Page 29 of The Perfect Deception

“Why would I watch the news? It’s all depressing as fuck and I have to work.” He’s shaking his head vehemently at this point. “I didn’t do shit to anybody. Ever.”

“Okay.” I lean against the counter just a few feet away from him. “Let’s say I believe you, Zeke. Tell me why someone would want these guys dead and don’t tell me you don’t know. Hope House wasn’t that big. You know something.”

“I don’t,” he insists, but he’s unable to maintain eye contact.

“You believe this shit?” I ask Jay, putting on a show to fuck with Zeke.

Jay shakes his head. “Not even a little bit.” He makes a big show of pushing off the sofa with a grunt. “But if he’s not the killer, then that’s good news for him.”

“Unless he knows why these guys were all murdered,” I add. “Or maybe the killer just thinks he knows or is involved.”

“I’m not involved in anything! I work from home, and I spend most of my time here other than the occasional gaming convention, okay?” His chest is heaving and sweat beads around his hairline. “I don’t know anything, and I’ve worked really fucking hard to forget that time in my life.”

“And I wonder why that is?” I ask sarcastically.

“Can you leave? Please?”

I shrug even though the last thing I want to do is leave. “If you think of anything you’d like to share, feel free to give us a call.” I leave my business card on his countertop as Jay and I make our way to the front door.

I stop at the door and turn to look at Zeke. “You better hope, for your sake, that you don’t know anything. What this killer is doing to your old friends? It ain’t pretty.” With those parting words, Jay and I leave.

“You think he’ll call?”

I shrug. “He knows something, which makes me think he might have some clue who’s doing this or why. Maybe both.” His fear is palpable, and that kind of fear only comes from knowing the boogeyman is real. “We should see if we can catch up with the other two names, Laurel Kinney and Brittany Johns. If we can’t get anything from them, we should swing back here before we call it quits today.”

“Well, I definitely need more coffee before we dig into more group home horror stories. Beans & Things?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Damien

“Don’t be nervous.” I whisper the command in Frankie’s ear as we stand on the red carpet while all the city’s glitterati snaps photos of us, shouting questions to me about my lovely companion.

“Easy for you to say,” she mumbles under her breath, still smiling. “They love you and you’ve done this before.”

I turn to her and say, “You look gorgeous tonight, Francesca. Turquoise is definitely your color, and that split is doing wild things to my imagination.”

That pulls a soft smile from her. “Thank you, Damien.”

“No,” I lean forward. “Thank you for agreeing to come tonight.” I brush a soft kiss against her lips and I’m sure it’s a photo that’s going to garner some attention. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Same.”

The dreamy look in her eyes, mixed with the warm affection she beams at me, isn’t just intoxicating—it’s addictive as hell. Butit’s also unsettling because I like that look she gives me, like she believes I’m a good guy. Like she sees me and truly appreciates me. I never expected this when I started down this path.

The plan was simple: get her to fall for me, distract her from chasing the killer, and then decimate her world.

Now, though, I can’t shake the feeling that she might decimate mine instead.

This part is entirely unexpected, and I find myself doubting both myself and my plan. The evidence is hard to ignore. She’s still at my penthouse when she doesn’t have to be. She’s here because I want her here. I don’t need to roll out the red carpet tonight, but I do it anyway, because the way she looks at me is irresistible.

“You’re causing a scene,” she whispers against my lips.

“It’s you and that damn dress.” It’s gorgeous, even more stunning on her than I imagined when I had it sent to the penthouse along with all the essential accessories.

“Thank you for the dress,” she smiles up at me, wiping a bit of gloss from my lips while cameras snap our every move. “It wasn’t necessary, but it’s stunning.”

“You’re stunning in it.”

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