I can sense his reluctance to finish his thought.
“The worst-case scenario is that we put this all on you.” He turns and walks away.
Chapter 11
____◊____
THE RAIN HAS PASSED. I’m not allowed to leave for another two hours. That’s how long it takes forensics to wipe down and analyze my car for evidence, from the tires outside to under the seats inside. When Paige and I settle into the car, it still reeks of isopropyl alcohol and the metallic powder residue.
Before I pull away, Sergeant Ortiz leans in through the passenger window and comes face-to-face with Paige. My car is so small he has to take a knee to look inside. I can see his surprise when he realizes the steering wheel is on the wrong side.
He shifts his attention to me. “Detective Resnick wanted me to remind you that you are not to leave the county without letting us know.”
I’m aware of the drill and thank the officer for his help this evening. He points down the street to the edge of the cordoned-off area. “The officers will open a path for you to leave. Drive slowly, because there are a lot of journalists and paparazzi out there tonight.”
“Paparazzi?” Paige asks.
“Yeah,” he says, resigned. “Some idiot called in a fake report that a reality TV star was here tonight. Now we have to deal with this shit, too. Be safe.”
With that, he taps the roof of my car, and I’m good to go. As instructed, I drive slowly toward the police line, where a horde of people with video and still cameras shine lights in my direction. The police open a narrow path, and I cautiously make my way through it.
I have never had such a hard time seeing in my life. The lights are oppressively bright and sear into my retinas. Flashes pop off in rapid succession, creating a strobe effect. Video lights follow my progress as my car inches forward. Paige looks away, but I have to be careful not to hit any one of the dozens of pedestrians who press into my car. Once I’m finally past the last of them, I speed up. It’s still night outside, and the stark contrast from blinding lights to darkness takes getting used to.
My Mini cruises through downtown for a few blocks before Paige finally asks, “What happened tonight?”
I tell her about everything—the owl, Lupe’s dead body, Santa Muerte, the fact that Santa Muerte knows the demon’s name.
“Holy shit. Holy shit! This could be it!” She’s excited now. “If you get the name, you can exorcise it. You need to tell Father Ramon!”
I don’t say anything. I just park and turn off the engine.
“Darcy?” she asks, but I don’t respond. I start crying. My eyes are closed. Paige’s arms wrap around me, trying to comfort me… trying to console me… trying to understand why I’m suddenly distraught.
I am at a complete loss of control as my crying intensifies. The sobs come out like barks, and my body convulses. My mind races through thoughts of regret, sadness, and torment. And guilt.
When the guilt hits, the tears come harder and faster. As much as I feel saddened by the deaths of Lupe and Roger, I’m not crying for any of them. I’m crying because of Bennet.
* * *
“What time is it?” I ask Paige once the tears have stopped and I’m finally breathing normally again.
“Four a.m.,” she says, looking at her phone.
I’ve been crying for a solid half hour. The windows of my car have fogged up completely, diffusing the city lights. I wipe the last of my tears and lean back in my seat. I would have thought that after all of that, I’d be exhausted. But I’m past that point of being tired, and I still have four cups of midnight coffee coursing through my veins.
Paige sits there quietly. I know she wants to understand what’s going on in my mind but is willing to give me space and time to talk about it. But there’s really no good way to ever bring this up.
“Did I ever tell you how Bennet died?”
Paige is taken aback. “You never told me exactly how. You told me it happened when Dudley had control.”
In the three years we’ve been friends, Paige has never probed for the gruesome details, which I appreciate, because the truth is much more complicated than I ever revealed. “That’s not… entirely true.”
Paige does her best to maintain her poker face. I take a deep breath and shudder from the cold and the anguish. “When I was possessed and they had brought me home, Bennet wouldn’t leave my room. Nearly that entire time, he stayed with me. God only knows what he heard and saw, but he never left.”
My stomach turns.
“That last exorcism, the priests told him he couldn’t be in my room. So he stood outside my door. I can picture him standing guard outside my bedroom on the upper landing of our house. We had a beautiful house. It was one of those old post-war colonial houses with the old wrought-iron fence all the way around—a two-story house, three if you counted the attic.
“Bennet and I used to love sneaking out of the windows at night to climb on the roof and look up at the stars. There was practically no light pollution in Malbrook, so the sky was filled with stars. I haven’t seen so many since I left home.”
I think back, remembering how one time we snuck out with soda and snacks so we could watch the Perseid meteor shower. We stayed up all night and were so tired the next day that we both ditched school so we could sleep.
“Darcy?”
Paige is looking at me, and I realize I zoned out for a while. “Sorry.”
“Why are you telling me about the roof of your house?”
“Because that’s where I killed him.”
Paige covers her mouth with her hand.
It scares me to tell her this. Despite everything we’ve been through, I still have
