Impostor (17 page)

I pushed past him and fought my way through the masses and over to the stairs. Thankfully the bathroom wasn’t occupied. I shut the door behind me and slumped against it. Thinking about Alec made my head hurt. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

I splashed some water on my face and looked up at my reflection through the water droplets clinging to my lashes. Dark blond lashes, dark blond hair, and blue eyes. I realized I wasn’t even surprised to see that face anymore. It had become a part of me, the same way Madison’s parents, her quirky uncle, and her best friend had all become my world.

Outside the narrow bathroom window, something caught my attention and I stopped to get a better look outside. The lights streaming out of the house illuminated only half of the vast backyard. A figure was making his way across the lawn, and in the last few moments before the figure was swallowed by darkness, I could make out who it was: Devon.

What was he doing out there?

I’d thought he was in Francesca’s room, having fun. I checked my watch. It had been an hour since I’d seen him come upstairs with her. They were probably long finished with whatever they’d done.

Suddenly, screams ripped through the constant boom of the music, through the drunken laughter and singing. They multiplied, mingled, rose in volume. It was clear that they weren’t shouts of glee; they were cries of terror. I flung open the door and dashed down the stairs, then out of the house and into the garden where the noise was coming from. More and more people were gathering in the backyard.

Alec appeared at my side.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. He stretched to get a look over the heads of the other guests who hustled around us. But my eyes dropped to the ground, where a fine trail of mist curled around my ankles.

The feeling left my legs.

A sudden hush fell over the crowd.

“Is she dead?”

“What happened to her?”

“She’s not moving.” The whispers carried over to us and then the sobbing began.

There was a figure lying on the grass. She was completely still. And I knew without a doubt that this wasn’t a person who’d passed out from one too many drinks.

The killer had been here. He’d found his next victim.

CHAPTER 19

A
nother murder. Right under our very noses.

“Oh God,” someone whispered. “She’s dead.”

Alec pushed past the growing mass of spectators. My body bristled at the thought of getting any closer, but I followed. We fought our way to the middle of the circle that had formed around the body. Alec crouched beside the body and I stopped short behind him. He pressed two fingers against her throat, searching for a pulse. That’s when I saw her face. It was Francesca. Killed in her own home.

A wire curled around her neck. Blood trailed down her throat, trickling to her bra. Her shirt had been torn and an A had been cut into the skin above her rib cage. Hints of dewdrops and white frost dotted her clothes—the remnants of fog.

Francesca’s face was turned toward me, a cold and hollow look in her lifeless eyes. They were accusing. If I’d worked harder, maybe then she’d be alive.

I turned away, lost in the whirlwind of voices around me. I pushed my way through the crowd, elbows rammed into my sides, shoulders against my back. In the distance I could hear the sound of sirens.

I made it a few steps away from the other guests, to the part of the yard that lay shrouded in darkness, and leaned against an old tree, the rough bark pressing into my forehead. Devon had disappeared into the unlit part of the backyard just moments before the screams had started. He’d been outside when Francesca had been killed, and he’d been the last person I’d seen with her.

“It’s not your fault. You’re doing your best. We all are.”

I jumped at the sound of Alec’s voice. Couldn’t he leave me alone for one effing moment?

“Oh, so that’s what you think now? You sounded really different there in the kitchen.”

He raised his hands. “Whoa. Calm down.” He lowered his voice. “I’m just worried about you.”

A police car and an ambulance pulled up at the curb and Alec turned to watch them. I used the moment to slip away; I couldn’t stand to be around him right now.

I turned back toward the house. The police officers and the paramedics ran straight to the backyard, where Francesca was pronounced dead.

Ana stood on the front porch, her face blotchy and her eyes red-rimmed. She stumbled toward me. I wasn’t sure if her wobbly gait was due to alcohol or shock. She bumped into me, nearly knocking me over. I hugged her and she slumped against me. My own legs felt like they might give way.

