Infinite(63)

“Then there was you,” he went on. “I’ve done this so often now that I try to make the crimes fit the punishment. And with you, well, once I got to know you, I knew what to do. I started killing women who looked exactly like your wife. Sooner or later, Detective Bushing would show up, all the evidence in hand, your pretty wife shocked to realize she was married to a killer. But after Karly died in the river, I decided to make things more interesting. I decided to let you see me. I’d never done that before. I wanted to watch you disintegrate as you lost your mind. It added a nice little twist. But you surprised me. You figured it out. And then you used Eve to come after me. Knowing you were on my trail forced me to improvise. I had to move fast. I also couldn’t have two other Dylans in this world, so I took care of one by the river. Now it’s just you and me.”

“So what happens next?” I asked. “Do you kill me, too?”

“It’s not about the killing. Remember? It’s about the punishment.”

He left the bedroom, and I could hear him opening a drawer in the kitchen. When he came back, he held two serrated knives in his hand. He slipped one into his pocket and then put the other on the bed just out of the reach of my fingers.

“It may take you a while, but you should be able to figure out how to get hold of the knife and free yourself,” he said.

“Then what?”

“Then you can come after me, and we’ll see who wins.”

“Or maybe I’ll just wait here and take my chances,” I replied. “The police are going to have a hard time charging me with Tai’s murder if they find me tied to the bed. They’ll know I didn’t do it.”

“You won’t wait here,” my doppelg?nger replied with a strange degree of confidence.

“No?”

“No.” He calmly smoothed the sleeves of his purple shirt. “You have a date with Karly tonight. Remember?”

Suddenly, I understood.

Suddenly, the horror of what he was doing became clear. The dress clothes. The smooth shave. The musk cologne. My body wrenched against the bonds that held me, making the entire bed frame rattle on the floor. “Stay away from her! Don’t go near her! Don’t do this!”

He took the knife from his pocket and dangled the blade in front of my eyes.

“You couldn’t save Karly in your own world,” Dylan told me. “So this should be very interesting. Do you think you can save her in this one?”





CHAPTER 25

Karly.

I was going to lose her again. This predator with my face was going to meet her and kill her.

I had to stop him, but I had almost no time. Night was falling fast, which meant the time of our rendezvous wasn’t far away. Meanwhile, I was alone and trapped in the apartment. Alone with Tai’s body haunting me from the bathroom. Another woman I’d failed to rescue.

I shouted for Edgar, but he could barely hear the television even when it was turned up to full volume. I called for help at the top of my lungs, hoping to hear the thud of movement on the wooden floor over my head, but I heard nothing. Edgar was asleep in front of his game shows.

I needed to do this myself.

Dylan had left the kitchen knife just outside my grasp near the headboard. I jerked my body straight up, trying to jiggle the knife toward me. It moved a tiny bit toward my outstretched fingers, but it also slid dangerously close to the edge of the mattress. Where the knife was now, I could just touch the bottom of the handle with the tip of my middle finger. Another fraction of an inch, and I would be able to slide it into my hand.

Again I thrust my body fiercely upward. All four posts of the bed clanged up and down on the floor. The vibration bounced the knife closer, but the blade rotated, and the black handle crept over the side of the bed. I saw it falling in slow motion, and I was able to pinch the point of the sharp metal between two of my fingers, but it cut me, and I lost my grip. The knife dropped to the floor.

Now I had no way to escape.

For several more minutes, I struggled uselessly. However, I noticed that as the bed shook, a lamp on my nightstand kept moving. The lamp had a heavy base and a delicately fluted glass column rising to a conical shade. Glass could break. Glass could cut. I jolted the bed again, and the lamp wobbled. If it fell, there was no way to predict the direction it would go, but I had to take the chance. I hurled myself up and down one more time, watching the marble base of the lamp nudge over the side of the nightstand. Another shudder, and the thing would topple.

My fingers were ready. I heaved my left side upward. The lamp swayed, then fell like a tree, thudding onto the mattress next to me. Immediately, the weight of the stone base began dragging it to the floor. All I could do was cling to the shade with my fingertips. If I let go, it was gone. I held my breath, then snapped my fingers shut like a mousetrap. The lamp jumped closer to me and immediately began to slide back down, but my hand wrapped around the slim glass column and held it firmly.

With a quick twist of my wrist, I smashed the lamp backward against the brass headboard behind me. The glass broke and left jagged edges. It was fragile glass, but sharp, and I used it to saw at the fabric that secured me to the corner of the headboard. The process was frustratingly slow, but the silk began to come apart in threads, and when I’d opened up a small tear, I yanked hard and heard the tie rip apart and felt my right arm come free.

I swung my body over and repeated the process to free my left arm. When the silk tore away on that side, I pushed my body up and cut through the knots that held my ankles. I bloodied myself in the process as I rushed to get free, but when the last knot separated, I leaped off the bed.