Page 53 of Just Hide

So, to check that, she needed to go into the staff records for Wave Management, see who’d been on duty on the night that the camera was moved, and search every one of those faces instead. If she did that, she might pick up if there was any likeness, any similarity to this one.

It seemed to be her last chance. It didn’t seem like a great idea, but at least it was something she could try while she waited for the databases. Crazy ideas were always worth exploring, weren’t they?

Thinking this represented a possible solution, she went ahead with the search.

And when she saw what it produced, she let out a horrified gasp.

CHAPTER THIRTY

"No!" Cami breathed out the word, feeling her skin prickle into goose bumps. Now, she saw the bigger picture. At last, in one breathless moment, all the pieces of this strange and enigmatic puzzle were slotting perfectly into place.

Here was the face she needed, among the Wave Management staff that had been working that night.

It was identical—but yet, it wasn’t.

She could see the similarities with her own human eyes and brain. But the differences were so vast that the software, programmed to pick up certain finely tuned parameters, had ignored it.

This face was hideously scarred. One cheekbone was pure scar tissue. The mouth was twisted, one eye half closed. The hairline on the right had changed, blasted an inch further back by an annihilation zone of dead, scarred skin.

Cami stared at it with her heart pounding. Finally, the face had a name.

Teresa Ashford. She was a night janitor at Wave Management and had been for exactly three months. Again, with Connor's voice resonating in her mind, Cami thought this timeframe was important.

What had happened to her? How had she ended up this way? Needing to know, feeling anxious, her mind buzzing with questions, Cami did a search.

"Heiress Narrowly Escapes Death in Car Inferno," the headline blazed. Reading on, feeling horribly riveted, Cami learned that Teresa had been a wild child at the age of twenty-two, a trust fund kid who hadn’t needed to work and who’d partied hard. Drugs, alcohol, drunken driving, and crazy partying had all played a part in the terrible crash that had destroyed her life two years ago. Way over the drunk driving limit, she'd grabbed her car keys out of the hand of the restaurant manager who had tried his best to stop her from driving and had punched him in the nose. She'd deliberately knocked over a shelf of glassware and ripped her nails across the face of a patron who'd grabbed her arm.

She'd stormed to her car and set off at a speed where a crash was not just likely, but it was inevitable. And luckily for her, it had been a one car accident. In her Porsche, she'd been the only victim when it had rolled and caught alight.

She'd escaped with her life, and her injuries, although serious, had been limited to a broken arm and the third-degree burns to her face and neck. Cami guessed those had taken a while to heal, and during that time, Teresa must have learned about Wave Management.

She must have hated herself. Cami couldn't help feeling empathy for what it must have felt like for her to look in the mirror after recovering from that terrible ordeal. But instead of seeking to heal herself, Teresa had joined Wave Management and used the company's software to identify and murder victims in her likeness.

Dog in the manger taken to extremes,Cami thought with a chill. If I can't have my beauty, you won't either.

She'd done it in a cunning and convoluted way. She'd been clever and careful. This had been brilliantly planned, and she'd covered her tracks with care.

Now, there was only one more question Cami had, and it was an important one. In fact, a very urgent one that she should have asked sooner if she'd only known or guessed.

Was Teresa working here tonight? Because if she was, Cami needed to get out, and fast. She'd come here on her own. She was unarmed. She was a sitting duck to be taken down by this woman.

Now feeling fright surge inside her, Cami yanked the laptop out of the plug point, stuffed it in the bag, and crammed her phone into her pocket. She wasn't going to wait around any longer. There wasn't time. She was going to assume that Teresa was here, and she was going to get the hell out, go back to the police station, and tell Connor what she'd found.

But then, from down the corridor, Cami heard the light, quick sound of footsteps approaching the door.

With a sense of dread, Cami froze. She backed away, trying to get out of sight of the half open door, her heart jackhammering. She didn't make a sound. She kept her breathing shallow.

And then the door swung wider, slamming back against the wall, and she was there.

There she stood, the woman herself, with her scarred face and her anonymous clothing, jeans and a dark top like everyone else wore. She'd been carrying a bucket, a mop, and a crumpled trash bag, but she threw aside the bucket and mop as if she no longer needed them.

Her face was set in a snarl of anger. That wasn’t the scar tissue pulling it that way. It was her own character showing through, Cami thought.

"I thought I might find you here," she said. She stepped toward Cami, and in her hand, through the folds of black plastic, Cami picked up the gleam of metal. This woman was holding a knife. She closed the distance between them with swift, assured steps. In that moment, Cami knew it was coming. She was going to be murdered.

The doorway was directly behind this woman. There was nowhere to run. She was trapped. That knife was lethally sharp, and Teresa was going to use it.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

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