Though, I guess acted was the key word there.
"The community center acting classes. You've taken a few already," I said.
She chuckled and curtsied. "I'm pretty good too, huh?" She put a blank look on her face. Then suddenly took a shuddering breath like she'd been crying. "I just don't know what I'll do without him," she mocked. Then she let out a sob. Ending with a sneer that said she could turn it on and off at the drop of a hat.
I felt my stomach knot. She'd played me the whole time. And I'd bought it. "The tears were all fake," I said, anger at having been duped starting to chase some of the shake from my voice.
She smiled and shrugged. "Not all. I mean, I was kinda sad he'd ruined everything. Things would have been so much easier if I hadn't had to kill him."
"Why?" I asked. While I was honestly curious, I was partly asking to stall for time. Sam, Kyle, and Chase were all just a few yards away. The longer I kept Sophia talking, the better chance someone would get curious, like I had, and come looking for her.
Assuming they'd seen her. She had, after all, made her appearance on my side of the booth.
"Why what?" Sophia asked in response to my question.
"Why kill Connor?"
She cocked her hip to one side, her cloak falling away to reveal her tiny, perfect body in the tiny, perfect costume. "I would think that was painfully obvious to you at this point."
All that was obvious was that I was in serious trouble. I shook my head. "You said you loved him."
"I did!" she said, yelling suddenly.
I glanced behind her, hoping Chase might hear her.
"I loved him, and what did he do to me? Made me a fool!"
I shook my head. "I don't understand. What do you mean, a fool?"
"You know what I mean," she said, shoving the gun at me. "Tyler McGowan."
I blinked at her. "You knew about him?"
She nodded. "I didn't know his name until you talked to me at the memorial. But I knew he existed. The…how did you put it? Colleague who helped Connor."
"The kid who created the game for Connor," I spelled out.
"That phony!" She spat the word out as if it tasted bad. "That posing, lying phony. I can't believe I bought it. That all along I thought he was some genius, some prodigy, and here he was just a hack. A thief!"
"All along…so you knew about what went on at Peak Games too?" I guessed.
She nodded. "Connor told me. At the con. As soon as I arrived I could tell he was upset."
"Because Phoebe had just served him papers," I said, putting it together.
Her eyes cut to mine. "See, I knew you knew too much."
I had known that. I just had pinned the outcome on the wrong woman. "What happened?" I asked.
Sophia drew in a breath, her eyes narrowing as she relived the moment. "I asked him what was wrong."
"What did Connor say?" I asked.
"That Phoebe was suing him for the rights to the game. I told him he could fight it. I mean, clearly she had no proof he'd worked on the game while with her. But that's when he told me the truth. About everything. He said he'd already talked to Pruit, and Pruit said if the lawsuit went forward it would all come out." She shook her head. "Even his sleazy manager knew the truth. But me? He lied to me!"
"That's why you killed him?" I asked, eyes cutting to the entrance door again. Surely Chase must have heard her rising voice by now.
But Sophia scoffed. "Please, as if he's the first guy who ever lied? No. It was what he said next that did him in." The chill in her voice was icy. And menacing. And made me take an involuntary step backward.
"What did he say?" I asked, hearing my voice come out on a shaky whisper again.
"That he was going to come clean."
I hadn't expected that one. "He was?"
She nodded. "He said he'd get ahead of the whole thing by coming out to the press. Telling them that Phoebe had created everything. He was even going to give her credit for Athena's Quest."
"But she didn't create that," I pointed out.
Sophia shrugged. "Yeah, well, Connor wasn't exactly a stickler for the truth now, was he?"
I shook my head.
"But he did know how to spin PR." She sneered. "He said if he gave the strong female woman behind his games the credit she deserved, he could spin the whole thing into some step forward for feminism."
I frowned. I wasn't sure that would have totally worked, however I pictured Connor. He'd seemed young, hip, and charming. Maybe he could have pulled it off.
"I don't get it," I told her. "Why would you kill him over that?"
"Because it would come out that I was a lie!" she yelled, her voice rising again.
"You?"
"Athena!" She gestured to the poster on the wall. "I was his muse! I am the goddess!" she screamed, the gun waving wildly.
I licked my lips, taking one more small step backward until I came up against the wall.
"If everyone knew he was a fraud, what did that make me?" she yelled. "I'd be a laughingstock! A fool! My celebrity brand tainted forever as a fake. I'd be nothing. And Phoebe would suddenly be the star." She paused for a breath. "I couldn't have that happen."
"So you killed Connor." I glanced around the small room that seemed to be growing increasingly smaller and more claustrophobic by the second. "Right here."
