Chapter 22
Carter
Carter woke to an email from Ranielle granting permission to film an exclusive studio tour. At least Ranielle recognized that Carter had some influence over the fandom. Or maybe it was to smooth over any unpleasantness from the freezer fiasco.
It would have been a major honor when Carter had first proposed the tour a week ago, but now she was in no hurry to set foot inside the place where Alicia Angelos had been stuffed into a prop.
It had been horrifying enough when she thought the killer was Sierra, but at least then she could play nice and try to stay on her good side.
If Sierra was innocent, that meant the killer could be anyone.
Even Fitzy—Sierra’s top suspect.
Carter couldn’t picture it. He was too . . . Fitzy.
While they were recovering from the freezer incident yesterday, she had made the team watch a recording of the livestream Fitzy had filmed the night Alicia disappeared—the whole two hours of it.
She’d seen it before, but back then she hadn’t fully appreciated how good he looked in that pale blue shirt, buttons open to reveal some surfer-boy shark tooth pendant, hair tousled to give a windswept look.
He was patiently answering fans’ questions for the entirety of the time-of-death window and then some.
He’d only gotten up from his sofa once, to make popcorn in his kitchen microwave as he continued to read comments and make jokes.
His alibi was solid. Even Sierra reluctantly admitted it.
But there were hundreds of people working on this show, and they didn’t have anywhere near as airtight an alibi.
Carter’s thoughts spiraled, always coming back to the masked assailant who had locked them inside a freezer. She wanted to believe it was an act of sabotage—someone trying to throw them off their game.
Now she wasn’t so sure.
It turned out they should’ve contacted emergency services in the first place. After Vera arrived, paramedics had been called. Parents had been notified. Carter had needed a heated intravenous saltwater solution to warm her body. They could have died.
Maybe that had been the point.
Carter’s parents had asked her to quit the show, a suggestion that would have tempted her that first day on set. But no way was she leaving now. Sierra needed her. The team needed her.
But their time might be limited. After the studio tour, Carter would head straight to the elimination round.
There was a good chance they would be packing their bags and heading home.
Well . . . not home, exactly. Eliminated teams were checked in to a hotel to wait until Sunday—a way for the producers to ensure no spoilers were leaked.
When the studio came into view, her insides clenched and she almost asked the driver to take her back to the villas.
But no. She was Kick It Carter, the Domain’s highest-ranking Solve Specialist. She had been granted exclusive access to the studio—a privilege never offered to any other Clue Master. She could do this. She had to do this.
She climbed out of the car, trying to convince herself that she was in no danger. The studio would have cameras, other people around. She was safe here.
The receptionist finished signing her in as Vera stalked into the lobby. Carter tensed. She had promised herself that the first chance she got, she would tell Vera how grateful she was—they all were— that she had come to their aid.
But Vera spoke first. “Why did they ask you to do this instead of me?”
“Um. I . . . I don’t know.” Carter scrunched her shoulders by her ears. “Listen, I wanted to say—”
Vera held up a hand. “Not interested in how four teens who are supposedly geniuses got themselves locked in a freezer. I want to know why Ranielle thinks it’s okay for an overrated influencer to film a studio tour when I’ve been suggesting it for the last two years.”
Overrated?
Every ounce of gratitude evaporated.
“I guess she thought I’d do a good job with it,” Carter said coolly.
Vera stepped closer. Carter couldn’t help backing away, even though Vera was a couple of inches shorter than her. “Do not mess with me, Carter Kelly. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
Carter’s brain was scrambling for some sort of response when a voice called out in an Australian accent, “Vee, there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Vera growled—literally growled—as she spun to face Fitzy. “What?”
“Whoa, down, girl,” said Fitzy, raising his hands.
“I was talking with Ranielle. She wants you to make a series of countdown reels for the fortune teller room. You know, bonus content, maybe reaching out to the actress in the crystal ball video and stuff. And . . . there was something else.” He thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers.
“Right! She wants tarot-themed posts, where viewers get randomly selected cards with fortunes tied to them.”
Vera gaped at him for a long moment before exploding. “You can’t be serious! I already have this week’s posts scheduled. I don’t have time for any of that!”
“You could talk to Ranielle, but she stepped out for a coffee date with one of the Hitflix execs, and then she’ll be up to her ears getting ready for the elimination. Probably best not to procrastinate too long, yeah?”
