Going Dark, page 19
She had to admit, she liked being Amelia Ashley. Most things she said in her videos were true and came from her own heart. That much was real. One of the highlights of her day was responding to user comments and messages, connecting with people who cared, finding solidarity and inspiration in her content. Planning posts, taking polls, doing collaborations with other creators . . . it was a break from reality. Her online community was more real than the one she’d known growing up in Eureka. Most of her life, she’d been isolated and now she felt like she was finally making friends in the real world too, even if it was all pretense. She could have tricked herself into believing her own lies.
Still, it was exhausting being authentic while lying through her teeth every day, every hour, minute, second. Being Amelia Ashley was a full-time job.
If only it could have been Mignon’s life. She was the one who deserved to have it.
Everywhere she went, she brought Mignon with her, a constant reminder of what she was doing, what all of this was for, even when Tori invited Amelia to the local independent bookstore, Verbatim, one sweltering afternoon.
“Ooh, this is a classic,” Tori cooed, making a beeline toward the mystery section. She pulled out a Hercule Poirot book and flipped through it, letting the breeze from the pages blow across her face. It was nice getting out of the So-Cal heat to browse in the comfort of an air-conditioned bookstore. “Have you read it?”
“Five Little Pigs? Of course,” Amelia said, beaming. She didn’t have to pretend as much when Tori was around, but her guard was up all the time. “I love crime fiction. It’s nice seeing the bad guys always get their comeuppance.”
Tori smiled. “If only life were that fair.”
Just as Amelia took another Poirot book from the shelf and read the back cover, Mignon pointed at Amelia’s pocket. “You got a notification,” she said.
Amelia put the book back on the shelf and pulled out her phone. A small thrill of excitement coursed through her body like an electric shock. “Hello, Josh Reuter,” she said, seeing his name. He’d started following her Instagram account, liking twenty of her photos in a row.
Tori noticed Amelia smiling at her phone and asked, “What’s up?”
Amelia turned the phone toward her and Tori’s lips curled knowingly.
“He is so predictable,” she said. “Typical boy. I knew he’d like you.” She pulled an old copy of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express and flipped through it idly.
All the pain Amelia had endured, in her body and mind, felt worth it.
“Do you think I should say something?” Amelia asked.
Mignon leaned against a bookcase, her arms folded over her chest. “You can still back out. You don’t have to do this.”
“Of course, slide into his DMs,” Tori said, speaking over Mignon. “Only if you like him though. Do you like him?”
The look in Amelia’s eye could have been mistaken for excitement. She licked her lips. “He’s perfect.”
The first time Josh Reuter kissed her had been in his apartment. She’d come over with the pretense of watching a movie and eating some takeout, but it quickly turned into something more. In the closeness of the dark, he slipped his hand against her thigh. She let him, feeling like she was outside of her body, looking through someone else’s eyes. His lips grazing hers, his breath hot and sweet against her skin, his hands roaming across her hips and her back.
She imagined biting down hard, clamping like a vise with her front teeth on his pillowy lips, tasting his blood as it poured into her open mouth and he struggled against her and tried to pull away, crying out in pain and shock and horror. Fantasizing about how she could hurt him was all she could do to play his game. Amelia separated herself from reality, retreated to the smallest part of her mind, and watched herself move. She kissed him back, fiercely, turning her rage into a falsehood of passion. She could feel the smile on her lips as she breathed him in, consuming him. She was going to devour him, steal everything he cared about.
She sensed Mignon behind her, watching, warning, and she pushed her out of her mind.
The second time she kissed him, it had been after a dinner date at Artie’s Pizza. He brought her to her apartment and they kissed on the stoop, under the soft light cast from her building’s lobby. She was an actress, performing for an audience of one, and the way he touched her let her know she was enchanting.
The third time she kissed him, he told her he loved her, whispered in the dark as they cuddled in his bed, clothes on. Even she couldn’t bring herself that far. Being in his bed made her skin crawl. She wanted to scream, to explode, to throw something, but instead she smiled and answered with another kiss planted on his lips. She was going to steal the breath right out of his lungs.
Amelia transplanted herself into Josh’s life, easily slipping into the role of girlfriend, even if the thought made her stomach churn. Every friend he introduced her to, she wore the mask of sincerity. None of these people knew who Josh was, not really. They didn’t realize how much danger they were in.
Once, at a frat party Josh invited her to, she saw it firsthand. She nursed a bottle of beer, barely having any of it, and let Josh have fun. When he went to the bathroom, she went to get some air on the back porch, the loud music and smell of bodies suffocating her, but she was intercepted in the hallway by a gentle touch on her shoulder.
“You’re Amelia, right?” He was handsome, with caramel-colored curls and an easy smile. A lot of people smiled easily when Amelia was around.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, barely above the noise of the music and the party-goers. She looked over her shoulder, aware that Josh could appear at any moment. She hated parties. She’d never been to one before, especially not a college party, and she constantly felt in the way, especially as people moved past her to get from one part of the house to the other.
