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One girl is slapping the red water off her that is running down her face like thin blood. People are covered in it. It’s like a bad massacre horror film from the seventies when the blood was portrayed too red and thin.

“Fuck,” Craig hisses. “How the hell did he do this?”

“I don’t know, but whatever he wanted to achieve seems to be working. This town is crumbling within one day of his mind games.”

Chapter 14

Fishes live in the sea, as men do a-land; the great ones eat up the little ones.

—William Shakespeare

LANA

The screams sound like music, and Hadley shudders beside me. “How’d he do that with the paint?”

“I can’t answer that. They’ll be asking you to solve that mystery. Wouldn’t want you figuring out too soon.” I grin over at her as she rolls her eyes.

Jake, like me, has had many years to plan this. He’s mastered several crafts, and the mind-fuckery is just getting started.

Three years ago we committed to it and started planning it all out. But we’d been fantasizing it and creating hypothetical revenge plans. It was easy enough for me to string together one massive plan, and when I took it to Jake, he just made it that much better by infusing all his ideas.

“I guess you won’t tell me about the cameras or the red fountains either, will you?” she asks as she drives.

“I already helped you with your forensics on Morgan so we

could leave sooner. I’m not leaving Logan alone for that long. But I’m not helping you more than you need help.”

She groans.

“Lube is what you told me the reason was for the lesser scorched places on his body. You didn’t give me much else to go on. Why burn him?”

“Figured he needed to get an early dose of what hell would be like,” I say absently.

“Why turn the fountain red? Can you tell me that?”

“It’s not just the fountain. It’s the entire town’s water supply. Don’t worry. It’s not toxic. I wouldn’t risk the children and Logan to that.”

She groans, and I grin, knowing she has a love/hate relationship with me right now. Weirdly, she’s the only female sorta-friend I’ve ever had, other than Lindy. We weren’t ever too close, since Lindy was much older. But she was my sitter when I was growing up and we talked.

Never mind. I’ve never had a real female friend.

“Want to tell me what you learned from Monroe’s crime scene that I didn’t tell you?” I muse.

“I learned you didn’t walk on the soft ground to leave a boot impression.”

“Always a bonus when I get to skip those heavy boots. Love a good sidewalk.”

“There was nothing to implicate you,” she says on a sigh.

“I’m too good for that. I was just curious what you learned.”

“Can we talk about something normal?” she asks, exasperated.

I turn to face her a little better. “Like girl talk? Girls talk about penises, right?”

She grimaces. “Considering you dismember them from bodies, I’d rather not discuss penises with you.”

“Logan’s penis is safe, just so you know.”

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