“Oh god, Maddy, did you see her? He was here! He killed her. Killed her.” Her words came out jumbled and mingled with sobs.

I pulled away, my eyes searching the throngs of people on the porch and in the doorway. There wasn’t a sign of Devon anywhere. I doubted he had returned but maybe someone had seen him moments before the murder.

“Have you seen Devon?”

Ana rubbed her eyes. “No. Haven’t seen him in a while. Why? Do you think he’s safe?”

No
, I thought. He just might be the killer.

I kissed her cheek. “I just want him to take me home. I’ll go try to find him. Do you have a ride home?”

“My stepfather’s taking me.” She nodded toward one of the police cars. Right. I’d forgotten that he was a police officer.

“Be careful,” I warned before I made my way through the crowd that had gathered on the porch. The inside of the house was a mess. Empty beer bottles, broken glass, spilled alcohol, and crumbled chips littered the floor. The rug squished under my feet from all the beer that had been spilled on it. I carefully climbed to the stairs, only to discover that nobody was on the second floor. I peeked into a few rooms until I found Francesca’s. Not surprisingly, the blankets were ruffled as if someone had been sleeping in them—or doing other things. Why had Devon brought her up here to make out—in front of everyone—if his plan was to kill her afterward? It was reckless. But killers didn’t always act reasonably.

Francesca’s window overlooked the backyard—now the murder scene. Police officers, paramedics, and Sheriff Ruthledge were gathered around the body. Alec and Major, dressed as a civilian, hovered a few steps away. The party guests had been pushed to the edges of the yard, but many of them still watched the scene like it was a crime show on TV.

The hinges groaned and I whirled around, almost losing my footing. Ryan stood in the doorway. Anxiety crawled up my spine. I shouldn’t have gone upstairs on my own.

“What are you doing here?” My voice came out hard.

“Calm down, okay? I saw you go upstairs and just wanted to check on you. What are
you
doing here?”

“None of your business.” I crossed the room, wanting to squeeze past him, but his arm shot out, blocking my escape.

I balled my fists. “Get out of my way.” The collar of his shirt shifted, revealing a series of small bruises on his left shoulder. He followed my gaze, and red blotches blossomed on his cheeks. He pulled up his collar. “You know how hot-tempered my father gets. . . .” He trailed off. But my eyes were no longer on his bruises. There was blood on his right hand. “I cut myself,” he said quickly, and turned his hand around to show me the gash in his palm.

“How did that happen?” I asked.

“Broken beer bottle. What? Do you think—” he stopped as we heard the sound of steps pounding up the stairs. He dropped his arm, making room for me to leave. I hesitated. The cut didn’t look like a bottle had done it.

“Madison?” Alec called, and it took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. I ran out of the room and found Alec halfway up the steps. “Where have you been? I was looking for you,” he said. His eyes narrowed when they landed on Ryan, lingering in the hall, his hands in his pockets.

I needed to get outside, to go somewhere I could breathe. Alec followed me but waited until we were out of earshot of the crowd before he began talking. “You have to be more careful, Tess. Being alone with Ryan isn’t the best idea.”

I paused to glower at him. “He followed me upstairs. I didn’t invite him.”

Alec ignored my snide tone. “You’re already in enough danger with Devon around, but as long as we don’t know for sure that he’s the murderer, you should avoid being alone with guys. All of them.”

“You’re a guy.”

“Tess, I’m serious,” he said with a hint of exasperation.

“Are you done with your lecture now? I’m not stupid. I can handle this myself.” And I realized it was true. I could handle this. I didn’t need Alec or anyone else. I’d played Madison for weeks now without anyone growing suspicious, I’d faced Ryan and Yates
and
kept them in check, and I’d figured out the fog connection. I could do this.

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“Just drop it, okay?” I said. “I think Ryan is the killer.”

Alec frowned. “Why? What happened?”

“I just noticed a cut on his palm. It looked like it was caused by a wire. I think he cut himself when he strangled Francesca.”

