Aftermath(92)

“Based on what? The smell of fried chicken? There’s no sign I was ever here. The security system wasn’t tampered with. The locks weren’t picked.”

“Your stepmom has the keys and the code from when she cleaned the condo for my aunt. And you came along to help.”

The look on Tiffany’s face tells me I’ve guessed right.

I lift my phone. “Mae and I were talking about you by text, and she mentioned you used to clean with your stepmom.” I hit buttons on the phone. “Here, let me show you.”

“That doesn’t prove —”

“No, but your confession does.”

“Confession?”

I waggle the phone. “The audio file I just emailed to Jesse.”

She snorts a laugh. “Nice try. Check that phone again. The Wi-Fi is off and the cell signal is blocked.”

“You mean our Wi-Fi. You disconnected the router. Which didn’t stop me from connecting to our neighbor’s unsecured one.”

I look at my phone. “Yep, the file has been sent. Jesse will – No, strike that. Jesse just got it. He must not be able to sleep. In pain from that fall, I bet. Well, he has the audio, so forget about getting away with it.”

“You lying bitch.”

“Don’t believe me?” I hold out the phone. “He’s downloading the audio now. See?”

“Give me that.”

“Hell, no. I’m not handing you my phone. You can see it from there. Just look. Downloaded thirty percent. Forty —”

She lunges for the phone. I throw it at her. Throw it in her face and slash my knife down on the hand holding the gun, but she dodges.

I don’t expect that. I slash again, but it’s wide, panicked. I kick, too. My foot makes contact. The gun rises, and I grab for her wrist. I drop my knife to grab her. She doesn’t expect that. The gun falls as she wrenches back. I kick the gun aside and dive at her.

She scoops up the knife and strikes. It catches me in the sleeve, but only snags, and I punch, my fist slamming into her side.

She hits the wall with a thud and the knife falls. She lunges for it. I stomp on her hand, and she lets out a screech of rage and pain. I grab her by the wrist. She yanks back before I get a grip. Then she’s gone, out the bedroom door, racing down the hall.

I’m about to go after her. Then I remember the gun and make a split-second decision to let Tiffany have a head start. There’s something I need to do first.

When I catch up, she’s at the front door, fumbling with the dead bolt.

A knock sounds at the door. She freezes.

“Skye?” Jesse calls. He knocks again. “Ms. Benassi? I’m sorry for coming by, but I thought of something I need to tell Skye, and she isn’t answering her phone, and I got worried.”

Tiffany turns to me. Slowly turns.

“That recording never went through,” she says.

“Not the first time – I wanted you to come closer. But once you ran, I connected and sent it. It’s in his inbox. He’ll get it eventually. So step away from the door —”

She charges. I slash the knife. It slices into her. Blood sprays. But she doesn’t care – is beyond caring. She shoves me as hard as she can and runs back toward the bedroom. Back to Mae.

“Jesse!” I shout. “Call the police!”

“Open the door!” he shouts.

“I can’t.” I’m racing after Tiffany. “Please. Get the police!”

Tiffany slides into Mae’s room and slams the door behind her. I grab the handle, but there’s blood on my hands, and I can’t turn the knob. I grasp it with my shirt and twist and throw it open — Tiffany is standing beside the bed, and she’s retrieved the gun. The barrel points at Mae’s head.

“Hand me your phone,” she says.

When I hesitate, she waggles the gun. I retrieve my phone from the floor, pass it to her. She looks at the screen and snorts.

“No Wi-Fi,” she says. “You’re such a liar.” She shoves my phone into her back pocket. “If it’s any consolation, you should be glad you couldn’t send that recording. Otherwise, I’d have had to make you kill Jesse, too. Now I just need to hide until the cops break down the door and find you beside your aunt’s dead body. Bring that knife here. You have work to do, Skye.”

“No.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.” She turns the gun on me. “Step over here —”

“No.”

“I don’t know what new trick you think you have up your sleeve, Skye. Or are you just stalling until Jesse gets help? I’m not going to give you that much time. You have thirty seconds —”

“Shoot me.”

“If you’re calling my bluff, that’s a very stupid move.”

“Is it?” I step toward her. “There’s no one here to pull that trigger for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. The great Oz. The mastermind behind the screen. That’s what you think you are. Do you know what you really are?” Another step. “A coward.”

“Are you actually insulting me when I have a gun in my hand?”

“You don’t pull triggers, Tiffany. You make other people do it. You have no idea what it’s like to kill someone. You sneer at Isaac for shooting himself. You sneer at Owen for running away. Yes, they broke… because you broke them. You made them do what you couldn’t do yourself, and then you sneered when they couldn’t hack it. That is the worst kind of coward.”