, so he didn’t have to wait for newspaper and television reports to announce Montgomery’s death. But it was only now, late at night, that he had time to sit alone in his beautiful home, with his favorite drink, and savor his triumph.
    After the final kill, the circle would be complete. The police would scramble about with their theories, but they wouldn’t be able to prove anything. The media would learn the secrets of the murdered and expose their reputations to humiliation and embarrassment. Through it all, he’d sit in his house and enjoy the product of his handiwork, all without getting a drop of blood on his own hands.
    He’d been thinking a lot lately about the beginning. The real beginning. Not when they’d executed the first kill. Not when he recruited his team, not even when he came up with the plan in the name of “justice.”
    The real beginning was the day of his birth. Every day from then forward, his mother had told him he was destined for greatness. But again and again his decisions had been stolen from him. Life conspired to dominate him, control him.
    Not anymore. He’d engaged in the battle and was winning.
    He stared at his hands, the fingers with the Midas touch. His physique—strong, muscular, not an ounce of extra fat. He didn’t need a mirror to know he