“Who took that picture? Who sent that message?”
“I don’t know. It’s the third one I’ve received tonight. Each card has Oliver’s name on it.” I avert my eyes. “But it’s obviously not from him. Someone is messing with me. I tried to delay the police, so I’d have time to confront the person.”
“You think it’s someone here?”
“Yes,” I say. “Damien.”
Ava is dazed. She tries to speak, but her throat tremors. “Do you think he pushed Marlowe?”
I nod vigorously. “They were arguing earlier in the night because he found out she was still texting with Michael. She said he was jealous. He could have lashed out and pushed her. The rest of us wouldn’t have done anything to hurt Marlowe. We loved her.”
Ava considers this. Her suspicions throughout the night must have been directing her toward Damien over the rest of us.
“Do you really think he’s capable of orchestrating all of this? What’s his connection to Oliver?”
“The messages I found on Oliver’s computer were between him and someone named Doc. What if Damien is the person who was working with him? I still haven’t worked out all the details, why he was here that night, but I can’t ignore this feeling I have about him.” I pause to consider the alternative—of it being Ava, Constance, or Preston—but I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud. Whether it’s Damien or not, someone is leaving me these messages.
It’s convenient that Ava found the last message, the one containing proof of my crime. She’s the one who insisted on having the party tonight in an isolated location. Maybe Damien is too easy of a scapegoat. Maybe the intention behind the blackmail is more convoluted than I realized.
I dismiss the idea. Ava is my best friend. She appears stunned by what I’ve done. She can’t be that good of an actress, can she?
“I’m not convinced Damien is telling the truth about anything. Marlowe said he lied about how they met. It was really some dating website. Hell, I’m not convinced he’s a fucking doctor! Look at the way he’s acted about Constance’s foot. It’s just another way for him to needle me by bringing up Doc. And he mentioned the crow fountain tonight, too. Remember?” My voice is raised, and I realize how unhinged I must sound. I take a deep breath and restart. “Damien’s spent half the night wandering around the house admiring all the different trinkets and antiques—”
“We all do that,” Ava says, doubtful.
“It’s different with him. Creepier. Think about it. Marlowe andDamien started dating a few weeks ago. Right around the time Oliver…” I pause, forcing myself to say it again out loud. “Right around the time he died. Maybe Damien sought Marlowe out online and weaseled his way into an invitation. Now he’s walking around the house scoping out what he can steal with Oliver out of the picture.”
Ava wears a vague expression, thoughts likely flitting from one theory to another. It’s unclear whether her doubt stems from the outrageousness of my claims or if she no longer trusts anything I say, now that she knows what I’ve done.
“This is all too much.” Ava exhales, her head rattling from left to right. “Marlowe. Oliver. Damien? None of this is making sense.”
She’s experiencing the same overwhelm I’ve felt this entire evening, since I came across that first note resting beside my father’s flowers.
“We need to prove Damien is the person blackmailing me before the police get here.”
“How do we do that?”
“Before I moved, there was a break-in at my apartment. I chased the intruder away, but he was able to leave with a box of Oliver’s things—items I hadn’t had time to ditch yet. Oliver’s Rolex was in the box, and it looks exactly like the one Damien is wearing. Maybe Damien brought some of the other items here.”
“Isn’t it possible that the doctor was able to buy himself a Rolex? It’s a common accessory, especially for men.”
“No, Ava, I’m telling you—it has to be the same gold watch. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“Damien broke into your apartment.” She shakes her head, as if trying to dislodge the jumbled details. “You think he brought those items here? That we should just start looking through his things?”
My chest seizes thinking back to last weekend, my determination to write off the break-in as a coincidence, although part of me knew, even then, there must be a deeper meaning. It’s why I was reluctant to involve the police, but now I don’t have a choice. Because of Marlowe.
“No. We’ve already been up here too long. The others will worry about us and might come looking.” An idea emerges, a spark of brilliance amid the madness. “Let’s go back downstairs. Maybe even enlistConstance or Preston to keep Damien away from us. We’ll create an excuse to check on Marmee, and then we’ll start the search.”
She shuffles away from me. “You can search on your own.”
“Fine, but you should at least keep watch. If Damien is the blackmailer, I can’t have him find me in his room. We could all be in danger.”
There’s another reason I need her involvement. I can’t let Ava out of my sight. For the rest of the night, I’ll worry that she’s going to tell someone my secret.
What if she’s the blackmailer?a small voice asks.
Yet another reason to keep her close to me.
