Every Last Fear(93)
Evan put his hand on her shoulder, made a quiet shh sound, looking toward Maggie’s room.
Liv didn’t look well. She took a gulp of water. “I don’t know what to—”
“Do you love me?” Evan said.
She looked at him.
“Olivia Pine, do you love me?”
“Yes.” She searched his face, her own set in despair and confusion.
“Then there’s nothing you need to say.”
They sat in silence, Liv quietly trying to catch her breath, her hands shaking, her body quivering as if she were cold.
“I want us back,” Evan whispered, not wanting Maggie to hear. “Like we were. I want our family back.”
Liv sobbed, “That’s all I ever wanted.” She wiped her face with her hand.
They heard a noise from Maggie’s room. Liv wiped her face and Evan focused again on the computer, trying to act naturally.
Then Liv said it, the thing that caused the world to tilt: “If it wasn’t Danny’s blood—if he’s not blood type O negative—then whose is it?”
Evan looked at her for what seemed like a really long time until her face drained of color again.
“Noah?” she said.
“No, his son. It explains why no one saw Charlotte after the party. It explains the rumors about another boy. It explains why Sampson would change the blood—he’d been friends with Noah. They switched Danny’s blood for Kyle Brawn’s.”
“The baby wasn’t Danny’s,” Liv said. “It was Kyle’s.”
Just then Maggie emerged from her bedroom. “What’s wrong?” she said, looking at her parents. “What’s going on?”
“We got him, Magpie,” Evan said. “We got him.”
CHAPTER 62
MAGGIE PINE
BEFORE
Maggie looked at her parents. “I can’t believe it. Dad, you did it.” Her voice broke; she was nearly vibrating with excitement.
Her father looked dazed. He squeezed Mom’s hand, and said, “No, we all did it. And you get the most credit, Magpie. You.”
Maggie felt a welling in her chest. “But Kyle Brawn. Why? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know why. Maybe he got her pregnant, and maybe he didn’t want to let that get in the way of his life.”
Her mom chimed in: “And maybe he had help covering it up.”
“You think his dad…” Maggie didn’t finish the words. Noah Brawn had been on their side, a Free Danny Pine warrior like them. She felt a wave of betrayal. He wasn’t trying to help; he was creating a diversion. Kyle’s friend Ricky was who’d identified the Unknown Partygoer. Noah Brawn was the one who got the filmmakers to focus on the Smasher.
“Who’s the guy with the scar on his lip, and the lady?” Maggie asked.
“Maybe scam artists or weirdos. Or maybe someone Noah hired to pull us off the trail when Detective Sampson’s wife gave Mom the evidence.”
Maggie still wasn’t quite sure. Why would they lure them to Mexico? Why the elaborate ploy pretending Charlotte was alive? But those questions could wait. “I’m gonna go text Matt!”
Maggie was so excited, she felt almost light-headed. She darted into the bedroom and flew onto the bed. She pulled her phone from the charger and opened a text to send to Matt. Where to begin?
All at once, her thoughts were jumbled. The room was wobbling. She wasn’t feeling well, and tried to sit up.
But she couldn’t move.
What was happening?
Then she nearly leaped out of her skin.
A figure. A man stepping out of the closet! Maggie tried to jump up, tried to scream, but she was incapacitated. What the hell was going on? Her heart was banging in her chest, but it was as if she were paralyzed. Her body wouldn’t listen to the commands of her brain. Get up. Get up! But she was motionless, petrified wood. The man moved in her line of sight.
Holy crap, it was him. Help! Dad! The words wouldn’t come out. A terrible panic enveloped every part of her.
Maggie could still feel the phone in her hand. Her eyes could still move and they went to the glowing screen, the open text to Matt. Her thumb. She was having a hard time controlling it, but it moved. She managed to tap on the photo reel. Up popped all of her photographs. The last one, the couple. The man in her room! She tried to tap it, but her thumb wasn’t listening.
She felt far away. She told her thumb to move again, and it bounced on the screen. The photo of the couple was attached to the text to Matt. She just needed to press send.
The man ran over to her. Just before he grabbed the device out of her hand, she thought she heard the swish of a departing text.
The man cursed to himself when he examined the phone.
She was drifting.
The man lifted her arm and then let it go. It fell like a rag doll. He crouched down, looked into her pupils. He had a plain face, forgettable except for a scar that went from his nostril to his lip.
Maggie’s eyelids were heavy. She watched as the man took her water bottle and put it in a trash bag he was carrying. He was fiddling with her phone, connecting it to some type of handheld device. Then he wiped it down with a rag, positioned it back in her frozen hand.
The terror left her.
She felt warm and calm and loved and proud.