With a guttural scream, Vera marched away.
“Wow,” breathed Carter. “I didn’t realize her job was so intense.”
Fitzy grinned. “Please. I made all that up. It’ll keep her out of your hair while you film your studio tour. And honestly, she shouldn’t be talking to you that way.”
A giddy laugh climbed out of Carter’s throat. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He offered an arm. “Shall we get started?”
Carter looked from the creased linen of his sleeve to his dimples. “Are you . . . ?”
“Joining you? Of course I am. Wouldn’t be much of a tour without a professional host, would it?”
“Wow. My subscribers are going to flip.”
“Well, my agent’s always telling me I need to step up my social media game.” He shrugged self-consciously. “He’s got much bigger celebrities to worry about than me, so when he gives advice, I try to listen. Are you ready?”
Carter found herself smiling. Five minutes ago she wouldn’t have been able to answer that question with anything positive.
Now?
“Yeah. I am.” She held up her phone. Fitzy squeezed in close.
She summoned her brightest smile and hit record.
“Hey, gang, I’m Kick It Carter, and I have a surprise for you.
Today, I’ve been given exclusive access behind the scenes of the Escape Game studio, and as you can see, I’m joined by a very special guest.”
“’Ello,’ ello,” said Fitzy. “Welcome to my little home away from home. Can’t wait to show you what it’s really like on set. You ready, Carter?”
Her insides fluttered. Her name, that accent . . . “Lead the way.”
With Fitzy taking control, the video was infinitely better than anything she could have recorded on her own.
He took her through the greenrooms, the costume closet, even the editing suites, where Carter overheard someone ranting about “those horoscope letters— what was Louis thinking? We can’t air that! ”
On Soundstage A, Fitzy walked her through the chemistry lab and talked about how they’d consulted with chemists to concoct a formula that would glow once the four correct liquids were combined.
On Soundstage B, Carter got to properly take in the details of the fortune teller’s tent.
With the lights on full power, the set was less mystical than before—the curtains and tablecloth were cheap fabric, and the crystal ball was just plastic with a projector inside. Funny how real it had felt at the time.
“What do you think about taking a peek at the finale room?” Fitzy said, waggling his eyebrows as they exited through the carved Hermit door.
Carter’s pulse jumped. She stared across the corridor at the large closed doors of Soundstage E. She could hear the thumps of nail guns, the grind of table saws. Her thoughts skipped back to the post on the Domain.
1:13 p. m.: Body discovered in studio prop . . .
“Is that where she was found?” she whispered.
For a moment, she forgot that she was filming.
But then Fitzy’s smile slipped and his gaze darted to the phone, which was now aimed at some random utility cart.
Carter quickly realigned it. “Sorry. I was . . . There’s been a lot of talk lately. On the Domain . . .”
“No, it’s good. The producers want to pretend nothing happened, but . . . it did.” Distress crept into his tone, reminding Carter it wasn’t just Sierra and her team on the set that day. Fitzy had seen the body, too. It must’ve been awful.
“A lot of people think the post on the Domain is a hoax,” Carter murmured. “A publicity stunt.”
Fitzy grimaced. “Ranielle was not happy about it. She’s ordered the webmaster to take it down, but every time they try, it keeps getting put back up.”
“So it’s not a publicity stunt?”
“If it is, I’m not in on the joke.” A heady silence hung between them.
Carter looked apologetically at the screen. “Whew, that got a lot darker than I’d intended.” She shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. “I won’t be looking in the finale room today. Hopefully, my team will last long enough to tackle it together in a few weeks.”
“You will,” said Fitzy. “I believe in you.”
Carter wished she had his confidence. With the elimination mere hours away, fear was beginning to gnaw at her that they wouldn’t be continuing. “I bet you say that to all the contestants.”
“No,” Fitzy said. “I definitely don’t.” They made eye contact, and Carter’s pulse fluttered. “Hey, let me ask you a question. What’s your favorite thing about being on the show?”
It took a moment to register his question. Not that long ago, she would’ve said that her favorite thing was getting into the rhythm of the room, absorbed in solving the puzzles. But now?
“The people,” she said. “It’s so nice being around others who are as obsessed with escape rooms as I am. I feel like I’ve really started to click with my team.”