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Until he saw it. The—what was that? A woman, hanging, bloody and broken in the darkness. Griffin recoiled with shock, blood pounding in his ears. Is it—Oh God. His first thought was it was Jess, and his legs nearly gave out from under him, air rushing from his lungs with a low groan. But then he noticed the blonde hair, and his eyes followed the voices down.
There was Jess, lying on her back, her leg bent at a strange angle. But his relief was short-lived: a man stood over her, a knife in one hand, a gun in the other. And it wasn’t who he was expecting.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But the fingerprints, the DNA on the notebook? It can’t be him.
And then he heard his name.
* * *
“Griffin,” he hears. “Nate Griffin. Get out here right now, or I’ll shoot your little girlfriend in the head.”
Griffin closes his eyes. He knows what this guy has done. He knows he’s a cold-blooded, sadistic killer. The evidence is hanging right in front of him. He has no choice. He can’t let him shoot Jess.
He steps out of the trees and raises his hands above his head. He looks at the man. The man he’s worked alongside. A man he doesn’t like, but whom he trusted. Because he is a police officer. A detective.
“Leave her alone,” Griffin says. “Leave her alone, Deakin.”
CHAPTER
80
“NICE OF YOU to join us, Nate,” Noah says. The gun moves, now pointed at Griffin’s own head.
Griffin sees Jess look at him, then back to Deakin.
“You know him,” she whispers. Even in the dim light Griffin can see she doesn’t look good. She’s pale, shivering.
Griffin smiles grimly. “He’s a cop, Jess. Are you okay?”
“No, she’s not okay,” Deakin exclaims. “She’s got a broken leg, and I fucking shot her.”
Jess looks down in surprise. Griffin sees her put her hand to her side, lift it up, stare at the blood. Red shining in the moonlight.
“Do you like our little angel?”
Griffin looks up at the woman, then stares at Deakin from under lowered brows. “What have you done, Noah?”
“The endgame, Griffin! There always had to be an endgame.” Deakin laughs. It’s high and brittle. “This was never just about one or two murders—it’s a whole fucking masterpiece. An homage, if you like, to the biggest and greatest. And this! Look at this! It’s a fucking work of art! There had to be something better, more elaborate than everything that had come before.”
“You’re ill, Noah. Just hand yourself in. Police are on their way.”
“No, they’re not. I know you. You came by yourself. Fucking lone wolf. Why did you do that, Griffin? Did you have plans of your own?”
Griffin grits his teeth, shaking his head.
“Were you going to kill me—was that it? To get revenge for Mia?” Deakin waves the gun manically for a moment, then points it back at him. “How’s this going to work now, Nate?”
Griffin glares through the darkness, feeling his rage build.
“How quick do you think you can be? Do you think you can get the gun off me before I shoot you? Leave you there bleeding, watching as I do that”—he points up to the woman, then back to Jess—“to her.”
Griffin looks at Jess, desperate, as she begins to cry, tears dropping into the mud.
“I’ll make you watch, Nate,” Deakin hisses. “As I cut her open, pull out her bones, her insides. Hang her from the tree. Leave you both to die. Because that’s what’s going to happen.”
Griffin hesitates. Can he get control before Deakin shoots? Can he bear the consequences if he takes the risk and fails? Like last time? Like with Mia?
But then he hears it. A voice, loud and clear over the wind and the rain.
