Chapter Twenty-One — He Did It for Me #2
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
Elliot’s jaw tightened. Ronan looked at him. There was no suspicion now. Only horror.
“They saw us.”
“Yes.”
“Together.”
“Yes.”
Something about that upset Ronan differently. Exposure. Not murder. Not police. Them. Elliot understood. His own anger sharpened. The observer had crossed a boundary Elliot considered absolute. Ronan saw his face.
“Don’t.”
Elliot looked up.
“What?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Yes, I do.”
Elliot almost laughed.
“No.”
“You want to find them.”
“Yes.”
“And hurt them.”
Silence. Ronan’s jaw tightened. “Elliot.” “They watched us sleep.” “That does not mean you get to kill them.” “I didn’t say kill.
” “You didn’t need to.” Elliot handed the phone back.
“They knew Mason.” “We think.” “They saw the murder.” “Probably.” “They knew about Dylan.” “Yes.” “They’ve been inside our house.
” “Yes.” “And now we know they’ve been watching our bedroom.
” Ronan’s expression hardened. “I know.” “So tell me again why I’m supposed to sit here and wait for Vance.
” “Because she has an entire fucking police department.” “And they’ve caught no one.
” “She also caught you.” The sentence stopped Elliot cold.
Ronan immediately realized. “Fuck.” “No.” “Elliot.” “No. You’re right.
” “That wasn’t—” “She almost caught me.” “That is not a compliment.” “I didn’t say it was.
” Ronan rubbed his face. “You are impossible.” Elliot stared at the photograph.
Then something clicked. The angle. He grabbed the phone again.
“What?” Ronan asked. Elliot zoomed. Window frame.
A branch visible in the upper corner. He looked toward the actual window.
Then back. “This wasn’t taken from the ground. ” Ronan frowned. “What?”
“The angle.”
He held the phone beside his face and compared. The bedroom was second floor. Someone standing outside would have needed elevation. Tree. Roofline. Something. Elliot crossed the room and pulled the blind aside. Ronan immediately grabbed his wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Look.”
“Close it.”
“Ronan.”
“Someone photographs us through that fucking window and your response is to open it?”
“Look at the tree.”
Ronan stared. Then reluctantly looked. A large maple stood roughly fifteen feet from the house. One branch extended toward the second floor. Not close enough to reach the window. Close enough to see it. Elliot’s eyes narrowed.
“Someone climbed that.”
Ronan looked at the photograph. Then the branch.
“You can’t know that.”
“Angle.”
“Could be a camera pole.”
“Maybe.”
“Drone.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Window reflection would show lights.”
Ronan looked at him.
“Of course you noticed that.”
Elliot ignored it. A pale mark showed on the branch. Scrape. Fresh enough that bark had been removed. His pulse increased.
“There.”
Ronan saw it.
“Could be anything.”
“Could.”
Neither believed that. Elliot closed the blind.
Ronan immediately called Vance. This time Elliot didn’t object.
Vance arrived at 1:16 A.M. with two officers.
The patrol cruiser remained out front. Another vehicle parked near the main house.
Rebecca’s bedroom light came on. Great. Their mother would be over within ten minutes.
Vance examined the photograph. Then the bedroom.
Then the tree. One officer went outside with a flashlight.
Elliot stood beside Ronan near the bedroom door.
No touching. Not because they didn’t want to.
Because Vance knew enough already. She looked at the bed. Then them.
“Thursday?”
Ronan said, “Yeah.”
“Were you both asleep the whole night?”
“Yes.”
“Anything unusual?”
“No.”
Vance looked at Elliot. He shook his head.
“No.”
“Any noises outside?”
“No.”
The officer returned.
“There are marks on the branch.”
Elliot’s satisfaction came too quickly. Vance noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Ronan almost laughed. Vance ignored both.
“Footwear?”
“Possible. Need photos.”
The officer left again. Vance turned toward Elliot.
“Did you receive the earlier stalking messages before or after you began killing?”
Silence. Ronan went still. Elliot stared. There it was. Not accusation. Knowledge? No. She couldn’t know. Ronan reacted first.
“What the fuck?”
Vance looked at him.
“I’m asking whether the sender may be connected to behavior Elliot hasn’t disclosed.”
That was different. Careful. Ronan’s entire body tightened. Elliot could feel the lie waiting. Ronan said:
“He hasn’t killed anyone.”
