Page 74 of Crawl
I can’t stop myself from panting. I know how this looks: everyone around me keeps dying, and I’m the only one still alive.
Did Cash plan this too? Did hewantme to be a suspect?
“Murder-suicide,” Peter says. “But Brody never struck me as the killer type. Maybe that’s why he offed himself. Or maybe something else happened.”
I blink my eyes. Is Peter suggesting that itwasn’tmurder-suicide? Is he implying thatIhave something to do with his death?
And I do have something to do with it. Cash killed my stepbrother to protect me. But I have to cover this up.
“But you saw him hurt me,” I stammer.
Peter stifles a laugh. “I saw you kick his ass too. But that whole thing may be a coincidence. Not sure.” He pushes himself forward. “But Winstone is involved in this. I can feel it.”
On the street, a car honks, and laughter floats into the room like crashing waves, making the real world seem far away. Winstoneisconnected. He’s connected because he’s dead, underneath the floorboards right now. He’s not the killer, but the person who killed Dean is the same person who killed Winstone.
“We’re going to have to check everyone’s crawl spaces in Key West,” he says. “Even here. We’re just waiting on the authorization.”
I gulp. “Do you think you’re going to find something?”
“People will fake drama for their fifteen minutes of fame. But when we find something real, we’ll know.” He slaps the table hard. “Don’t worry, Remedy. We’ll catch the killer.”
“But what if he disappears before then?”
“He won’t.”
My heart races. Where will Cash go? What will he do?
“But Winstone doesn’t have any motive,” I argue.Besides me.And that doesn’t even make sense. “Why would he do anything like that?”
“You don’t need a reason,” he says. “People are messed up. They do things because they enjoy it. Ask yourself this, Remmie. When a person doesn’t have a soul, what’s really stopping them from destroying everything in their path?”
I snicker, running my hands through my hair, but inside, I know he’s onto something. Because if Cash actually killedallof those people, he probably doesn’t have any reason. He killed them because he wanted to. Because he always does what he wants. It almost makes what I did with my stepdad seem morally righteous, and Cash’s delivery of my stepdad, a gift.
But everyone else? Killing Dean? Killing Winstone? How am I supposed to moralize their deaths?
“You say that like murder is a regular thing in Key West,” I scowl.
“Are you trying to downplay these deaths?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. “Murderisa regular thing now, Remmie. Don’t you get it?”
My skin prickles with heat, my body hair lifting at that implied accusation in his words. What can I say to put him off of our scent? And why do Iwantto protect Cash?
“I can help you,” Peter says. He draws closer to me, holding my hand like he wants to comfort me, but my stomach churns, making me weak. “Winstone isn’t as powerful as he thinks he is. Even men like him have weaknesses.”
I flinch out of his grip. I’m not sure why we’re still talking about this.
“I think you should go,” I say.
He rubs his hands together. “There’s only so much I can do to help you,” he warns. “But if you help meright now,I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you’re safe.”
Safe.
All I’ve ever wanted is safety. But Peter hasn’t given that to me. Nor the police. Nor Dean.
The only person who has given me that safety, is Cash.
I follow Peter to the front door. “You take care,” he says. “I’m here for you, all right?”
I nod, unable to make myself say another word. I close the front door, then let out a breath, but I’m not relieved. Yet I still have this instinct that Peter will protect me now.