“I’ve got you,” he said, grabbing her around the elbow, guiding her to the side of the hallway and out of traffic. “I’m Reece, by the way. Reece Sanchez. This is my frat house. We’re kind of known for this stuff around here.”
Amelia wanted to do anything else but have this conversation. “Oh yeah?”
Reece propped himself up on the wall, stretching his arm out. The sweat stains in his armpit blocked her exit and she put the beer bottle to her lips while looking for another way out.
“You come here alone?” he asked.
“Nope.” She didn’t want to know what Josh would do if he saw her talking to another guy. She needed to be as blunt and short as possible, but Reece was already a few beers in and either didn’t get the message or ignored it entirely. “So I really should be going, Reece,” she said.
Reece only smiled. “Can I get you another beer? Looks like you’re almost empty.”
Amelia’s eyes darted up and down the hall. “I’m good, really. You shouldn’t be talking to me.”
Reece laughed, confused. “What?” Then a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and ripped him backward. Josh.
Fear cut through Amelia like a hot knife. She didn’t want Reece to get hurt.
“Hey, man. Easy there!” Reece said, his eyes soft and dazed. Josh looked downright scary. She’d never seen anything like it before, like a wolf standing over his recent kill. But if Josh was a wolf, Reece was a golden retriever. He wasn’t looking for a fight. Like the flip of a switch, Josh held up his hands, placatingly, and smiled, his entire face changing in an instant. There was the handsome, charming guy everyone knew.
“This your girl?” Reece asked.
“Yeah, she is.” Even though his expression had softened, Josh’s eyes were still hard.
Amelia swooped in. She put on a smile, took Josh by the hand, smiled at him. “Let’s go.” She glanced at Reece, a warning in her eyes. “Nice meeting you, Reece Sanchez.” Then she led Josh away.
“My prince charming,” she said, putting a sparkle in her eye. “Here to save the day.”
Josh seemed to like that. He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
AMELIA
Amelia’s plan centered around lying and spying. The only way she could keep track of Josh’s movements was to secretly watch his phone. She highly doubted he would keep evidence of what he’d done to Mignon on there, but it was a huge part of her plan moving forward. If she ever wanted to get to the truth, she needed to play by different rules.
She got an opportunity to install spyware she’d developed when he was in the shower one bright Saturday afternoon. They’d just gotten back from the zoo on a double date with Tori and Derek, and both of them had already taken up spots on the couch in the living room after being on their feet all day.
“Should we order some pizza?” Tori asked. “I’m too tired to move.”
“You read my mind,” Derek said.
Josh stretched his arms over his head. “You guys order whatever you want, I need to take a shower.”
Amelia waited, not paying attention as Derek placed the call, instead listening for the shower running.
Quickly, she got up and hurried to Josh’s room. Munch was the only creature there, curled up near his pillow, and she picked up his phone from his nightstand and sat at the edge of his bed. The shower was still going, but she had only a few minutes.
She tapped in his code to unlock his phone and then she installed the executable, her heart in her throat the entire time. She was good at this, she’d been coding for years, and still she wondered if it would work. The software would hide in plain sight, active only when she opened the app on her end, recording everything he did so she could watch in real time. In any other circumstance, it was a huge violation of privacy. But nothing about this was ordinary. If Tori did something like this on Derek’s phone, it would be grounds for a breakup. If Josh found out, he might kill her, and then all of this, everything she’d done, would be for nothing.
The app took a while to download, and she watched the little circle fill up with bated breath.
“What are you doing?”
She jolted at Josh’s voice. He was standing in the doorway with only a towel covering his lower half, looking at her with a curious knit in his brow. She’d been too focused on the download; she hadn’t heard the water shut off.
“I didn’t mean—” She put the phone facedown on his bed. It needed more time to install.
“I know what it looks like.”
Her heart hammered as he stepped into his room, the smell of his musky shower gel overwhelming her. She looked at him with doleful eyes, under her lashes as she’d practiced so many times before. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Do you think I’m cheating on you?” he asked.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she said, going with a lie of his own creation.
He padded toward her, surrounded by a cloud of steam and shaving cream, and took his phone from the bed. She watched with wide eyes, her heart hammering painfully, but he looked at the screen and then at her, smiling, amused, patronizing. He set his phone on his nightstand, screen up. From her spot on the bed, she could see that the app had finished downloading. Everything looked normal, as it should.
“How can I prove to you that you’re the only one I care about?” he asked, lowering himself toward her. He towered over her, his playful smile filling up her entire vision.
“I don’t know, joshreuter,” she said, slipping into a smile of her own, matching his. If she could drool venom, she would. “Would you ever lie to me?”
Josh chuckled at that and stepped away. He went to his closet, where he picked out a zip-up to put on. “Never,” he said, and winked.
Liar. Liar liar liar liar! She smirked. “How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve such karma?”
He smiled at her again.
“You’re right. This is all my fault. I’m so paranoid. I need a vacation . . . Hey, I have an idea. Let’s take a trip together, you and me. We can film a real travel vlog for the channel while finally going someplace new, together.”
