Page 40 of Crazy Rich Monsters (Necessary Evils 1)

“That girl is a sociopath,” she says deadpan, and I almost believe she’s telling the truth. The only problem? All the evidence points to the fact that she’s simply telling me what she thinks I want to hear.

“Then why are you friends with her?”

“That’s in the past. As it turns out, murdering someone isn’t a personality trait that lends itself to the bonds of friendship.”

“Do you think she did it?”

“I don’t think innocent people run, and it doesn’t matter what I believe just as it doesn’t matter whatyoubelieve. I’m always going to care for that girl, but it’s best if I keep my distance.”

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“This isn’t okay though.” She clears her throat and straightens herself out. “You can’t corner a woman in the bathroom and threaten her.”

I pull back, throwing my hands into the air as if to say that I’m not a threat to her. “I just want to have a conversation.”

“Then at least buy me a fucking drink first.” She swats my hand out of the way and rushes out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her on the way out.

I catch my own reflection in the mirror, cocky and so sure of myself. There’s a glimpse of evil too, dark eyes that hover on my own reflection just a little too long. I offer my reflection a knowing wink before exiting the bathroom and making my way back over to the bar.

Paige is already hard at work spending my not so hard-earned cash. She grabs the bartender’s attention with a hook of her finger. “I’ll have another and this time this gentleman is paying.”

I wave at the old man. There’s never a dull moment when I’mwinningand I’m always winning. I reach for my drink–he must have slid it my way while I was harassing Paige in the bathroom–and take a quick drink. “I don’t want to waste your time and I don’t want you to waste mine, so tell me what you know.”

“I can tell you whatever you want, but that depends on the answers you’re looking for.” She takes a short sip of whiskey. “So… what do you want to know?”

“What do you know about the day that Carter died?”

“I don’t really know a lot. As you can imagine, there was the media frenzy surrounding Addison, so we didn’t exactly have privacy to talk. I heard bits and pieces about that day, but nothing ever really added up. I just assumed that she experienced trauma and that affected her ability to recall events. It wasn’t until she told me in confidence, under the magical powers of alcohol, that she wasn’t sorry for what happened.”

That kind of lack of remorse makes me question everything. It’s easy to spot Addison as a cold-blooded killer but after digging underneath the surface for the past few weeks, I’m almost reluctant to believe it. There has to be a piece of the puzzle that I’m missing.

I continue to pry, “What about Emily? Do you know how Addison and she met, or why they became such good friends?”

“They hung out a lot that summer. I’m not exactly sure how that all began but I can admit that I was jealous as hell.” She flashes a warm smile, as if she’s reminiscing on a time when everything wasn’t so fucked up. “It felt like I was losing my best friend and I didn’t understand why. I’m far enough removed from the emotional turmoil of being a teenager to understand that we drifted apart for reasons that had nothing to do with me.”

“Why do you believe that Addison killed Carter when we all heard the testimony from both Addison and Emily?”

“Right after the accident, those two girls remained thick as thieves. To people that didn’t know Addison, they could have been mistaken for being sisters.”

She’s getting too far off topic, so I rein her in, directing her where I need her to go. “The official story is that some man in a ski mask attacked Carter at our house while Addison and Carter were drinking. Addison fought the man off and then attempted to rush Carter to the hospital. She would then wreck the car, leaving Carter to die in the fiery blaze. Emily would later corroborate Addison’s story, thusly stamping Addison’s ticket to freedom. The would-be attacker was never found.”

“More importantly, why did the police stop looking?” She clinks her glass against mine. “That’s the mystery you need to solve because I think when you figure that out, you’ll have all the answers you need.”

I cock my head sideways, not understanding what she’s trying to say. “Do you think Addison paid the police off?”

“You’re pretty,” she scoffs. “Pretty but incredibly stupid. Neither Addison nor her mother had the means to pay the police off. There’s something else there, something underneath the surface. I won’t pretend to know what that is, but I’ve answered your questions and you’re free to leave me the hell alone now.”

“One more question.”

She turns to me fully.

“Just entertain me with a possible theory. Without regard for the actual truth, tell me what you believe happened that day.”

She reaches for her drink and downs the remainder of it. She pounds the empty glass against the hard surface of the bar and wipes the whiskey from pouted lips. “Addison killed Carter and she got away with it, that makes her a sociopath but she’s no monster. Assuming my theory is correct, there was never another man at the house that day. It was Addison that stuck the knife into Carter’s stomach, but she didn’t do that without reason. She wouldn’t have killed him in cold blood just because she could. The only way she would have done that is because she thought she needed to. I know you weren’t around much when we were all kids, but your brother was a fucking prick.”

“Yeah, I don’t need to be reminded of that.” I slap a hundred-dollar bill onto the bar as I rise to my feet. “The justified punishment for being an asshole is a good old-fashioned ass beating, not a knife in the gut.”

And then I’m gone, leaving the bar in a leisurely silence as the wheels in my mind spin. Paige brings up a very good point. Why did the police completely give up in trying to find the man in the ski mask if they believed Addison to be innocent? Something isn’t adding up and if someone doesn’t spill the beans soon, I just might chain up Emily and Addison in the basement and force them to tell the truth.

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