Elliot looked at him. Vance did too. There. Third lie. This one bigger. Direct. Not omission. Not interpretation. A statement. Elliot’s chest tightened painfully. Vance watched Ronan for several seconds. Then looked at Elliot.
“Is that true?”
Everything inside Elliot screamed. Say yes. He looked at Ronan. Ronan’s face gave nothing away. But his eyes did. Don’t make this worse. Elliot understood.
“Yes.”
Vance’s expression remained neutral. She looked between them.
“Interesting.”
Ronan’s jaw tightened.
“What is?”
“Nothing.”
Neither of them laughed. Vance closed her notebook.
“We’re going to increase patrols.”
Elliot frowned.
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“This person got onto the property despite patrol.”
“Before patrol began.”
True. Annoying.
“Cameras,”
Vance
continued.
“Every
exterior
angle. Tomorrow.”
Ronan nodded. Elliot didn’t. Vance looked at him.
“Problem?”
“No.”
“There’s that word.”
Elliot almost smiled. She had learned too.
“I’ll cooperate.”
“Good.”
A noise sounded downstairs. Rebecca.
“Elliot?”
He closed his eyes. Ronan whispered, “Have fun.” Elliot glared. His mother appeared in the doorway wearing a robe and slippers. She saw the police. Then the open blinds. Then both men.
“What happened?”
Elliot smiled automatically.
“Nothing.”
Ronan started laughing. He tried to stop. Failed. Rebecca stared at him like he had lost his mind. Vance’s mouth twitched. Even Elliot laughed. Small. Ridiculous. For five seconds, the room stopped being terrifying. Then Rebecca noticed the photograph on Vance’s phone. Her face changed.
“What is that?”
Nobody answered quickly enough. She took the phone.
Saw her sons asleep together. Not the kind of together easily explained as familial.
Ronan stopped laughing. Elliot’s stomach dropped.
Rebecca looked up. First at Ronan. Then Elliot.
The room became silent. Vance looked profoundly interested in the wall.
Elliot wished the floor would open. Rebecca handed the phone back.
“Police downstairs.”
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
“Both of you. Five minutes.”
She turned and left. Ronan stared after her.
“Oh.”
Elliot covered his face.
“Oh?”
Ronan looked at him.
“I think your mother just figured out we’re fucking.”
“Thank you, Ronan.”
“Trying to identify positives.”
“There are no positives.”
“At least murder isn’t the biggest secret in the house for the next five minutes.”
Elliot lowered his hands slowly. Ronan realized what he’d said. Then both started laughing again. Not because it was funny. Because apparently nervous breakdowns came in stages. Vance sighed.
“I’m going outside.”
She left. Ronan looked at Elliot. Their laughter died slowly. Then Elliot said:
“You lied.”
Ronan’s expression sobered.
“Yes.”
“Directly.”
“Yes.”
“You told her I didn’t kill anyone.”
“I noticed.”
“Why?”
Ronan stared. Then his face hardened.
“Because you’re mine to deal with.”
The words hit Elliot like a physical thing. Possession. From Ronan. Not Elliot. His chest tightened.
“That’s fucked up.”
“Look who’s talking.”
Elliot smiled despite himself. Ronan stepped closer. Not touching. Close.
“You do not get to interpret that as permission.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
“Maybe.” Ronan’s mouth twitched. Then his expression changed again. Serious.
“This person knows.”
“Yes.”
“About you.”
“Yes.”
“About us.”
“Yes.”
“And apparently expected me to choose you.”
Elliot swallowed. He’ll choose the monster he knows.
“Maybe.”
Ronan stared.
“What if that’s the point?”
Elliot frowned.
“What?”
“What if they’re not trying to expose you?”
Cold moved through him.
“Then what?”
Ronan looked toward the dark window.
“What if they’re trying to turn me into you?”
Silence. Elliot stared at him. The thought settled slowly.
The messages. The evidence. Wrong brother.
Dylan. Forcing Ronan to lie. Forcing him to choose.
Each escalation pushing Ronan across another boundary.
One lie. Then another. Then another. Not exposing Elliot.
Corrupting Ronan. Elliot felt something disturbingly close to admiration.
Then disgust at himself for feeling it. Ronan saw.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Elliot.”
He looked at him.
“If that’s what they’re doing…”
Ronan waited. Elliot’s voice dropped.
“It’s working.”
Ronan’s face hardened.
“Fuck you.”
But he didn’t deny it. And that scared Elliot more than anything else had.