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I shake my head. “She was genuinely freaked out by him taking off.”
“So...”
“Someone broke in the other day.”
He goes still. When I meet his gaze, he ducks away, cheeks darkening.
“Tom...”
“That was me.” He blurts the words and then presses his palms to his eyes. “Shit. I’m sorry. I feel terrible. I didn’t mean to knock you down. Certainly didn’t mean to make you run through glass. I barreled into you in the dark, and I didn’t even realize it was you. Just got the hell out of there. I am so sorry.”
“I could tell no one came in through the window, which made me wonder whether it was Celeste or Liam. But you know where Gran kept her key, don’t you?”
“Yeah, from helping her out. I—” He takes a deep breath. “I wanted to help. I know that sounds stupid—it was stupid. I recognized you and figured you were here to get dirt on fake Celeste before turning her in. The best place to find that dirt would be her laptop. So I quietly broke the window to fake a break-in. Then I used the key, got her laptop and...”
“Smacked into me making your escape.”
“I didn’t even manage to hold onto the damned computer. I am the worst spy ever. I’m sorry. Again. I would never have done it if I’d had any idea you could get hurt.” He takes a deep breath. “I also went poking around the shed. I thought I saw you on the road, jogging in the rain, and I wanted to check, to see if you were at the house. I saw the shed, with signs of repair. I didn’t expect you to be in it, and I think I spooked you. I’m sorry.”
I remember that first night of the storm, someone outside, someone in worn jeans and work boots. Which is exactly what Tom wears, but I never made the connection.
“You startled me,” I say. “But I understand. That means Liam’s death isn’t linked to either that or the break-in.” I look down at the body. “He confronted me last night. He knew who I was, and he threatened me, but we came to an understanding. I’ll explain all that later. For now, let’s just say Liam’s hands weren’t exactly clean.”
Tom snorts. “Hell, yeah. I tried telling your gran that. So now he’s dead, and that makes this whole mess even messier. You could report it and then lie about your identity, but I’m sure you don’t plan to keep lying so...”
If I lie now, how guilty will I seem when I reveal that I’m the real Celeste?
Once the police know who I am, unless they’ve already caught whoever killed Liam, I’ll be their prime suspect. I came back to find my grandmother’s lawyer conspiring with the woman who stole my inheritance. I confront him with a gun, and we argue and...
I look down at Liam, with a bullet hole where his eye used to be.
“We’ll report the Rover,” Tom says. “Well, you will. If both of us were out here, it’d seem odd. You were cutting through here and found his SUV. While running back to tell Celeste, you spotted a light on at my place.”
I’m still staring down at Liam.
“CeCe?”
“Daisy,” I say, still looking at Liam. “You need to call me Daisy.”
His bare feet squelch in the mud, as if he’s shifting his weight, uncomfortable.
“You want me to end this,” I say. “Come forward. Let her run.”
No answer.
I look over, and there are frown lines around his mouth, giving me a glimpse of what he’ll look like in ten years. Ten years plus a bushel basket of regrets heaped on his shoulders, things he got mixed up in when he couldn’t afford to, lies he told when he didn’t want to.
“I didn’t kill him,” I say.
His chin jerks up, as if he’s been startled from a reverie. His brow furrows more, anger now. “I know. You said so, and I believe you.”
“I wouldn’t let you help me if I did this.”
His mouth tightens at that, and I’m the one frowning, but he only sighs and rocks back on his heels.
“I don’t like this,” he says. “I don’t like the entire situation. Only one thing keeps me from insisting you step forward and just get rid of her.” He rubs his mouth and looks sidelong at me. “You are her. She’s you, at least.”
“You mean whoever killed him might come after me?”