“A cut. That’s all?” Alec shook his head. “What about Devon?”

“Well, I saw him walking around outside shortly before they found Francesca—”

“You saw Devon at the crime scene?”

“Not exactly. I saw him leaving the yard. But at the time, he wasn’t with Francesca.”

“How can you defend him? Don’t you realize what you’re doing? You’re so desperate to prove that Devon is innocent that you’re drawing incorrect conclusions.”

He nodded toward a black Jeep parked at the end of the street. “Major wants to have a talk with us.”

“Why? Did you already tell him how you think I’m messing up?”

He released a breath and turned his head away, leaving me to stare at his profile, at the way his tendons strained in his throat. “You act like I’m some kind of traitor. I’m not telling Major everything, you know. I’m just trying to do my job and keep you safe.”

Major watched us with a grim face as we slid into the backseat. Alec and I told Major what we’d seen, and despite Alec’s earlier rebuff, I voiced my suspicion about Ryan. Finally Major spoke.

“I agree with Alec. And I think it’s time for us to focus our efforts on our main suspect.”

I knew who that was.

“You saw Devon with the dead girl just moments before her body was found, and now he’s gone. We finally have to act on our suspicions. My instinct tells me that he’s the Variant we’re looking for.”

He paused, searching my face. My fingernails dug into my palms.

“I want you to search Devon’s room. It’s possible he’s hiding something that’ll prove his guilt, or perhaps you can find out who’ll be his next victim. Look through his belongings, corner him, watch for unusual behavior. Change into him and talk to his friends if you must. Do everything that’s necessary to stop him.”

CHAPTER 20

T
he following day, I spent most of the morning at the police station and the rest of the day with Linda, who didn’t let me out of her sight. I hadn’t seen Devon yet. Ronald had taken him to speak with the police on his way in to work, and he’d been closed off in his room since the moment he got home. I had a feeling that he was purposely avoiding me.

A clattering came from the kitchen—the sound of pots being placed into the cupboards. I followed the noise downstairs and stopped in the doorway. Linda’s blond hair was in a high ponytail, revealing the chain of her matching rose necklace. She wiped her hands and gave me that smile that made me feel like I was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

I looked away.

She scanned my face. “You look pale, sweetheart.” Her blue eyes crinkled with worry.

“I’m fine, Mom. Just a bit tired.”

“Are you sure it’s nothing serious? Maybe we should go to Dr. Fonseca.”

“It’s nothing.”
Except for the fact that your son is the main suspect in our murder case
. It would kill her if it was true. How could parents possibly survive something like that? Finding out about their daughter’s death and then that their other child was the killer.

Linda’s eyes searched my face before she nodded reluctantly. “Let me make you some hot chocolate.”

Her skin was sickly pale. She’d broken down crying when she’d found out about Francesca, and it hadn’t helped matters that I had been at the same party. The whole town was in a state of panic, some families going so far as to evacuate the area. If we didn’t catch the killer soon, people would tear down the police station.

The smell of chocolate wafted through the kitchen. Linda sprinkled a few mini marshmallows into the cup before she handed it to me. It was the best hot chocolate in the world.

Steps pounded down the staircase and Devon bounded into the kitchen. Dark shadows were spread under his eyes. My hands started shaking, so I had to put my cup down.

Linda kissed his cheek before she pressed another cup into his hands and made him sit down across from me at the table. I stared at the tabletop, not wanting to look into his eyes. I’d have to face him soon, but not in front of Linda.

You can’t protect her forever
, a tiny voice whispered in my head. But I wanted to try. I was still haunted by Linda’s terrified expression when she heard about the latest murder.

I could feel Devon’s eyes on my face, prodding, searching, but I didn’t look up to meet his gaze. Bringing the cup to my lips, I took another gulp, braced myself, and forced my face into an expressionless mask. I raised my eyes. He frowned. After a glance over at Linda, who was rinsing the hot chocolate pot, he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mouthed right back.

