Page 129 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

Planting the switchblade on Brewster is one step further to tie him to Ericson’s murder, putting the final nail in the coffin. Grayson punishes a seedy, murdering criminal, and the detectives have a closed case on both sides.

“Grayson will expect a move like this from you,” Blakely says, folding her arms on the table.

I close the laptop. “But not from you.” I reach into my rucksack and remove the microchip she discovered in Dr. Noble’s business card. “It’s not a listening device. It’s a tracker. Any reason you can think of why Dr. Noble would want to keep tabs on your whereabouts?”

She begins to shake her head and stops abruptly, her dark eyebrows knitting in thought. “London seemed to think you would find me,” she says. “Maybe it was a way to keep tabs on you.”

Possibly. But Grayson had no issues tracking me down, and here I am, right in the same place where he left me. My own deduction is that Grayson has every intention of disposing of me when the countdown is over. He’s aware of my feelings for Blakely, and he can assume I’ll try to hide her before that happens.

He also took my USB drive and the remaining vials of my compound that, to a psycho killer who mocks a cure, holds no interest for him. But maybe it interests Dr. Noble. Killing Blakely might not be their endgame.

I keep this theory to myself for now, and lay the chip on the table. “Did you pack a bag?”

“I got everything I needed from my place,” she confirms.

I made sure Blakely cleared out her apartment of anything important yesterday while I analyzed the chip and did the groundwork for Brewster. Five days to frame two people for murder leaves no margin for error. We can’t lose any opportunity that may present because one of us isn’t prepared. Even to run.

Besides, Blakely staying with me has added benefits.

“But you didn’t comment on my answer,” she says. “Which means you have your own secret theories as to why London bugged me.”

I steeple my fingers together and hold her inquisitive gaze. “I think there was something said in your meeting with Dr. Noble that sparked her interest.” I can’t give her more than that.

She rises from the stool and walks to the factory window to peer out. After a lengthy beat, she says, “London did mention something strange during our conversation.” She turns to look at me. “About Mary.”

My sister garners my complete attention. I stand and push my hands into my pockets, suppressing the urge to check the time. “And what was that?”

“Just that, during a session, Grayson told her where Mary disposed of the bodies of her victims. Not the exact location. But I knew where.”

Alarm shoots through my bloodstream, ice-cold. “Was that all that was discussed.” My voice is gravel. A demand, not a question.

“I found the bones, Alex,” she says. “When I escaped the fire, I fell right into them.” She holds up her hand, revealing a red scar on the heel of her palm. “Are the remains your subjects? Your sister’s victims? Or both? Because I think Grayson is very thorough when it comes to learning all the pertinent details of the victims he stalks, don’t you? Like where they bury the people they murder.”

As she lowers her hand, I look away.

Goddammit.

Without thought, I drive my bandaged hand through my hair, and a throb of pain comes alive. I walk toward the other side of the room. I need a moment to think, to process. There are always complications. This doesn’t have to change the plan.

“Are you going to answer me?” Blakely makes her own demand.

I turn to her, deciding the answer she needs can’t be sourced from her series of questions. “What do you want to know?”

She blinks, then tucks her hair behind her ears, suddenly looking so endearing, I can’t deny her anything. “Whose bones are buried near the river, Alex?”

Inhaling a fortifying breath, I lift my chin. “Mary put her patients there,” I answer her honestly. “And I added to the graves.”

Her lips thin as she presses them together in thought. “If we get rid of Grayson first—”

“No.” I wave a hand dismissively. “If he knows the location, he already has a failsafe in place to expose the bodies.” I know this, because it’s exactly what I would do. Leverage. Even if I’m giving him too much credit and no one is alerted once Grayson disappears for good, it’s a risk I can’t chance.

I failed my sister once.

I can’t have her name splashed across the media again as the remains of victims are unearthed.

The faintsnickof a ticking clock drifts to my ears. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Blakely says, and I catch her wary gaze.

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