Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
My eyes fell on the desk. It was an obvious spot, and the last place I’d hide something I wouldn’t want anyone to find, but maybe he thought nobody would look.
I hesitated, my fingers resting on the knob of the desk drawer. Get a grip, I thought. It’s not like you’re going to find body parts. There’s probably nothing in here.
And so I opened it.
A stack of photos was on top. Regular photos, from some party: Devon with his friends, Devon with Ryan—had they been friends before the breakup? Devon with Francesca, smiling and locking lips.
They hadn’t officially been a couple but apparently that hadn’t stopped them from hooking up on more than one occasion. I put the photos down and froze. In the drawer, beneath where the photos had been, was a pile of snippets from newspaper articles. All of them appeared to be about the murders—articles about the victims, printed-out Wikipedia pages about serial killers, and information about the case. Had he been trying to keep this stuff hidden? Information about Mr. Chen, the janitor, Dr. Hansen, and Kristen Cynch were scribbled down in Devon’s handwriting. It was hard to decipher in places, but he’d gathered a wealth of information about each of them: their habits, family members, friends, and daily routines.
I carefully placed the evidence back into the drawer and scanned the room for other hiding places, but there didn’t seem to be anything else suspicious. As I crossed to exit the room, the tip of my shoe caught on something uneven. One of the wooden floorboards seemed to be raised. I nudged it and the wood jiggled—it was loose. I pried my fingernails into the gap and with a tug the board popped out. I dropped it, hands shaking, and reached for what was hidden beneath, but my fingers stopped before I could touch it.
It was a necklace with a rose pendant, identical to the one Ronald had given me. Madison’s necklace. It was encrusted with something black—dried blood. I didn’t dare move it. Gasping, I sank down onto my butt. Devon must have taken the necklace when he killed Madison. As a trophy. That was the only explanation. I’d read the reports. Madison had been found at the lake without it.
I couldn’t believe it. Devon was the killer. He’d always been so nice, so caring and attentive, and I’d even started feeling attracted to him in a very unsisterly way. That alone should have been proof something was wrong with him.
I’d been so sure Devon wasn’t the killer, had been so sure Alec’s suspicions were founded on dislike or jealousy. Why didn’t my instincts lead me to realize the truth? Alec wasn’t jealous of Devon after all. Alec didn’t let his emotions get in the way of our mission.
I’d almost forgotten to watch the time when I heard footsteps on the staircase.
I looked around for a place to hide. If Devon found me here, he’d know I’d been spying on him and would have every reason to come after me. He knocked on my door, but of course I couldn’t answer him because I was in his room. Silence followed. Damn. There was a creak in the hallway.
I dropped to my knees and squeezed under the bed. A moment later Devon’s sneakers came into view. He hesitated in the doorway. I held my breath but my pulse pounded in my ears.
He stepped inside and closed the door, his calm breathing the only audible sound. I held my breath and watched his shoes—black with the white Nike logo. Dew drops glistened on them as if he’d waded through fog. They moved past me and toward his dresser.
He crouched down and loosened another floorboard. If he turned around, he’d see me just as clearly as I could see him. I steeled myself as he reached into the hole in the floor and pulled out a hunting knife. Had he used it to cut the A’s into his victims?
He straightened and came toward the bed. I tensed my legs, preparing to kick him if he spotted me, but he fumbled with something on his nightstand. My lungs screamed for air but I didn’t dare breathe with him so close. He would hear the sound. But then he turned and disappeared into the corridor, leaving the door ajar. Sucking in a deep breath, I waited for his steps to move down the staircase before I wiggled out of my hiding place. My legs shook as I straightened.
I touched the rose pendant around my neck.
Devon was leaving. Was he going to kill again? I hurried toward the window, careful to stay pressed against the wall, so nobody could see me from outside. A figure crossed the yard and continued down the street. Soon he’d disappear around the corner.
Not if I was fast enough.