Page 145 of The Grave Artist

There was no Bronco, and no burro either. There was nothing in the shed but trash, a three-legged table and a washing machine that had spun its last load a decade ago. This property was as abandoned as property could be.

She squatted and looked down, studying him.

Damon groaned and tried to sit. Impossible.

He gazed at her, disbelief in his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

“What the hell, Maddie?”

“Madison,” she corrected, then enunciated the word slowly, changing the pronunciation, emphasizing each component. “Mad-eyes-on, get it?”

He blinked. “No.”

“There have been eyes on you, Damon. My mad eyes. Watching you.” She smiled. “And the last name, Willis. That comes out to Will-is. Mywill isfor you to die.”

“What the fuck?”

She saw fear creeping into his expression and laughed. Tormenting him was delicious.

“So that’s not my real name. But the pun just came to me, and I went with it. ‘Mad.’ Although maybeI’mperfectly sane and theworld’sgone mad. Since a person, athinglike you, is part of that world.”

He looked her over with an expression that was both contemptuous and wounded. “Okay, you racked your brain and came up with something clever. Good. There’s a reason. Please ...” His voice cracked. “Please, help me out. We can talk this through.”

“Partly right. I’ll talk. You listen.”

His expression changed to one of bewilderment as he tried to piece it together. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. The moment when she could finally speak her truth.

When she could confront the monster.

His brows drew together. “But why are you doing this?”

“Notice I hit you over the head with a rock?”

He simply stared.

“Because that’s what you did to my brother when you murdered him last Saturday.” She leaned in close. “My real name is Lauren Brock.”

Chapter 70

Jake wasn’t great at delivering bad news, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided.

Like now.

Sanchez, who had lifted her cell phone to her ear, lowered it. “I know that look,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

Selina was standing beside her older sister. Both women gave him their full attention.

He checked his tablet one more time. Nothing had changed in the last two seconds. “I just linked up with the SHIT detail. Lauren Brock was moving south-southeast from Tarzana.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide. “Near the Spalding house. When?”

“About twenty minutes ago, she pulled into a parking lot and picked up a passenger.”

Sanchez narrowed her gaze. “Did this passenger happen to match Damon’s description?”

“Yes. Well, Sanchez, you read it right. Lauren does have something going on.”