Chapter Fifteen — Ask Me Again #3
Ronan opened it. The video lasted seven seconds.
Dark. Shaky. Recorded from a distance. A parking lot.
Mason Kerr walking alone toward his car.
Timestamp in the corner. FRIDAY · 11:41 P.M. Less than an hour before Mason disappeared.
Mason reached his car. Stopped. Turned. Someone entered the edge of the frame.
Black clothes. Tall. Male. Face hidden. Ronan paused the video.
Elliot's heartbeat stopped. Not because of the figure.
Because he knew the angle. He knew exactly where the camera had been.
Across the street. Behind the fence. Someone had been there.
Watching. The video resumed. Mason stepped backward.
The figure approached. Then the recording ended.
Ronan replayed it. Once. Twice. Three times.
“That's him.”
Elliot forced his voice steady.
“Who?”
“The killer.”
“Maybe.”
Ronan enlarged the final frame. The figure's face remained impossible to see. No mask visible. Just darkness. Ronan stared.
“He's about my height.”
Elliot said nothing.
“Build too.”
“Half the men on campus are your height.”
“Not half.”
“Enough.”
Ronan looked at him. Then back at the video.
“Why send this to me?”
Elliot's stomach tightened. Because they want you looking. Because they want you asking. Because they want me afraid.
“I don't know.”
Ronan saved the video.
“Vance.”
Elliot didn't argue this time. That made Ronan look at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Ronan almost smiled.
“Fuck that word.”
Elliot didn't. Something about the video bothered him.
Not the existence of it. The timing. Whoever had recorded Mason had been there before Elliot arrived.
They had watched Mason. Then watched Elliot.
Which meant the message wasn't a bluff. Someone had seen him.
Someone had been close enough to know what happened.
Maybe close enough to hear Mason scream.
Ronan called Vance. Elliot got out of bed and dressed while listening.
“Yes, another message.”
Pause.
“A video.”
Another pause.
“Mason.”
Ronan's voice changed.
“No. Before.”
Elliot pulled on his shirt. Ronan looked at him while Vance spoke.
“Yeah.”
Pause.
“I'll send it.”
He ended the call.
“What did she say?”
“She wants the original message preserved.”
“Obviously.”
“And she's coming back.”
Elliot stopped.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Elliot looked at the clock. 5:39.
“Great.”
Ronan studied him.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
Elliot pulled on his jeans.
“I'm getting tired of that.”
“Try lying less.”
The words were teasing. Mostly. Elliot looked over.
Ronan smiled. Trust had returned. Not entirely.
Enough. That should have comforted him. Instead Elliot felt sick again.
Because Ronan had looked directly into his eyes and asked whether he killed Mason Kerr.
And Elliot had lied. Perfectly. The doorbell rang downstairs. Ronan grabbed his shirt.
“She's fast.”
Elliot went still.
“No.”
Ronan paused.
“What?”
“Vance wouldn't be here yet.”
They looked at each other. The bell rang again. One long press. Then silence. Ronan pulled his shirt over his head.
“Stay here.”
Elliot was already following. They went downstairs together. Ronan moved toward the door. Elliot caught his arm.
“Check first.”
Ronan looked through the side window. Nobody. His body tightened.
“Anyone?”
“No.”
“Don't open it.”
Ronan ignored him.
“Ronan.”
He unlocked the door. Elliot's heart slammed. Ronan opened it carefully. Empty porch. Empty driveway. No car. No person. Nothing. Then Ronan looked down. A small black box sat on the welcome mat. No address. No writing. Just black cardboard. Elliot knew what was inside before Ronan touched it.
“Don't.”
Ronan looked back.
“What?”
“Don't touch it.”
Something in Elliot's voice made him obey. They stared at the box. Ronan pulled out his phone.
“Calling Vance.”
Elliot barely heard him. Because the box was familiar.
He had bought three exactly like it months earlier.
One held the mask when it arrived. One remained beneath his bed.
The third had disappeared. He'd assumed he'd thrown it away.
Apparently not. Ronan spoke to Vance. Elliot stared at the box.
Then he noticed something. A thin white mark along the lid.
Not a scratch. Writing. Small enough that Ronan hadn't seen it. Elliot stepped closer. Three letters.
E.M.
His initials. His stomach dropped. Ronan ended the call.
“She said don't touch anything.”
Elliot nodded. Ronan looked at him. Then followed his gaze. He saw the initials. Silence.
“What is that?”
Elliot didn't answer.
“Elliot.”
His heartbeat became painfully loud. Ronan looked from the box to him.
“You recognize it.”
Not a question. Elliot swallowed.
“Yes.”
Ronan's face changed.
“How?”
There it was again. The question beneath every question. How much don't I know? Elliot looked at the black box sitting between them. Then at Ronan. For the first time, he couldn't find a lie quickly enough. And Ronan saw that too.