Tell Me True (Call Me Cat Trilogy #3)(29)

"Agreed," I said, taking a swig of water from the water bottle he handed me and popping a few pain pills. God, the pain. "I'll manage." Though looking at the rope ladder, how far away the top looked, I wondered if that was true. Was I strong enough to get up there in this condition?

I thought of Ash. Of Bridgette. Of the baby. And I knew. Of course I was strong enough. I had to save my family.

I was about to disembark from the speedboat and climb the yacht when a body floated by us in the water. I covered my mouth to muffle my scream.

The Midnight Murderer had killed Maxwell.





Chapter Thirty Two


Bloody Omens


AT THE FIRST WEDDING, JUST BEFORE THE EXPLOSION





ON THE WAY to the wedding, my heart pounding with what was about to happen, I snuck into the ballroom where our smaller reception would take place immediately after the ceremony.

Where it would have taken place if Jon weren't about to fake his own death.

I hated defiling my own wedding this way. Hated hurting the man I loved with these deceptions, but I knew none of us would ever be safe if I didn't.

And so I took out the small vial of goat's blood I'd acquired and, using a small paint brush, left the macabre message that would be discovered after the explosion. The message that would scare the Davenports and anyone else involved into action.

Ash is next. The Davenports will pay for their crimes.

My hand shook as I wrote it, blood dripping down the enlarged poster of our wedding invitation.

They would turn on themselves, the Alpha Pi Omega. And then, I would turn on them.





Chapter Thirty Three


Secrets Revealed


PRESENT DAY


I TRIED TO push the image of Maxwell's body out of my mind as I used my good arm to pull myself up the rope ladder. Jon did what he could to help, pushing me from the boat, but when I had to use my left arm for support, the pain nearly destroyed me. Still, I pushed through.

How many more people had the Midnight Murderer killed already?

Lucky was a hired hand. Not the real killer. He wasn't even at my parents' house that night. Just someone the real killer used to frame and do some dirty work.

Lauren, my therapist, was part of the plot, and she had a role in my parents' murder, but she wasn't the one there that night, raping and stabbing and killing.

No, the real killer was on the yacht, and I had to stop him before he took everything from me. Again.

My body shook as I reached for the last rung on the ladder and pulled myself overboard. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the salt water already there. I felt cold, then hot. Sticky and miserable. But I stood, bare feet leaving wet footprints as I stumbled forward to find Ash. I had to find Ash and Bridgette. Nothing else mattered.

I was walking past the lifeboats when a hand reached out and grabbed me. I spun around, heart racing, and found Mr. Davenport staring at me. I pulled my arm away from him and stumbled backwards.

"Catelyn, what are you doing skulking around here? And what happened to your clothes?" He looked down at my oversized sweats and shirt, my bare feet, my wet hair dripping salt water on the deck.

"I have to find Ash. Where is he?"

"He's at the party with everyone else. He's been asking about you." He paused, his eyes devouring me. "You looked beautiful today. Just like your mother."

"Um, thanks. But I have to go." I pushed past him and another body blocked my way.

Detective Gray came out of the shadows to stand by Mr. Davenport. "What's going on here?"

I looked back and forth between the two men and wondered if I could trust either of them. "Please, just let me by. Something has happened, and I need to talk to Ash."

Neither of the men moved. The air seemed heavier, the walls closer. I was about to scream for help when Detective Gray pulled out his gun. "Just tell us what you found, Catelyn. What did your mother's book say? Who did it implicate?"

I shook my head, feigning confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"We know you found the book," Mr. Davenport said. "That you killed Jon to get back at us. When is it going to stop? When will it be enough?"

"I'm not the one killing people," I said, looking pointedly at his gun. "What do you think my mother's book said?"

Gray smiled. "Your mother was always the cleverest of us all. And the most squeamish when it came to making the hard calls."

Things clicked together in my sluggish mind, my mother's last words falling like puzzle pieces into place with what they were telling me. The rage I felt cleared my mind, overtaking any pain I’d been in before. "Is that why you all had her killed?" I spat the words at him, no longer caring about my life.

"That wasn't our call," Davenport said. "Your mother wanted out, but she'd already benefited from the club she'd helped form. She couldn't be allowed to leave."

Gray took a step toward me. "She knew too much. Just like you. She knew the laws we'd all broken. The compromises we'd each made to help each other."

I looked back and forth between them, my eyes narrowed. "All of you were in the club. The Greek letters, it was your club, wasn't it? Alpha Pi Omega—the beginning and end tied up in a never ending middle. You two, Maxwell, my mother, Lauren… you all met at Harvard…"