Chapter 32
December 2nd, 1984
Deadwood, Oregon
Lane County Security Hospital
7:13 p.m.
The sky beyond the window was dark now. The hands of the clock had crept forward, and Cass wasn’t sure when she’d stopped watching them. She’d been sitting in the hard chair so long that parts of her were numb. Not her throat, though. Cass hadn’t done this much talking in weeks, no, months, and she was already feeling the effects. By the time Cass finished recounting Professor Clemens’s terrible death, her voice had developed a rough edge, as well.
“And that brings us to now,” she concluded, leaning back in the chair. Some of the tension eased from Cass’s shoulders as she realized they were almost done now. In a minute or two, she’d be out that door, and she would never come back to this horrible place again. Cal, who hadn’t moved from his place at her side, remained stiff and alert.
Patrick Doyle’s eyes gleamed. “So it does.”
Cass paused, waiting for him to go on. This was the part where he told her about Ricky and Michael, right? She knew taking the word of a serial killer wasn’t exactly the smartest thing she’d ever done, but when this bizarre conversation began, Cass hadn’t been able to shake the sense that Patrick honored the deals he made. He was all about acting the part of a good guy, and good guys kept their promises.
But now he just sat there silently, and he looked at her with a strange smile hovering at the corners of his thin lips. Impatience burst through Cass like fireworks.
“Well?” she prodded.
Just as Patrick started to answer, voices echoed down the corridor, and Cass’s head jerked to the side. No, she thought wildly. They couldn’t kick her out now. She was so goddamn close!
A moment later, the door opened, and Sinister Gray walked in.
Cass’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” she blurted.
Behind her, Cal muttered something that sounded suspiciously like thank god.
Sinister didn’t answer. He drew closer, and Cass watched him take it all in. The chair, the glass wall in front of her, and the man beyond it. If Sinister was afraid, his face didn’t show it, and his voice was devoid of emotion as he said, “Finch. I stopped by the house to see you, and she told me where you went.”
Cass swallowed a curse—she should’ve lied when Finch saw her leaving. Right now, she didn’t have time to argue with Sinister. She wanted him out of this room and far away from Patrick Doyle. The Taxidermist might be stuck in a cell, but he set all of Cass’s instincts off. He felt dangerous. Cass didn’t want anyone else in his crosshairs, and if Sinister picked up on her tension, he might refuse to leave.
So she looked at him with an annoyed frown. “I don’t need your help. Everything is fine, and this isn’t even school related. I’m here for personal reasons. I’ll meet you outside, okay?” she said.
Sinister didn’t move.
“Where were we?” Patrick Doyle said from behind his glass wall, drawing Cass’s attention back to him. She decided not to waste more time convincing Sinister to leave. The new plan was to get what she wanted and get them all the hell out of there.
Agitation made Cass’s voice sharp. “We are at the end, Mr. Doyle. There’s nothing else to tell. I held up my end of the deal—you got my story.”
Patrick didn’t respond. His mouth was puckered in thought, and he kept staring at Cass as if she were a puzzle. Then, slowly, he pushed his chair back and stood.
“I’m afraid you’re right. We have reached the end,” Patrick said. He approached the barrier between them. Cass sensed the boys on either side of her tense with every step. Patrick stopped in front of her, tilting his head. His blue eyes raked the length of Cass’s face, starting with her hairline and ending at her chin.
“The truth is,” he continued, “it was a shot in the dark, using Michael’s name. I wanted to see if you’d react to it. I wanted to figure out what you knew.”
Patrick paused again. This was the part Cass was supposed to ask more questions, and keep feeding his inflated ego, but she was tired of his games.
Despite how much Patrick made her skin crawl, Cass shot to her feet and shoved her face close to the glass, glaring daggers at him. They stood so close now that, were it not for the thin barrier between them, the killer could bend his head and kiss her.
“Stop talking in riddles. We had a fucking deal,” Cass snarled.
Patrick didn’t respond. He was staring at her again, his eyebrows drawn together. Too late, Cass realized she’d fallen right into his trap. Patrick had been testing her, somehow. Trying to rile her up to gauge what reaction he’d get. But to what end?
A moment later, she had her answer.
“You already love him,” Patrick said. He sounded… furious.
I don’t love Michael. The response rose up in Cass automatically, like a knee jerk, but she realized her feelings weren’t relevant. She opened her mouth to demand again how Patrick knew about him.
Sinister touched Cass’s shoulder, stopping her. She gave him a questioning look, but he kept his gaze on Patrick. Something in his expression made Cass jerk back. She realized what it was in Sinister Gray’s eyes. Something she’d never witnessed there before, not even when a malevolent revenant had been barreling toward them.
Fear.
A sound made Cass whip back toward Patrick. She was about to speak, her body humming with anger and adrenaline, but then she saw him. Cass’s stomach dropped. The words on her tongue shriveled.
Patrick’s features were… changing. It was subtle, almost as if the bones in his face had gone brittle. The lines around his eyes and mouth were sharper, making Patrick look even more skeletal than before. His pupils, still latched on her, quivered and grew. That rotting scent filled the air again, more intense than before. Cass’s instincts were wailing now, beating at the walls of her skull, and this time she decided to listen to them. It was definitely time to go.
Just as Cass was about rip her gaze away from the killer in the cell, her body tensing to run because she didn’t give a shit anymore if he knew she was terrified, Patrick opened his mouth and let out the most chilling sound Cass had ever heard.
As the eerie, otherworldly scream bounced off the walls, making Cass clap her hands over her ears and let out a scream of her own, the truth seared through her mind and burned away every thought except one.
Patrick Doyle was a demon.
A moment later, the glass wall between them shattered.