He didn’t buy it.

“Tired,” I whispered, surprised how calm my voice sounded.

Linda dried the dishes, unaware of the tension right across the room. When she was done, she turned to us. “I’m heading to bed. I don’t feel well.” She took a bottle of sleeping pills from the drawer below the sink and popped two into her mouth. She smiled apologetically. “I guess I’ve had trouble sleeping lately.”

I sat the cup down on the table and stood. “I should probably try to catch up on rest too.” It was still early evening, but I didn’t want to stay in a room alone with Devon. Even if I still questioned his guilt. He stared at his cocoa, not even glancing my way.

When I’d left the kitchen, I heard Devon’s chair scrape over the floor. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know he was following me up the stairs.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“You’ve been acting weird,” I said, stopping in front of my room.

“You’re one to talk. It’s like I don’t even recognize you sometimes,” he shot back.

“What do—” I stopped myself. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” I shook my head. “Forget it. I’m tired.” I stepped into my room and closed the door, and he didn’t try to stop me.

Devon was our main suspect. Alec had said it and Major agreed, so why couldn’t I shake the feeling that I was missing something?

I listened for Devon’s footsteps in the corridor, expecting him to head into his room. Instead he went downstairs, and the front door fell shut. This was my chance.

I tiptoed into the corridor. The house was silent. Ronald would be gone all night, keeping watch over a dog with a gastric torsion. His and Linda’s bedroom door was ajar. I peeked in to see Linda sprawled out on the bed, her lips drifting apart as soft snores echoed from them. I closed the door carefully and moved on to Devon’s room.

Devon was surprisingly tidy for a guy, with all of his belongings seemingly in place. I’d seen rooms inhabited by boys at the FEA that had given me a rash just from looking at them.

I wasn’t sure where Devon had gone or how long he would be, so I had to hurry. I didn’t know what Major and Alec expected me to find. Many serial killers kept souvenirs of the victims as trophies to remind them of their success. Months later, I still remembered the photos and descriptions of different serial killer cases I’d studied in class. Some had been so horrible that I still had nightmares about them. One guy kept body parts of the women he’d killed. The police had found tongues, fingers, and even eyes in his freezer.

But I still couldn’t imagine Devon killing someone—much less his own twin sister.

Kneeling in front of the bed, I lifted the mattress and found . . . a
Playboy
. I looked behind the posters on his walls and in his wardrobe. But there was nothing interesting.

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 hadn’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. He was the better agent, the better person, the better everything.

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. 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.

I dashed into Madison’s room, grabbed my cell phone and the Taser, and stepped back into the hall. A cough from Linda and Ronald’s bedroom made me freeze. Even so, there was no time to spare. I ran down the stairs and was out of the house within seconds, just in time to see Devon turn the corner. My ballet flats made no sound as I jogged over the concrete, following him. Devon wasn’t running, but he was walking incredibly fast. I kept as much distance as I could without losing him.

I fumbled with the cell phone and pressed the speed dial key. I needed to tell Alec that Devon was the killer. I tried Alec’s cell but it went straight to voice mail. Devon looked over his shoulder, and I pressed myself against the side of a parked SUV. He kept moving. He seemed to know exactly where he was going. I, on the other hand, had no idea.

Keeping an eye on Devon, I shot Alec a quick text.

Following Devon. He’s the killer. Is up to something. Update soon.

Alec would want me to wait for backup, but there was no time. I could handle it. I sent off the text, switched my cell to silent, and stuffed it into the pocket of my jeans.

We advanced to a part of town where the street lights were few and far between. Long stretches of our path were cloaked in darkness. My breath and the soft
pad-pad
of my shoes on concrete were the only sounds around us. In the distance I could make out the occasional glow of a window or a street lamp. Devon turned onto a gravel road. I followed, keeping to the roadside so the crunch of pebbles wouldn’t give me away. Trees towered on both sides of us, shielding what little light the moon could give.