“They’re beautiful.”
“She designed my tattoo,” I say, holding out my hand for Hazel to see the illustrated skull intertwined with roses and lilies.
Hazel runs her thumb over the ink.
“I got it after she died,” I tell her. “Took it from one of her sketch books.”
Hazel looks back at the diary. “Is there anything in there that can help with Claren?”
“Nothing so far.”
She puts her elbow on the pillow and rests her head on her hand. Quiet concentration marks her brow as she studies my bare chest.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
“Just thinking. Who brought Hope in as a sacrifice for the Kings?”
“I’m not sure, why?”
“Just something Tommy said at the bar. He said even if I’d shown up back then, he wouldn’t have got to fuck me. I don’t know, he just made it sound like the person who brings the sacrifice doesn’t get to, um… take part.”
I stare at the diary, my mind racing. I’d been so focused on the men in the video, it never occurred to me there could be another person involved. The very person who handed Hope over to those men for his own fucked up gain.
“Dickweed was your boyfriend,” I say.
“Yeah. Hope, was she dating anyone?”
I open the diary, flipping to the page where she first meets the guy she was seeing. “She never refers to him by name. I’ve been calling him Dick. They met in art class at college.”
Something flickers in Hazel’s eyes. She bolts upright.
“What is it?”
“Danny, the senator’s aide, he told me he was an art major at Washington State.”
Spiders crawl up my spine, vicious venom in my veins. “And he just happens to invite you to the ball?”
Hazel goes pale. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”
“He’s working for the senator, Hazel. That’s one hell of a coincidence.”
She looks up at me, her body taut with fear. “Flynn, he knows I’m not a reporter. He knows where I live.”
26
WHO THE HELL IS CARMEN?
Hazel
I’ve spentthe last three days low key terrified that Danny is going to turn up. I keep telling myself that I’m just being paranoid because my life turned into a thriller movie overnight. It’s clearly not working though because my phone pings and I jump out of my skin.
Paranoia: 1 – Hazel: 0
It’s a message from Olivia. I put my hand on my chest and take a breath, then I press the button to video call her.
We’ve both got the day off so she’s sitting on her bean bag eating popcorn when she answers. She’s still in her PJ’s and I long for the days I used to laze around without stressing about serial killers and secret societies.
“Hey,” I say, and Livi signs hello back.
