Page 28 of Autopsy of a Fairytale

“Yeah.” Bel laughed as her partner rushed to the bathroom. She hoped getting involved with a coworker wasn’t a bad idea. She hoped getting involved with anyone wasn’t a bad idea. Her sisters found romance easy, but in her line of work, she had seen too many domestic fights turn ugly, too many marriages sour because of the job. Her parents had been the exception. Their passion never faltered. Even years after her mother made her father a widower, he still loved her with every cell in his heart. It was another reason love terrified her. Even if it worked, even if it was beautiful, it might still end in suffering.

The shower switched on, and Bel wandered around the living room. She sat on the couch for a full five seconds before anxiety pushed her back to her feet. She paced the carpet, pausing long enough to scan his abysmally small bookshelf before moving to the narrow hallway that led to the rear of the apartment. Family photos lined the walls, and she studied each version of Garrett as she walked, smiling at the images of him as a child, his curly brown hair as captivating then as it was now. She was almost sad when her toes hit the hall’s end, alerting her to the conclusion of the photo history. The shower still ran, and Bel peaked into his bedroom. She shouldn’t go inside. She shouldn’t snoop, but the investigator in her won out. She wouldn’t peek in any drawers or invade his privacy. She would just look, doubting he would be mad. He had left the door wide open.

Justifying her curiosity, Bel scanned Garrett’s room. It was clean and organized, like the rest of his apartment, with dark grey bedding and matching dressers. Atop one of them stood an opened jewelry box of sorts, and Bel drifted toward it. A cluttering of cuff links, watches, and jewelry lay inside. Some rings were decidedly masculine, but a few were elegantly studded with jewels. She plucked a delicate gold band with an emerald stone from its hiding spot and experimentally slipped it on her finger. It was beautiful, and she guessed the more feminine pieces were family heirlooms.

Bel wiggled the ring off her finger and placed it back where she found it, deciding she should stop snooping before Garrett caught her. She twisted to leave when something buried among the watches and necklaces captured her attention. Bel froze, every muscle in her body going deathly still. It couldn’t be. It had to be her mind playing tricks. With a suddenly dry mouth, she scanned the jewelry with a more attentive eye, picking through the gold and silver—

Her eyes snagged on a second object, and she felt sick. Her stomach threatened to heave itself onto the floor, and her head spun.No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Her brain wouldn’t stop repeating her denial.It wasn’t. He couldn’t.Most killers took souvenirs. Most liked a reminder of their conquests, and it seemed Garrett was no different.

So caught up with the discovery terrorizing her eyes, Bel didn’t hear the shower turn off or the bathroom door open. She didn’t notice the heavy footfalls thudding toward her. She was blind to all but that jewelry box. Deaf to all but her racing heart, she never heard his weight settle behind her.

“Bel?” Garrett’s tone was ice. “What are you doing in here?”

Bel froze,fingers flinching for her hip, but her gun wasn’t there. She was alone, cornered against the wall without a weapon. Panic ripped its way up her throat with razor-sharp claws, choking her on its bile. Stupid. She had been so, so stupid.

“It was you,” she croaked, her back still turned to Garrett as she stared at the damning evidence before her. His bloody souvenirs. A delicately carved wooden leaf spotting a few drops of dried blood rested under a watch band… the same kind that had been sculpted into Brett Lumen’s death chandelier. Scattered throughout the jewelry box were whole coffee beans coated in dried blood, and to complete the ensemble, a single ivory piano key lay nestled beneath a twisted metal chain, it too splattered in old blood… blood Bel would stake her life on that belonged to Lumen, Kaffe, and Legat.

“It was you.” Her voice shook.

“What are you talking about?” Garrett stepped forward, and Bel whirled on the balls of her feet, jerking away from him until her hips hit the dresser.

“You killed them. It’s been you this whole time.” Tears welled in her eyes. This man was her partner, her friend. She had kissed him. “It makes sense.” The words poured from her mouth as the puzzle pieces clicked together in her brain. She should run. She should escape and call Griffin, but all she could do was grip the dresser, rage and fear and betrayal spilling from her lips.

“There was no evidence.” Her chest heaved. If she didn’t get herself under control soon, she would start hyperventilating. “We found nothing because the murderer is a cop who anticipated what we would look for.”

“What are you talking about?” Garrett’s normally kind eyes hardened.

“You, Garrett!” Bel practically screamed. “It was you this whole time! You killed them, and I’ve been working alongside you with no idea.” She swore, a tear escaping to trail a line down her cheek. “We had wondered if the killer had a law enforcement or medical background, and as a detective, you certainly know how to cover your tracks.”

“Bel—”

“Is that why you had me take lead on this case?” she interrupted. “You didn’t want to investigate yourself? Leave it to poor, damaged Isobel Emerson, whose anxiety won’t let her see what is right in front of her face.”

“Bel—”

“Were you aware Brett had turned off his cameras? Is that why you started with him? And Emily asked you for help with her security system. How easy it would have been for you to tamper with her feed. Plus, you’ve been a cop in this town long enough to learn Legat didn’t have a security system.”

“Bel, what are you talking about?” Garret lunged forward, grabbing her biceps, and she flinched, slamming the heels of her palms against his chest.

“The souvenirs, Garrett!” She pointed to the jewelry box as he stumbled backward. “Most killers keep a memento, and you just couldn’t help yourself. What did you do with the blood, Garrett? What did you do with the hearts?”

“What souvenirs?” He looked genuinely confused as he pushed forward to peer into the jewelry box, but the moment his eyes landed on the bloody objects, his face paled.

“You thought they would be safe here? That no one would come snooping through your things?” Bel slowly started inching toward the hallway while her partner stared transfixed. “Not a drop of blood at the scenes, yet you saved a few drops for yourself. What did you do with it, Garrett?”

“I…” He turned around, noticing how close to the door she stood, and his jaw set in a harsh line. “Bel?”

“You have everyone fooled.” She was practically shouting as she inched backward. “This entire town thinks you are this Prince Charming. I thought you were Prince Charming.” Tears flooded her vision, and as her heels crossed the bedroom threshold, Garrett stepped for her like a wolf stalking its prey. “I trusted you!” She should shut up. She should run. “I let you in. You were my friend.”

“Bel, stop moving.”

“I trusted you, and you’re a monster! Why, Garrett? Why kill them?”

“I didn’t kill anyone.” He stalked closer. Too close.

“Don’t lie to me. I know what I saw.”

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