She nodded. "He was so proud of his new plan. He didn't even care what it would do to me. You think the film companies were going to want to cast me as Athena if they knew the truth? No. No, it might have salvaged his career, but it would have killed mine. Killed my acting career just as it was getting started."
"And so you killed him," I repeated.
Her icy blue eyes locked on to mine and she nodded, very slowly and deliberately, as if she were playing the scene out in her head. "It was so easy. He turned around to pick up his phone. To call Pruit and tell him the plan. He stood right over there." Her eyes went to the door that led to the storage area where I'd seen the ketchup earlier. "And I grabbed one of his stupid game consoles and I swung." Her lips curled up into an evil smile to rival any Disney villain I'd ever seen. "Swung hard." Her eyes left the spot and pinned me again. "I work out, you know. You have to keep in shape to be a model."
I blinked at her. She was talking about bludgeoning her boyfriend to death in the same breath as her exercise routine.
"Anyway, it was all over so fast." She shrugged. "Then I went to the ladies' room. You know, to wash up." She paused for dramatic effect and scrunched her nose up. "It was a little messy."
I felt ill. She hadn't been in the bathroom when Connor was killed. She'd gone to the restroom to wash the…ketchup off of her hands after killing him. I wondered if anyone else had noticed the ketchup. I guess it all depended on how much ketchup she'd had on her. And honestly? I'd seen fake blood on several costumes at the con that weekend. I couldn't imagine anyone would have looked at her as out of the ordinary. Especially if she'd been acting as nonchalant as she was now.
"You told the police that Connor had been killed while you were in the restroom," I said. Which is why our reconstruction hadn't worked. None of the suspects had killed Connor while Sophia had been in the ladies' room because he'd already been dead. We had been right—someone had lied about their timeline. We just hadn't figured it was the timeline of the dead guy.
"I did," Sophia said. "It was easy enough. I mean, who was going to argue it? I washed up, came back to the booth, walked in, and pretended to find him like that."
Which was, now that she was laying it out for me, very clever. Even if any evidence from the crime scene had been on her still, it would have easily been explained away by her finding Connor's body. Any hairs, fibers, any evidence that she'd been close to Connor was easy to explain away.
She grinned as she watched my face. "Clever, right?" she said, clearly reading my thoughts. "I'm not just a pretty face. I'm pretty smart too."
Smart was one word for it. Psychotic was another. But, I didn't think now
was the time to argue.
Especially with that little gun still pointed so alarmingly steadily at me now.
"How did you know we'd be here at the booth?" I asked. "Did Phoebe tell you?"
She scoffed. "As if I'd talk to that geek. No, I followed you." Her grin widened. "I knew you were getting too close to the truth. So, when you all split up, it seemed like a good opportunity to take care of some loose ends."
Loose ends. That did not bode well for my future.
"So what are you going to do now?" I asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
"Well, obviously you need to go."
The way she said it so easily sent a chill down my spine.
"You c-can't do that," I said, the shake back in my voice with a vengeance.
"No?" she asked, a taunting tone to her words as she looked down at the gun in her hand. "I think I can."
"Someone will find out. You won't get away with this."
"I'm already getting away with it. The cops are idiots."
"No, they're not!" I said, and I hated how the image of Raley flashed into my mind as I got all hot and defensive. "I have friends," I said, trying to find some smidgeon of bravery from deep down. Way deep down at this point. "They're right outside. They're going to come looking for me. They'll hear the gunshot."
But she shook her head. "I don't think so. You mean that adorable little Final Fantasy couple in the back?"
Sam and Kyle. My stomach dropped and I wanted to cry.
"What did you do to them?" I yelled.
"Relax," she said. "I told them you wanted to see them outside. That you had something important to show them."
"And they believed you." It was more of a statement than a question. Because, why would they have any reason to think she was lying?
She nodded. "Cute couple. Kinda gullible."
Which wasn't true, but again, not the time to argue with the homicidal maniac.
"But Chase is right outside too. He'll come looking for me!" I said.
The creepy smile snaked across her features again, marring any of the inherent beauty she possessed and transforming her face into something downright grotesque. She shook her head slowly. "No. He's not right outside."
My breath stopped for a full minute. Or at least it felt that way, every bodily function freezing as my mind shot to one thought. "What did you do to him?!"
She chuckled, though there was no humor in the situation. "Boys. They're so stupid. Show a little skin, and they lose all focus."
"What. Did. You. Do." My fear was slowly being replaced by another emotion. One that felt a lot like rage as I ground the words out at her.
She shrugged again. "Nothing I wouldn't do to my own boyfriend." Her eyes went to the storage room.
