Page 56 of Girl, Undone
‘Victims?Whatvictims?’
‘Every victim, Dylan.The ones who used your app before they disappeared, before they were found...’Ella's voice trailed off.‘And then there’s you – a guy who runs when police show up on his doorstep.Don’t pretend you’re not hiding something.’
Dylan scrambled up to a sitting position.Ella still held him by the wrist.He wasn’t going anywhere.
‘I’m telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.I thought this was about my ex… again.’
Ella's grip on the handcuffs loosened slightly.In her career, she had seen the masks of guilt, the veils of deception.Dylan's panic, however, seemed rooted not in guilt, but in genuine ignorance of the horrors linked to his creation.She knew never to take a criminal’s word at face value, but no one – not even a murderous psychopath – was this good of an actor.
‘The past three nights.Where have you been?’
‘Here.I've been here, in this house, working on updates for Scarecrow.I haven't left.’
Ella's eyebrows arched.‘You expect me to believe that?No outings, no late-night strolls?’
‘No, nothing,’ the bloodied man said.‘And I can prove that I haven’t stepped out that front door in days.’
Ella’s stomach fell into an abyss as if gravity had released its hold.If Dylan's claim held truth, then everything she believed was about to crumble beneath her feet.The certainty with which she’d pursued him now seemed like a distant echo in a hall of mirrors.It felt as though the finish line had come into view, only to be pushed back another mile, like she was spending this whole investigation on a treadmill.
Did she have this all wrong?
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
In the sanctum of Dylan Hartley's computer room, the air was alive with the hum and whir of technology.Ten minutes ago, he'd been her prime suspect.Now, if he could prove his innocence, he might just be an ally in a case that kept slipping further from her grasp.Dylan pressed a cloth to his bloodied nose.
Ella, perched on the edge of a chair, watched him intently.
According to Dylan, the truth about why he ran was much simpler than him being guilty of multiple homicides.Monitors lined his desk, and each one displayed different camera feeds.Dylan pulled up the footage from the past five nights and let it play.
Ella leaned forward, scrutinizing every frame.
There he was.Alone in this room.Every night between eight PM and three AM.The timestamp ran continuously with no gaps or jumps.The outside cameras showed the same thing.No one came or went.Dylan Hartley had been in this house the entire time.
Ella's chest tightened.She'd been so sure.
‘You record every room of your house?’Ella glanced up in the corner of the office and saw a blinking camera.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
Dylan smirked, though it looked painful with his broken nose.‘Safety.Security.And for times like this.This isn't my first run-in with the cops.’
Ella looked back at the monitors.‘This footage could be edited.You know that.I'll need our tech team to verify it's legitimate.’
‘Fine.But it's real.That's me, every night, working.’
Ella felt the certainty she'd built over the past twenty-four hours crumble.She'd chased the wrong man.Again.The real killer was still out there, still hunting.
But while she was here, she might as well cover every angle.
‘Dylan, I need you to tell me everything about this app of yours.Whoever is doing this, they're using your app, your creation.You know it better than anyone.Help me catch them.’
Dylan met her eyes.The smirk was gone.‘Then you need to tell me what's going on.If someone's using my platform to hurt people, I need to know.’
She wasn’t supposed to reveal the finer details of ongoing investigations, least of all to potential suspects, but if Ella wanted to dig into the heart of this operation, she needed to be transparent.
‘Three bodies, three nights.All the victims were killed in ways that represented their worst fears.Rats, claustrophobia, fire.All of the victims were members of your app.I found voice notes that one of the victims was sending to… someone.I need to know who these victims were talking to on your app.There has to be a common denominator somewhere.’
