What Lies in the Woods(83)

“He isn’t who you think he is, Naomi,” Cass said gently.

“Please just tell me what you’re talking about,” I said, panic starting to well up.

Big Jim reached over to the desk and picked up a plain folder. He held it out to me. “Just like he claims, he works for a podcast network and he’s written and produced a bunch of stuff on true crime under the name Ethan Schreiber. But he changed his name when he turned eighteen. Before that, it was—”

I stared at the page inside the folder. It was paperwork for having his name changed in the state of Washington to Ethan Schreiber—

From Alan Michael Stahl, Jr.

The words on the page slid out of focus and refused to return. A tight, cold feeling flared along the back of my neck, pooling at the base of my skull, and I tasted something strange and sharp in the back of my throat. It couldn’t be true. It had to be a mistake. Ethan wasn’t—

“Is this a joke?” I asked, knowing that it wasn’t. Neither of them answered me. Ethan was Stahl’s son. Ethan had written the letter. He’d lied to me. He’d followed me, stalked me, insinuated himself into my life. He’d made me trust him.

And I’d thrown myself at him.

I choked out a laugh. “He’s Stahl’s son?”

“Looks that way,” Big Jim said. “I take it you didn’t know, then.”

“Of course I didn’t fucking know,” I snapped. Big Jim gave me a nod, not the least bit bothered by this outburst. I stared at the paper, willing it to transform. How could I have missed it? How could I not have known?

Of course Alan Stahl, Jr., would change his name. If he ever wanted to get out of the shadow of his father, if he wanted to be anything but a serial killer’s son, he had to. I’d done it. Why hadn’t I assumed he would as well?

Ethan had lied to me from the start. When I’d told him about the letter, he’d worked so hard to calm me down. And it was all bullshit. He’d sent the letter. He’d known that I was lying all along. I’d confessed it to him. Trusted him, the way I’d never trusted anyone.

He was good at getting people to talk to him. Stahl had been good at that, too. He’d talked women right to their deaths.

Cass looked at me with pity. Big Jim’s face was as blank as ever. I looked away, shame and embarrassment sliding sickly through me, more pernicious than anger. I should have known. I was a fool.

I thought of the way he’d hinted that I shouldn’t trust Cass. Like he was trying to create a wedge between us.

It wasn’t just that I’d trusted him. I’d thought …

But it didn’t matter, did it? Whatever I felt, it was for a man who didn’t exist.

“I’ll let you two talk in private,” Big Jim said. As he passed, he clapped me on the shoulder once. It was the only time I could recall him ever touching me, and it took all I had not to slide out from under his hand, my skin crawling. I didn’t want anyone touching me. Not ever again.

The door closed behind Jim. Cass rubbed my arm in a way I’m sure was meant to be comforting. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I wish that it wasn’t true. I wish that I didn’t have to tell you.”

“Why was your dad looking into him at all?” I asked. I felt like I was going to vomit, but I forced myself to focus on Cass’s face. She always knew what to do. She was always the one in control, and I needed that now.

“I asked him to. I wanted to look out for you,” Cass said.

“He lied. The whole time, he— God, Cass, I told him things.”

“You told him about Persephone—Jessi Walker, right?” Cass asked. I nodded. “I really wish you hadn’t done that. What else did you tell him?”

“Everything,” I said. I was an idiot. I’d known he had to be hiding something. He’d all but told me not to trust him. “I told him I lied at the trial.”

She looked at me aghast. “You told a serial killer’s son that you lied to put his father in prison.”

“I’m not sure he was a serial killer,” I said, which didn’t make it better.

Ethan had been sure, though. Unless that was another lie.

“He must have come to talk to me—but I wasn’t even here. No, he came to talk to you. And Liv. She said she’d talk to him.”

“I didn’t know that,” Cass said, head tilted, frowning. “Do you know what she told him?”

“Nothing, I think,” I said. “But what if he confronted her? She wasn’t going to tell him anything until we all agreed, but if he pushed, if he got angry…” I couldn’t imagine Ethan with a gun in his hands, rage on his face. I couldn’t imagine him lying to me like this, either. I had no idea who he really was. What he was really capable of.

Cass’s face was pale. “Do you really think he might have killed Olivia?” she asked, voice hushed.

“I don’t know. I need to go. I need to— I can’t—”

“You should stay. Wait until you’re feeling steadier,” Cass said.

“No, I have to—all my stuff is at the motel room. I have to go get it. I have to…” Shit. I couldn’t think past the motel room door. He’d be there. Waiting. What was I going to do? What was I going to say?

“Here.” Cass pressed a key into my hand. I frowned at it, uncomprehending. “You’re staying with me. As long as you need to. And you’re not going to that motel room alone. Go wait at my place. We’ll take care of this.”