cannot call someone for you?”
“No.” Jim said, “My daughter will be home soon anyway. I still haven’t told her.”
“There is a reason I am calling you.” Detective Black said, “The driver of the other car has been identified as Cindy Johnson. She is still in a critical condition. It’s a hell of a thing, it’s probably a coincidence –“
Jim could not believe what he was hearing. His grip on his phone weakened and the phone slipped out of his hand. It could not be a coincidence.
“Mr. Steward?” Detective Black said.
Jim ignored the phone that lay at his feet. He was dazed and confused. Cindy Johnson killed his wife? It made no sense. Zaman could not have possibly have planned all of this? Could he? Who was he? What was he?
He should have done what he was told. He should have killed Cindy Johnson when he was told to. Then his wife would still be alive. By not doing what Zaman told him to he caused his wife to be murdered by Cindy Johnson.
He knew all along that the other driver was responsible, but now he had a face to blame. He had never hated anyone more than he hated Cindy Johnson at that moment. Cindy had to die for what she did. Cindy would die before the night was over.