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)
The ping of an incoming e-mail interrupted my search. I clicked on the little envelope from Holly, which was likely a response to the rambling e-mail I’d sent her about Alec.
Hi sweetie,
I’m so, so sorry. I can’t BELIEVE that happened. I want to wring his neck.
Why the hell can’t Alec pull his head out of his ass and finally realize that you’re perfect for each other? Though now he doesn’t deserve you after all the shit he’s put you through. I just don’t get it. He’s never been an insensitive asshole before. Maybe Kate brainwashed him during their mission a few months ago. That would explain why he endures her bitchiness. I wish I was there to distract you.
Hugs,
Holly
P.S. I dyed my hair fury-red in your honor.
I closed the e-mail, tired of thinking about Alec, before I returned to the crime database. Two of the victims—Madison and Kristen—had been found close to the lake. There were pictures of the A’s the killer had cut into the skin of his victims. They all looked exactly like the one on Madison’s rib cage. I touched the spot under my bra.
There had to be something else here, some detail the killer forgot to cover. I searched Google for more mentions of the murders and found a few articles on the website of a local rag.
The first was about Mr. Chen.
“Mr. Mendoza was on his nightly jog when dense fog forced him to take a shortcut past the victim’s backyard . . .”
Dense fog? There had been fog the first night I’d seen the stranger watching my window and then again when I’d followed him into the forest. And fog had kept Alec from catching the guy. And hadn’t Yates said it had been a hazy day when Madison was attacked?
I clicked on an article about Kristen Cynch and glanced through it until I found what I was looking for.
“The retrieval of the body of high school senior Kristen Cynch (17) was complicated by mist that blanketed parts of the northern shore.”
My hand shook when I opened the next report about Dr. Hansen.
“The neighbors didn’t find the body until early the next morning, after the fog had lifted.”
The articles about Madison also mentioned fog. Livingston was notoriously rainy but it couldn’t be a coincidence that every murder was accompanied by a curiously thick mist.
Fog. That had to be the hint we’d been searching for. What if the killer was a Variant who could control the weather in some way? I jumped up from my desk chair and turned out the lights before I slipped out of the window, almost breaking my neck when I lost my grip on the ledge. I was already running late for the meeting. Summers wouldn’t excuse tardiness—not even a broken bone would change that.
My ballet flats were noiseless on the wet asphalt as I weaved my way through Livingston. I turned a corner and stopped dead when fog spread before me. Milky, intangible fingers of haze dusted against me, making me shiver. Mist coiled around my legs and arms, snatching at my skin and hair. It felt like a living, breathing thing. Like something more than nature.
I shied away. A chill wound its way around my ankle like tentacles, cold and slithery. It didn’t want me to go. I gasped at the icy sensation, but the fog swallowed the noise. Nobody would hear me if I screamed. I steeled myself and kicked out. My feet went right through the veil of mist but the grip around my ankles disappeared. I sprinted into the haze, not breathing, not pausing, not once glancing over my shoulder to see if someone—or something—was following me. Icy wetness slithered across every inch of exposed skin, seeping into my pores. It took hold of me, made me feel cold inside and out.
Shaking, I stepped onto the porch of Summers and Alec’s home and, as I turned to look back in the direction I’d come, the streets were clear. It was gone. Not hint of fog . . .or whatever had disguised itself as fog.
I unlocked the front door with trembling hands. I was a few minutes late for our meeting but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not after what had just happened. Voices were coming from the living room. I slipped out of my shoes—something Summers was very adamant about—before I followed the sound. Major, Summers, and Alec were seated around the dining room table. So Major was back in town. They stopped talking when they spotted me.
Alec leaped from his chair and rushed toward me, his face alarmed. “What happened?” His hands rested on my shoulders and I didn’t have it in me to shake them off. My body felt numb. I couldn’t even feel my legs anymore. The walls tipped around me and suddenly I was in Alec’s arms.