I couldn’t blame those friends for staying undercover when there was a killer running around who could easily track them down and wipe them out. And I suspected one of those unknown friends might’ve been Jon before he’d left the country.
I pictured him, with his gray hair and wrinkles around his eyes, in the photo Amanda Lee had shown me. Weighed down, I continued my fact-finding, but the rest of the articles were more of the same: bad news. News that the cops had shut the files on Elizabeth’s case down, the killer uncaught. Unofficially, she’d been the victim of a random crime.
But there was one article from a tabloid that caught my eye. Here, some of Elizabeth’s friends seemed to be coming out of the woodwork after the police investigation had closed. Were they trying to find anonymous justice on their own at this point?
One unnamed friend reported that Elizabeth had been getting threatening phone calls. She didn’t know whom they were from, but she suspected an ex-boyfriend.
Another said that Elizabeth had bought a gun the week before.
But just when I thought I was getting somewhere, the article ended, and again, it reminded me of my own disappearance.
No more articles after I’d become old news. No one left to keep searching.
Both me and Elizabeth, the forgotten.
Thank God it didn’t have to be that way from now on.
5
Fully recharged by my batteries as well as my research, I went back to the Edgett mansion.
I hadn’t exactly accomplished my mission there earlier in the night, thanks to fake Dean, and every energized cell of me needed to get inside that building, to find out more about Gavin Edgett and the crimes he very well might’ve committed.
And if he had committed them… Let’s just say that he deserved to be driven to the level of insanity that would make him shout out his guilt.
When I swept up to the mansion using the same route I’d used before, it was the darkest part of night. The witching hour lent dead silence to the pool’s blue glow while it competed with the outside security lights around the property.
I did a flyby over the red tile roof and palm trees, then went in to do my business.
Because of my research, I knew even more now about the Edgetts’ Italian Renaissance mansion. Twenty-seven rooms, including six bedrooms, a basement and an attic, and even a wine storage room that’d been used during Prohibition.
Like I said before, money. Lots of it. Enough to cover up a crime and then some.
It wasn’t hard to find a way inside—I just made like Santa and slipped down one of the chimneys, feeling lucky that it wasn’t closed off.
So far, so good.
Mostly, it was dark inside, except for a few dim lights here and there, and I traveled around the house, getting a feel for it: all cream colors, chandeliers, curved staircases, and marble floors. I even indulged myself—can you blame me?—by floating over to one of those wicked seats that Cleopatra would’ve been right at home on while stretched out, eating grapes plucked from trays.
I sighed and shaped myself to the piece of furniture for a few minutes, and when that got old, I meandered down a hallway, into what looked like a game room, with a big wall that resembled a slab of rock with handles poking out of it. Gym equipment was all over the place, too, but it was computerized, like something superhumans from a sci-fi movie would use.
I suspected that Gavin spent more time in this room than anyone, judging by his broad shoulders and solid arms. Or maybe he’d always been strong—enough to grab a woman, drag her to a dark, deserted place, and choke and stab her without getting much of a fight in return.
I got a little grim then. After Amanda Lee had pulled me out of my time loop, she’d told me about what she’d seen during my last moments in Elfin Forest when I’d been confronted by my own killer.
And that hadn’t turned out so well.
I was ready to check out the upper floor, seeking out Gavin’s room, so I went up the grand staircase, hovering in the right-hand hallway.
So quiet, I thought. Everything was that way.
No one in the house had any idea what was coming for Gavin.
I’d never thought of myself as dangerous, but it occurred to me that I actually was as I lingered in that hall. And it made me feel true power for the very first time in my life… or death.
Bolstered, I went to the first door on my left, seeping under the crack between wood and luxurious carpet.
My energy wavered as I took stock of the room: clothes on the floor, the stench of dirty socks, computers on sleek desks, a bank of huge, thin TVs with a leather couch in front of them, posters of dead-eyed rock bands under the slice of light from a partly curtained window.
Even before I saw the scrawny body lying on the king-sized bed with all the covers kicked off, I knew this was the younger brother Noah’s room. The dirty socks had been enough of a clue.
But he wasn’t the one who interested me.
After I slipped out, I came to a door a bit farther down the hall with a hint of light leaking from underneath it. Someone was up.
I waited outside, then heard a muffled voice. A woman.
Farah, Older Sister Socialite Barbie?
She must’ve been talking on her phone, and she didn’t sound too happy with whoever was on the other end of the line. I could only hear garbles from his end.
“Nice, James,” she said. “I thought you could at least have some sympathy because I can’t find Rum Tum Tugger. He never goes far.”
I told myself to remember the name. James. Whoever he was. And I figured that Rum Tum Tugger might’ve been the cat who’d hated me and run off.
“Really?” she said after a pause. “I can’t believe you sometimes. I don’t know whether you love or hate me… .”
She trailed off, then gave in to a surge of emotion.
“Fine. If that’s the way you want it. Good fucking night to you, too, baby.”
I thought she hung up, because she stopped talking and her light went off. Even with the boyfriend drama, she didn’t compel me enough for me to go inside her room.
Where was Gavin?
I continued on my way, passing empty rooms, then deciding to scoot to the other wing.
And… bingo.
There were two closed doors there, both dark around the edges. One of them was sure to be Gavin’s bedroom, if he hadn’t taken off again on one of his business trips.
I chose the room on the right, entering in my usual way, then looking around at what had to be the master suite. I mean, seriously, it was Caesars Palace in here, with marble columns and a long window that stretched from one end of the room to another, the curtains open to reveal a balcony with a view of the ocean.
I saw his dark shape in the bed, the sheets bunched around his bare waist, one thick arm flung over his head. Sleeping like a total babe in the woods.
I’d given lots of thought as to how I’d go about a haunting tonight, so I started off slow… for now. Also, I’d been practicing some of my skills before I left my casita, and I was eager to see how they worked.
I moved toward his bed, taking a moment to look down on him, hovering.
Something in my belly area twisted, because he felt so warm, and all I wanted to do was get some of that warmth into me. But that’s not why I was here.
Subtle, I thought. Start slow.
“Gavin… ,” I breathed.
He didn’t stir, but that was okay. I hadn’t meant to wake him up yet.
“Gavin…”
This time, he turned his face away from me, his even breathing catching on a snag.
I flew around to the other side of the bed, daring to inch closer to him. He smelled of skin and shampoo, but I didn’t let that trip me up.