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Cody took a step back and Oliver gasped.
“Jesus Christ. Did I really knock some sense back into her?” Oliver’s heart pounded as an icy sense of dread ran through him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.
With her head raised, Oliver could see a flap of skin dangling from the woman’s cheek. It wobbled as she shook her head again to clear more hair from her face, and he flinched as his stomach did a slow barrel roll. He couldn’t look away from the wound, no matter how much he wanted to, but the more he stared at it, the less sense it made. There was no blood. And there was no raw, red muscle beneath. Instead, beneath the flapping skin, he could see what looked like firmer skin.
“No,” Cody said in a low voice, also staring at her cheek. “No way.”
“Is that…” Oliver took a step closer and bent over to squint at the woman’s face. “Are you wearing a mask?”
She opened her eyes and glared, then darted her head forward and clicked her teeth together. Oliver took a quick step back and tripped over his own feet, falling on his ass onto the damp carpet. The woman let out a harsh laugh.
“A mask of all things. Oh man, Demmy would love this so fucking much.” Cody’s voice was soft and filled with longing, and he whispered, “Demmy.”
“Yeah,” Oliver said, getting to his feet as a cold ache filled his chest. “Dave would, too.”
“You assholes. Untie me!” The woman tried to pull free, but Cody had tied the knots tight. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“We’ll let you go.” Cody brought the other chair over and sat in front of her, leaving several feet between them. “But first you need to explain some things.”
She struggled some more, then gave up and slumped in the chair, panting. “Fine.”
“Good.” Cody stood and waved for Oliver to take his place.
“What?” Oliver said, confused.
“This is what you wanna do, right? Have a seat and ask her questions like the cub reporter you are.”
Oliver swallowed hard and eased himself into the chair. He stared at the woman, and she glared back, her blue eyes sharp as she watched him. He licked his lips and gripped the arms of the chair tight as he tried to think of where to start.
“Sometime tonight, Ollie.”
“I’m thinking.” Oliver settled himself in the chair a bit. “Are you wearing a mask?”
She made a face. “No. My skin peels away like this when it’s too damp out.” She looked at Cody. “Is he always like this?”
“You’ll get used to him,” Cody said.
“Fine, we’ll play it your way,” Oliver said, feeling irritated and anxious and uncertain. “Why are you wearing a mask?”
“To disguise myself. Next question.”
“Do you know where our friends are?”
She smirked. “Friends or lovers?”
“Look, don’t get cute,” Cody snapped. “My husband and my brother are lost out in the woods, and we’re pretty sure you have some idea of where they are.”
“You know why they’re missing, don’t you?” the woman asked, her eyes taking on a mean glint. “You know how she selects her victims, right?”
“You’re talking about the ghost?” Oliver said, then, to gauge her reaction, added, “Rebecca Hawkins?”
The woman regarded him coolly and gave a single nod. “You figured out it’s not Ruby Gallagher. You’re about three steps ahead of anyone else who’s come poking around this dump.” Then her expression hardened. “I don’t mention her name. She’s the Vixen, that’s it. She deserves nothing more.”
“Okay, noted,” Oliver said. “You’re asking me if I know how the Vixen chooses her victims?”
“That’s right.” She looked between them, a small, satisfied smile creasing the wrinkled latex mask.
“She chooses men,” Cody said, the words rushed and impatient. “Everyone’s been thinking it’s Ruby Gallagher out for revenge or needing male attention or something, but it’s actually been Reb…” He stopped himself and held up a hand. “It’s been another woman, who we’ll just call the Vixen. We know all of this, Ollie figured it out by researching it online. What we don’t know is where she takes them. Come on, my brother’s been gone for more than twenty-four hours. Where the fuck are they?”