“You know how I feel being on camera . . .”
“Afraid, are we?” She used his pride against him.
“Not in the slightest. But a vacation doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Especially if I have you all to myself.”
Amelia’s spine went stiff.
He leaned in, swooping down for a kiss, and she let him. When they broke apart, he smiled at her again. “Where do you want to go?” His gaze fixated on her lips, then bounced back up to her eyes.
He liked the mystery of her, an allure of unknowability, and it worked like bait.
She pretended to think for a moment, tapping her finger on her lip. “Someplace magical, someplace romantic, someplace unforgettable. Rome.”
PART 7
GHOSTS
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AMELIA
Amelia left her stomach on the ground as the plane took off. She was almost certain she was going to puke, but she was Amelia Ashley, and Amelia Ashley wasn’t afraid of flying. Just as Mignon wasn’t. Traveling to Paris and Rome had been Mignon’s dream. And now Amelia was living it. She swallowed her fear down and closed her eyes, counting backward by seven from a thousand.
On the outside, she had a veneer of tranquility. Josh sat on one side, Mignon’s ghost on the other. “Don’t do this,” Mignon whispered in her ear.
“There’s no turning back,” she murmured.
Josh thought she was talking to him and he turned to smile at her. “That’s right. What’s the Peter Pan line you always quote?”
“Second star to the right and straight on ’til morning,” she said. Fourteen days to go.
Mignon followed her to the catacombs, standing among the skulls and bones of the underground cathedral, watching Amelia dance the night away with Josh. “I’m dead, Amelia. You’re not. It’s not too late.”
Amelia twirled round and round in Josh’s arms, his skull mask bone-white in the pulsing lights. Ten days to go.
Sarah Speck’s house was bigger than she ever imagined. She felt a slight pang of guilt to be using her this way, but it needed to be done, like squeezing pus from a wound. It would hurt, but it was necessary.
“Do we really have to stay here?” Josh asked. “Can’t we just go to the hotel early?”
“It’s a free place to sleep, no complaining.”
Josh sighed, and rolled his eyes. Pouting was an ugly look on him. She grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him in close. “You’ll have me all to yourself later.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled, then shoved him back, a playful push. “Now hold the camera. I want to vlog.” Five days to go.
Dinner at Sarah’s was loud and fun, which was normally the case when someone like Sarah Speck was involved. Amelia partook of the wine that was served with dinner, almost forgetting what she was there for. Almost.
She could feel Josh’s eyes on her, watching from across the table, as Alex Ciupa reached over and grabbed the bread basket from in front of her plate.
“Pardon my reach,” he said, flashing her a charming grin.
“Reach away,” she said. Her face felt hot, and her smile came naturally. It wasn’t Amelia Ashley’s smile, but hers now. Alex was someone she would have liked to know in her real life. If that even existed anymore. The wine was making her lose focus. She was doing this for Mignon, not for anyone else, and she tricked herself into thinking she was having fun for real. Guilt bled into her gut.
Josh took a long sip of his wine, his eyes glassy but his gaze sharp as it lingered on the charismatic journalist.
She’d almost gone the whole day without seeing Mignon, but she appeared now, standing behind him, shaking her head.
She’d been foolish to think she could ever escape the way Josh looked at her. Four days to go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
AMELIA
After dinner, Amelia returned to their guest room and went to the bathroom to get a glass of water. She downed half of it in one gulp, washing the taste of wine away, and water dribbled out of the corners of her mouth. She had never had wine before, and she hoped no one had noticed. It had gone to her head so quickly and she wanted to go to bed, but she couldn’t.
She turned on the faucet in the tub and let the running water drown out the thoughts rushing through her head. This whole trip had unfolded exactly as she’d planned, with the exception of the guests at Sarah’s house. Alex Ciupa and company were eyewitnesses that she needed, but the more time she spent with Josh the more doubt started to creep in.
In the mirror, Mignon stood next to her, her back pressed up against the wall, same as Amelia, her gaze locked on Amelia’s own.
“You might be wrong about Josh,” Mignon said. “You don’t know if he killed me. Or if I’m even dead.”
“No,” Amelia said. “I know he did it. He’s guilty.” She braced herself on the sink, head bowed low. Her head felt too light from the wine, and it made the rest of her body feel too heavy.
Mignon shook her head. “You don’t know anything. You don’t have any proof.”
Here was the face of the person she trusted most in the whole world, and she was saying things that Amelia didn’t even want to consider. She’d been so focused on her plan, she couldn’t make room for any hesitation. Hesitation would mean failure, and she could not fail. It was not an option.
“You have nothing,” Mignon said.
Doubt was a nasty sensation. It made the bathroom collapse around her, growing smaller with each passing second, and the more she breathed, the closer the walls got.
“Josh is the obvious suspect,” Amelia said, eyes narrowing. “He did it. He was the last one to see you alive.”
“What if you’re ensnaring an innocent person? What if I went for a walk and fell? What if I was kidnapped by a stranger? What if I really did run off, and what if I never loved you enough to come back? What if I killed myself—”
