I felt a nose, dug my nails into their cheek. My hand grabbed a fist full of their hair and I pulled, using the last of my strength to focus, to try and breathe, though it was becoming more and more difficult.
The person pulled back, fighting their way out of my grip. I flashed the phone again. Again. Again.
I heard footsteps.
More flashes of light.
Piece by piece.
Flash by flash.
The smell, it took over.
Memories came back.
A distinctive perfume only one person I knew used.
Sweet.
Strong.
I flashed again and saw.
Lauren. Her hair wild, eyes mad, shrieking with a trickle of blood running down her cheek. She lunged at me, knife in hand, but a gun exploded behind us, deafening me, making the ringing louder.
Flashing the phone again I saw Lauren. Collapsed. Dead. Her body covering my legs, pinning me to the ground.
Standing over her was Bridgette, the proverbial smoking gun in hand.
Pointing it at me.
Chapter Thirty Two
Leave Me Love
BRIDGETTE HELD THE gun, her face a mask of shock, then she dropped it, shouting. She threw herself into my arms, crying and hugging. My tears came too, pouring out of me as the tension and fear drained away. We both wept, clutching at each other, shaking like leaves in a storm.
***
"It was all a set up," I said, sitting on a couch in the cabin between Bridgette and Ash.
Detective Gray waved his pen at Bridgette. "You mean, you never—"
Bridgette shook her head. "No one kidnapped me."
Gray jotted something down in his notebook as officers searched the cabin. "So why disappear? Why frame your friend?"
Bridgette grabbed my hand, squeezed it. "I was contacted by the Midnight Murderer while Catelyn was in the hospital. Lauren—though I didn't know who it was at the time—threatened to kill my family if I didn't cooperate. The only way she'd spare me and the people I loved was if I got ahold of Alice's book and research. I knew nothing about the book. She said my parents would die."
I leaned into Ash, who'd arrived before the police, and hoped he'd forgive me for what he was about to find out. "The weekend I got home from the hospital, Bridgette told me what the Midnight Murderer—what Lauren—wanted her to do, what she'd already had her do, like signing my name at the impound lot and switching out the hospital note that had the invisible ink."
Gray's eyebrow popped up. "You knew Bridgette did that? You could have saved me the annoying calls."
I smirked. "I had to keep you on your toes." I paused. "And I had to act realistic. We knew we couldn't tell anyone about the threats in case the killer followed through, so we came up with a plan. Bridgette would contact the killer and say she could get me to find the book, but first she'd have to disappear and frame me for it. If I wanted my friend back, I'd have to find the book."
"Still, why frame you?" Gray asked. "Why not pretend you had the book right away and set up the meeting?"
Bridgette rolled her eyes. "Because if I showed up at that meeting, fake book or not, Lauren would have killed me. Tie up loose ends, you know."
Gray kept writing. "So, you framed Catelyn to… get the killer’s trust?"
I nodded. "Because Lauren didn't just want the book. She wanted revenge. She and Lucky were probably lovers. He was probably a past patient of hers. At the very least, we assumed they were friends. So, if Bridgette could help Lauren get revenge then…"
"I could trick her," finished Bridgette. "I pretended to want Catelyn dead, told Lauren I was jealous of her and Ash. I would disappear, frame Catelyn for my kidnapping, Catelyn would get the book, then I'd kill her and pretend to escape. Lauren agreed to the plan and said she'd let me go afterwards. But of course, she'd have killed me, too, after Catelyn had been disposed of. She'd have made it look like we'd both died in a struggle."
"So how did you two, um, disable her?"
Bridgette took a deep breath. "When Catelyn and I fought in the basement, when I was supposed to kill Catelyn, I pretended to lose and pass out." Bridgette rubbed her shoulder and frowned at me. "Catelyn did a remarkable job of keeping the fight realistic. Thanks for that."
I gestured to my clothes, or rather, Professor Cavin's old clothes. "At least you aren't covered in shit. I smell like an outhouse."
Gray cleared his throat. "Then what?"
Bridgette continued. "When the killer came in, whose identity we still didn't know, I was supposed to stop them."
"It didn't go exactly as planned," I said. "We didn't expect her to turn off the lights."
Gray just paced the room as he chewed on his nicotine gum, making a smacking sound that irritated the hell out of me. He looked at us, his eyes narrowed. "I can't believe you girls did such a stupid, idiotic and dangerous thing alone. You both could have been killed. You should have contacted us and let us handle the sting."