It wasn’t until later that he’d read the words that had been printed on the paper. Meet me in the woods. It hadn’t taken all that much effort on his part to connect the handwriting to the person who had written it. But like his pocketing the scrap of paper, he hadn’t told anyone, especially the marshal.
Until he’d returned here, he wasn’t sure he’d planned to do anything with what he knew. He stared down at the ground, remembering exactly what she’d looked like lying there. Often when he couldn’t sleep, he imagined her eyes, unfocused, her slack face, her skin already draining of color. He’d memorized her dead face and put it in a special place in his brilliant brain.
Instead of haunting his dreams, the image gave him peace. Death didn’t scare him. Megan didn’t scare him. Nothing did anymore.
That young boy he’d been hadn’t feared Megan. It was what she’d unlocked in him that terrified him. His parents had seen his genius and ignored the rest. They knew there was something inherently wrong with him. He’d seen the alarm at what they realized they had created. Megan had brought out a dark side of him, and he’d liked it.
At the sound of a twig snapping somewhere in the darkness, he turned. For a moment, he couldn’t make out the approaching shape, but he didn’t have to. He knew exactly who it was. Like him, this person knew where to come. The scene of the crime.
“I was beginning to wonder if you would show up,” Claude said, even though he couldn’t yet see the killer in the deep shadow of the trees. He could feel Megan’s twisted malevolence in him, thrumming in his bloodstream, just under his skin. He hadn’t been able to handle it as a teenager. It was too powerful. But he was ready now. He heard another twig break, off to his left, but he ignored it. He felt invincible and realized that, right now, he was actually glad that he’d come back here. This was where it had to end.
THE BIGGER THEY ARE, the harder they fall. The words came out in singsong bursts on hot, hurried breaths as, deep under the hotel, the explosives were placed in the boreholes along the structural outer walls for maximum effect.
Dynamite was the explosive of choice. Simply absorbent stuffing soaked in a highly combustible chemical, once the chemical was ignited, it would burn quickly, producing a large volume of hot gas that would expand and apply immense outward pressure.
The powerful shock wave would bust through the columns at supersonic speed, shatter the concrete into tiny chunks. The secret was spreading the explosive devices throughout. Then setting them off like knocking over dominoes. Boom...boom...boom as the explosions raced around the hotel’s footprint, and the building imploded.
It had taken some calculation. A person had to be smart when working with this much firepower. One wrong move and it could blow up too soon. But if done correctly, the explosions would accomplish what had to be done.
The hotel wouldn’t just be brought down; it would be turned to dust—including anyone in it. Ultimately every secret would be erased. Nothing could come back to haunt the guilty or destroy the innocent. The Crenshaw Hotel would be gone and eventually forgotten.
Just like misdeeds.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Soon. Very soon.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Saturday
WHEN FINN WALKED into the hotel kitchen the next morning, he overheard Jen telling Shirley about Megan’s car wreck that Jason had related to her the night before. The story shouldn’t have shocked him, given what he now knew about Megan.
The two women left as he entered. But he’d heard enough that when Jason came in right behind him, he demanded, “Is it true? Megan killed someone?”
Jason rolled his eyes. “I knew I shouldn’t say anything to Jen, of all people.”
“How do you know Megan was driving the car?” Finn demanded.
Jason sighed. “Because she admitted it to me. She was really drunk and scared, and she told me about the car wreck. Some of her friends were hurt, and one of them was killed.”
“Megan swore she wasn’t driving. That’s what she told the cops. She said her friend had taken the keys from her. The one who died was driving.”
Shaking his head, Jason helped himself to a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. “Megan lied. She was really upset because she’d lied to everyone, including the police, and had gotten away with it, except now she believed that someone was stalking her, determined to make her pay for what she’d done.”
Finn stared at him, feeling the truth at gut level. “She was driving.”
He nodded. “She was apparently upset and driving too fast after a party. Two girls were in the back, passed out. The girl who died was in the front and trying to get her to slow down. Holly, right? Holly had unsnapped her seat belt and was trying to get out when she thought Megan was going to stop at an intersection. Instead, Megan sped through it and then missed a curve in the road. Megan was upset over some boy she’d wanted to hook up with at the party, but he was with some girl who’d gotten to him first.”
Finn took a breath and let it out slowly. He poured himself a cup of coffee, his hands shaking. Megan had lied. Not just to him, but the cops, her parents, everyone. “Surely, if that’s true, the cops would have realized who was driving.”
Jason shook his head. “None of them were wearing seat belts. After the car rolled and some of them were thrown clear, it was hard to tell who was driving. Holly was dead and couldn’t deny the story. The two in the back couldn’t, either. Megan said she was lucky she hadn’t been killed
