Page 58 of Girl, Haunted

A fresh sob threatened to bubble up as Amanda poured the words out. ‘No. Everything’s all wrong. I caught Gary messaging someone else, says he’s in love with her. We got into a fight, and…’ she pointed to a bruise below her eye.

‘I see.’ The old ‘husband’s a dirty cheater,’ routine. Cassius suppressed a sigh. How depressingly mundane.

‘Twenty-two years of marriage and the bastard trades me in for a newer model, then hits me.’

Cassius watched her shoulders heave, strangely detached from her display of emotion. He wondered if he should offer her a tissue. That's what people did, wasn't it? In situations like these?

Shannon babbled on, oblivious to his wandering thoughts. ‘I couldn’t stay with him. He demanded I stay, that she meant nothing, but I had to get out. Somewhere.’ She sucked in a shuddering breath. ‘I was driving around, saw your light on. I hoped... maybe I could...’

Cassius scanned the street, half-expecting there to be a camera crew filming this bizarre interaction. Maybe the cops were onto him and this was all part of an elaborate scheme to elicit a confession.

But the street was empty, as it always was this time of night.

‘You don’t have any family? Friends?’

‘No. Not around here, anyway. God, I'm such an idiot. I'll go. I'm sorry to bother you.’

Then an idea sparked in the back of Cassius's mind; a sudden flash, like a match struck in the dark. The haunts were closed tonight, true. But perhaps there were other adventures to be had. After all, his best work had come from seizing an unexpected opportunity.

Amanda turned to leave. Cassius’s hand shot out and caught her wrist. Amanda looked back at him, startled.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Don't go. You shouldn't be alone right now.’

Relief flooded Amanda's face. ‘Really? You don't mind?’

Cassius smiled. ‘Of course not. What are friends for?’

‘Oh God. I’d be so grateful. I just need a little time to get my head together, maybe crash until I can find somewhere to stay for the long haul.’

‘You know, I was about to go for a drive somewhere, just to pick something up. Would you like to join?’

Amanda looked up and down the street. ‘Where were you headed?’

‘Nowhere important. I find that driving helps take my mind off things, so maybe it will help you. We should probably report your husband to the police, too.’

‘Okay, then we can go indoors? I’m just a little worried about Gary finding me.’

‘Yes, of course, just let me grab my things.’ Cassius retrieved his car keys from the hook by the door, then snagged a small duffel bag propped in the corner. He stepped out and shut the door behind him. ‘Shall we?’

‘Sure. Lead the way, and thank you for this. I don’t really have anyone else to call on.’

The night air was crisp. A perfect night for spinning yarns and sowing nightmares. The haunted houses might be closed,but that didn't mean the show had to stop. After all, the best stories were the ones that caught you off guard.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

According to every database Ella had access to, Cassius Auctor didn't exist.

She'd scoured every nook and cranny of the digital world; turned over every virtual rock. Nothing. The guy was a ghost – or more likely, a phantom conjured up by her unsub’s imagination.

Ella's eyes burned from staring at the screen. She blinked hard; felt like her eyeballs were covered in sandpaper. A glance at the clock told her it was 9:20PM. The precinct had gone quiet hours ago, leaving just her and Luca burning the midnight oil.

She glanced over at her partner, who was frowning at his laptop like it had insulted his mother. He'd been combing through Carter's videos for the past two hours, searching for any hint of the creepy mask.

‘Don't we have tech experts for this kind of stuff?’ he asked.

Ella snorted. ‘Tech experts to search YouTube videos for a mask? No dice, Hawkins. We're the tech experts today.’

Luca huffed and chugged his coffee like it held the secret to eternal life. The bags under his eyes had bags. ‘I’m worried, Ell. I'm starting to think this shutdown might bite us in the ass. What if we've lost our killer for good?’

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