Page 64 of Criminology of a Character

“Anne’s choice of husband makes sense. Ewan has picked up a few police habits from me, and I’ve learned more about handmade furniture than I care to admit,” Olivia said. “Couples always influence each other, and through Charles, Anne would have the protection of his legal business,hisknowledge, contacts, and experience. No one would question her movements through that world. They would assume it was a byproduct of her marriage. People also rarely suspect trophy wives to be the guilty party, so she’s the perfect Hyde. But…” she emphasized the word. “If Annalise folded the butterflies in Hazel Wyatt’s room, why does Anne have the same nervous habit? And what’s her motive? How does a carefree, wealthy college student become the director of such a dangerous criminal organization?”

“How is a photographer capable of freezing forty-two women?” Bel countered as she pulled into the motel parking lot. “Some people sell their souls to the darkness and never re-emerge.”

“I believe that of Jax Frost, but Anne?” Olivia asked. “Her college friends we interviewed didn’t describe someone who became rich by helping evil escape justice.”

“But she did seem like a girl who’d help those she cared about,” Bel said, a sudden connection popping into her head. “Maybe the island was originally meant to help people. People like Annalise Septwhowere running from monsters. Women who had nowhere else to go, so they came to her, and she remade them. The resort and operations would’ve cost more than the Chamber’s fortune, though, so perhaps she made deals with devils to finance her operation.”

“So, she picked up the origami habit from Annalise?” Olivia wondered aloud. “If you’re right, it would explain why the clinic only kept criminal records. Anne needed insurance for her safety, but she wanted the women she helped to be free. Reconstructive facial surgery takes time to heal from. Maybe she sat with Annalise and listened to her tale of a madman who kidnapped her and how her friend died in a freezer. Of how the police didn’t believe her because she was drugged and without identification when she filed the report. And during her entire recounting, Annalise cried and folded butterflies with her favorite gum wrapper.”

“And Anne eventually picked up the habitto remindherself why she built the clinic.”

“If that’s the case, I almost want her to get away with it,” Olivia said.

“I would too if she didn’t help the likes of Alex Kinley,” Bel said, getting out ofher car. “There are dozens like him, too. Men who murdered innocent people and trapped girls in their basements… Maybe the clinic didn’t start that way. Perhaps she started small, and eventually, the operation grew beyond her control as news of her services spread. But whoever Hyde is, theyhelped monsters escape justice, and someone like that must be stopped.”

“I know,” Olivia said. “How convinced are you that Anne is Hyde? Because your story sounds convincing, but…”

“I have nothing but my gut feelings and my imagination,” Bel finished for her.

“We’ve faced weirder, and I’ll always back you up, but does this feel right to you? You were on that island. Is she Hyde?”

“Yes… maybe. She’s involved somehow. I’m certain of that.”

“Okay. So how will you prove it?”

“I don’t know.” Bel stared at the lackluster motel as the last rays of sun vanished behind the buildings. “Ireallydon’t.”

“What?”Eamon glanced down at the phone as he shaved.

“Nothing.” Bel smirked as she nestled lower into the pillows. She hadn’t expected to spend the night away from home, and she was without luggage, so after she checked into the less-than-stellar motel, she’d found a drugstore and bought herself toiletries, snacks, a three pack of underwear, and a generic graphic tee to sleep in. Despite the accommodations, she’d slept well, but she’d set her alarmso she couldcatch Eamon before he sequestered himself in endless meetings.

He raised his eyebrows at her through their video chat, and she shrugged as a blush stained her cheeks.

“I was just thinking if I were there, I would’ve relieved you of that towel a long time ago.” She dramatically dipped her eyes to where it draped low on his hips, and it wasn’t lost on her that his suite’s bathroom was practically the same size as her entire motel room.

“If you were here, I wouldn’t need a towel.” He winked, and Bel reached out and traced the outline of his image on the screen.

“When will you be home?” she asked. “I miss you.”

“I’m not sure. Things are a mess over here. If I’d known you were planning on roaming about and staying in hotels, I would’ve packed you and Cerberuswith me. I wouldn’t see you often, but at leastI’d knowwhere you were sleeping.” His gaze shifted to the pillows below her. “I’m putting your name on my credit card.”

“Why?” Bel asked. “I have a credit card.”

“Because I leave and you decide to drive all over the country and stay in places like that.”

“I only drove a few hours.” She rolled her eyes. “And I can afford a hotel. I just took myself by surprise yesterday and this was here.”

“I’d feel safer if you had my card when I wasn’t around… for emergencies,” he added when he registered her expression. “Like this.”

“You can give me one, but I won’t use it,” she said.

“I would prefer you did. I’d feel better knowing you had the means to keep yourself safe.”

“I have a gun,” she teased.

“And a knack for spiking my blood pressure. Please, for me. If I give you one, will you promise to use it when you need help?”

“Fine, but only because I’ll agree to anything when you look like that.”

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