Page 72 of Wicked Riddles & Bitter Heartbeats

This could all be bullshit, just part of his cover story. Just more to get me to confess. But he doesn’t have to keep going. Wouldn’t this be enough to bad me? Honestly, I don’t know, and I don’t care either.

Deep in my gut, it feels like my brother is telling the truth, and so I want to hear more.

“That’s when we moved here,” he says, glancing at me. “It wasn’t my choice to come here, it was hers. Maybe she knew it’s where you were?”

I grit my teeth, not allowing those thoughts into my head. Not once did I consider she looked for me after the fact, and I don’t need those thoughts fucking with me. So I give a slight shake of my head. James seems to understand and he continues.

“Mom took all the money he had, and we came to Boston. Life didn’t change much, until she died. I’d killed a handful of people before I went to the academy. I assumed after she died, my urges would stop. I was sure they were only there because of her. After all, everyone I killed was because of her. But then I saw things. Murderers. Rapists. Traffickers. I watched as they got away with the awful things they did. I saw a crooked system. I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

His jaw works as he stares at Frank with the same amount of hatred that’s burning in my chest.

“The first time I met Frank was at a conference about five years back. I knew there was something off about him the moment I saw him. After seeing these people for years, after witnessing so much bullshit, you just… know the bad guys. And he was a bad guy. So, I looked into him. I had no proof, but I was sure he was a pedophile. Fucking sure of it. But I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Does this prove he’s being truthful? Or does him knowing about the fucked up shit Frank Spencer did just mean the system is more crooked than we know? That cops know others are doing fucked up shit and they look the other way?

“Because of who he was,” I add, needing more information. I need to hear everything he has to say.

James nods, looking over at me. “He was untouchable.”

I smirk. “Clearly not.”

“How did you get him here?”

I think on that for a moment. I will not tell him about Lilah. Not yet. Though his story is believable, I won’t risk Lilah. It’s too soon. I don’t trust James yet.

“Someone I know was a victim.”

James' eyes widen. “You’re serious?”

I nod. “She lured him here for me.”

“You’re going to kill him.”

“I am going to kill him,” I state. “Iwasgoing to pin it on you, but…” I watch him carefully before saying, “How do I know you aren’t lying to me? How do I know you aren’t wearing a wire or a camera?”

“You don’t. I guess you just have to trust me.”

He turns to face me fully, his eyes that are so much like mine flicker with excitement. Something in my chest gets a little tight. I want to believe him. But is that getting in the way of my instincts? I’ve always listened to my gut. But tonight, I’m not so sure I should.

“I’ll trust you if you kill him,” I say.

“I didn’t bring any of my things.”

“Improvise.”

His gaze goes to the duffel bag on the floor. With a nod, he walks over to it and digs through it. When he straightens, it’s the hammer in his hand.

“This will work,” he says, tapping the head onto his open palm.

“How do you normally do it?” I ask, clasping my hands together behind my back and walking to my brother’s side.

“Strangulation. You?”

I shrug. “Whatever feels right.”

“These recent killings weren’t your first.”

I shake my head. “Not even close.”

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