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PENELOPE

Inever get around to calling David the lawyer, mostly because I crash out on the big bed upstairs a little after Victor and I decide we’re going to do it at the party. And then some time in the early morning, when I’m still curled up in that bed, David calls me. I don’t see the message until mid-morning, though, after Victor heads into town to pick out my costume. I’m pacing around, trying to work off my jagged, manic energy, and see the voicemail on my phone.

I suck in my breath and listen. It’s not much.

“Hi Penelope. I need you to call me back. Let me know you’re okay.”

I take the phone out onto the cabin’s expansive balcony, which juts out over the mountainside. The morning is very cold, and I can taste steel in the air, like it might start snowing again.

“Are you going to trap us together again?” I ask the wind. If the gods are there, listening, I don’t get a response. Well, except for a sudden, shivering gust that blows the dead leaves around on the balcony.

I look down at my phone, at the missed call from David, and work up a story to tell him that explains why I didn’t get picked up by the cops, why I cleared out the room, why I didn’t call him last night.

The wind gusts again, stirring my hair. I just hope Adrian is okay.

I walk up to the balcony as I call back David, the ring sounding hollow in my ear.

“Hey,” I tell him when he answers. “It’s me. Penelope.

“Oh, thank fuck.” He sounds frazzled. “When you didn’t call me back last night, I was so fucking worried. I take it you know what happened?”

“Cops found out what we were planning,” I say carefully. “I saw them gathering around the inn and got⁠—”

“It’s not that,” David interrupts. “Adrian was arrested for murder.”

I’m expecting it, but hearing it still feels like a shock, and it’s easy for me to fake my surprise. “What!” I cry. “Why? Is this about those murders outside of town? Adrian told me, but I can’t imagine why they would think he did it.”

I slump down in a nearby Adirondack chair, the lying leaving me exhausted.

“Oh, they’ve got nothing on him,” David says. “Absolutely no evidence, and Adrian has a half-decent alibi. Not great, but good enough.”

I breathe out, genuinely relieved.

“The problem,” David continues, “is that the cops are stalling because Wolrath still wants to have his stupid little party. Which you need to stay the hell away from, by the way.”

Something like guilt twists around in my belly. “Yeah, I’m not stupid.”

“Good. Are you still in Clifwell?”

The question catches me off guard. “No,” I finally say, staring out at the leafless trees. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. I saw the cops gathering last night, grabbed my stuff and Adrian’s laptop, and got in touch with a—” The wind blows harder, cold against my skin. “With a friend I have out here. He lives about four or five hours up the mountain. I’m staying with him.”

David lets out a long, relieved sigh. “We were worried about the laptop. Glad you have it. Adrian trashed his phone before the cops grabbed him, which probably wasn’t the smartest move but doesn’t prove anything, either. Worst they’ve got on him is the camera he bought, but that doesn’t exactly equal a murder weapon, you know?”

“Right.” My heart’s pounding furiously. “Why won’t they let Adrian go if he has an alibi?”

David lets out a long, frustrated groan. “That Halloween party,” he says. “Wolrath is making the cops keep Adrian in custody until after the party’s over. Convincing everyone they caught the billionaire killer.”

The billionaire killer. Despite myself, I rather like the ring of that, even if Victor didn’t have a goddamn idea who he was killing at the Mountain Thistle Motel. It seems he was right, though. Adrian will be in custody until after the party’s over. No one will be able to accuse him of killing Nicholas Wolrath.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” David continues. “I can pass the word on to Adrian. In the meantime, stay out of that fucking town. As far as I know, nobody knows you were ever there but Adrian, and he’s keeping his mouth shut.”

Relief washes over me. The perfect alibi for me, isn’t it? No sign of my existence. Not even my car made it to Clifwell.

“I can do that,” I lie. “But I just want to make sure Adrian is okay.”

That part isn’t a lie, at least.