Chapter Four — Jealousy Looks Good on You #3
“Police have not identified the individual as a suspect but are asking anyone who recognizes the mask or remembers seeing someone matching this description Saturday night to contact investigators immediately.”
Someone laughed nervously.
“That's fucking creepy.”
Another person said, “Halloween psycho.” Ronan looked at Elliot. He was staring at the television. His face had gone pale. Or maybe the blue light from the screen only made it look that way.
“Hey.”
Elliot didn't respond. Ronan touched his elbow. Elliot blinked.
“You good?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“It's creepy.”
That was all. Reasonable. Normal. Ronan looked back at the television.
The image remained. Something about the mask bothered him.
Not familiarity. He was certain he'd never seen it before.
It was the stillness. Even in a blurry security image, the person wearing it seemed unnaturally composed.
There was no drunken slouch. No hurried movement.
No suggestion that someone had accidentally wandered into frame.
The figure appeared to be standing there.
Waiting. Then the broadcast returned to Mason's photograph.
Noise slowly filled the room again. People immediately started theorizing.
Serial killer. Jealous boyfriend. Fraternity hazing gone wrong.
Drug dealer. Somebody from Mason's past. Nobody knew anything.
That didn't stop them. Ronan looked at Elliot again.
He had already turned away from the television.
His attention was somewhere across the room. Dylan. Of fucking course. Dylan stood beside the kitchen entrance talking to the blond guy from earlier. The guy leaned close to say something over the music. Dylan laughed. Then glanced toward Ronan. Elliot saw that too. Ronan sighed.
“You've got to be kidding.”
“What?”
“A possible murderer just appeared on television and you're still thinking about Dylan.”
Elliot looked at him. The sweetest smile spread across his face.
“Multitasking.”
Ronan laughed despite himself.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Home.”
Elliot's eyebrows rose.
“You're leaving?”
“Suddenly this party sucks.”
“It sucked twenty minutes ago.”
“Then why didn't you say something?”
“I did.”
“You complained about Dylan.”
“Same thing.”
Ronan grabbed his jacket. Elliot followed him toward the door. Dylan intercepted them.
“You're leaving?”
“Yeah.”
“You just got here.”
“An hour ago.”
Dylan looked at Elliot.
“Dragging him away?”
Elliot smiled.
“I don't have to drag very hard.”
Ronan shot him a look. Dylan laughed.
“Friday next week?”
“Maybe.”
Elliot answered before Ronan could.
“He's busy.”
Ronan turned.
“I am?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“Me.”
Silence. Tiny. Dangerous. Dylan looked between them. Elliot didn't blink. Ronan felt his pulse kick. Then Elliot laughed.
“Family thing.”
Dylan relaxed. Ronan did not.
“Right,” Dylan said. “Have fun.”
“We won't,” Ronan replied.
They stepped outside. Cold air hit immediately. The rain had stopped, but everything smelled wet. Asphalt reflected the porch lights. Water dripped steadily from the gutters. They walked toward Ronan's motorcycle. Elliot shoved his hands into his pockets.
“You're reckless,” Ronan said.
“With what?”
“Don't play stupid.”
“I said family thing.”
“After saying he's busy with me.”
“He is.” Ronan stopped beside the motorcycle.
Elliot kept walking two steps before turning. Streetlight caught the side of his face.
“What?” Ronan studied him.
“You want someone to figure it out?” Elliot's expression changed. For the first time that night, the jealousy disappeared completely. “No.”
“Then be careful.”
“I am careful.”
“Tonight you weren't.”
Elliot looked back toward Dylan's house. Music pulsed through the walls.
“You were letting him flirt with you.”
“So?”
“So I wanted him to know.”
“Know what?” Elliot looked at Ronan. “That he doesn't have a chance.” Ronan's irritation weakened. That was the problem with Elliot. He could make something unreasonable sound painfully simple. Ronan stepped closer. “Jealousy looks good on you.” Elliot smiled. “You think?”
“Unfortunately.” Ronan handed him the spare helmet. Elliot took it. “Does murder investigation paranoia look good on me too?”
“No.”
“Shame.”
“Put the fucking helmet on.” Elliot laughed. He pulled it over his head. Ronan climbed onto the motorcycle.
A second later, Elliot settled behind him.
His arms wrapped around Ronan's waist. Nobody here could see anything strange in that.
A passenger holding onto the driver. Normal.
Elliot's hands slid beneath Ronan's jacket anyway.
Ronan looked down. “Seriously?” Elliot's helmet rested against his shoulder. “Innocent.”
“Bullshit.”
Ronan started the engine. As they pulled away, he glanced once toward Dylan's house.
Dylan stood in the doorway. Watching them leave.
Ronan looked forward. He didn't notice Elliot turn his head.
Didn't see the way Elliot watched Dylan until the house disappeared behind them.
And he couldn't possibly know that somewhere inside Elliot's mind, Dylan Price had already become a problem that needed solving.