I sucked in a breath and felt the world spin. The male voice I'd heard in the booth. The thud. My eyes cut to the storage room, and I took a step toward it.
"Don't move!" Sophia screamed.
My feet stopped all on their own at the threat in her voice. Only they'd gotten me close enough to the room that I could see a pair of black combat boots just inside the door. Presumably attached to legs. That were not moving.
I felt hot tears behind my eyes, desperation bubbling up inside my chest.
"What did you do?" I asked for the third time, only this time it wasn't laced with fear or anger. Just sadness. And loss.
"Oh, come on. Like I could let you snoopy little high school reporters ruin my life?"
My eyes shot up to her at the emphasis on our age.
She laughed. "Uh, yeah, I figured out you weren't real press too. Duh. You're like, twelve."
I should have been insulted by that, but all I could be in that moment was sad. And regretful. I should have left this all to Raley. I should have refused to let Chase dangle himself as bait. I should have stayed home and done my homework like I'd told my mom I would.
Mom.
I felt tears slide down my cheeks. If Mom found out I died at the hands of the person who killed Simon after I promised I wouldn't be around any danger, she'd kill me. I closed my eyes, and I swear it took all I had in me not to whimper for my SMother.
"And now, I think we're done here," Sophia said, a chilling finality in her voice.
I opened my eyes, and through blurry tears I saw her aim the gun at my chest.
She took a step forward.
And I steeled myself for what was about to come next.
Only it wasn't the sharp stab of a bullet ripping through my body.
It was a turtle.
I blinked back the tears and tried to focus.
No, not a turtle. A Squirtle.
And a Pikachu.
A Pikachu that had a large black game console in her hands as her yellow foam limbs lifted it high above her…
And slammed it down.
Right onto Sophia's head.
Or, it would have been her head if Ellen were as tall as a model. As it was, the heavy box hit her in the shoulder of the arm holding the gun.
Sophia let out a sharp cry, the gun fell from her hands and clattered to the floor, and Sophia crumpled into a moaning pile.
Ellen and her date stood there looking totally stunned.
"Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, did I kill her?" Ellen asked, her big brown eyes wide behind her glasses.
I scrambled to pick up the gun, its cool metallic surface feeling foreign and uncomfortable in my hands, knowing what it was capable of. What it had almost done to me.
But I put emotions on the back burner, pointing it at Sophia's form.
"No. She's making too much noise to be dead," Squirtle said. He looked up at me. "Are you okay?"
I shook my head in the negative. "Call 9-1-1," I choked out. My eyes went to the storage room. "And tell them we need an ambulance."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Someone called 9-1-1 (possibly Ellen), someone ran to the storage room to find Chase groaning and holding his head (I think it was me, but it had been hard to see clearly through all the tears clouding my vision), and someone (probably Squirtle) had alerted security that we had a murderer cornered in the VizaSoft booth. Before long, the entire main floor was crawling with security guards, uniformed officers, EMTs, and last but not least, Raley.
Luckily by that point I'd mostly stopped crying and shaking, and I had just finished telling my story to the third police officer in a row who'd asked me what had happened there. I wasn't sure if it was intentional on their part, but every time I told the story, it felt a little more coherent and less hysterical. I'll admit the first one had probably been hard to decipher at all, most of my attention having been on the EMTs who'd immediately descended on Chase, strapping his head to a board in case of possible spinal damage and lifting him onto a gurney. Chase had given me a weak smile and a thumbs-up that had been equally hard to believe. Clearly all was not well. But, he wasn't dead, and his thumbs were working, so that had been something to be thankful for.
So was Ellen's excellent timing.
It turned out that Ellen had felt bad about keeping the fact that she knew Tyler from us. As she'd told me as we'd waited for security to arrive, she hadn't meant to keep it a secret. She was just naturally kind of reserved, but she realized afterward how it looked. She'd wanted to apologize and had gone looking for me just as I'd left the ballroom and she'd spotted me going into the main hall. She and Squirtle had roamed the closing booths for a while before finally hearing a noise from inside the VizaSoft booth. They'd walked in just in time to see the tail end of Sophia's confession and save me from coming to the same fate as Connor.
For which, I would always be grateful, I'd decided as I watched Sophia get handcuffed and put on a second gurney, nursing an injury of her own. Even as I detailed her confession to uniformed officers, I could hear her ranting to whomever would listen that she wasn't guilty and it was all a huge misunderstanding. I wasn't sure her lawyer would have any more luck than she was at making that sound convincing, but
as the crowd from the Pixel Ball slowly made their way toward the center of commotion, I could see lots of people with their phones out, filming her fall from grace. At least she'd get one of her wishes—she was going to be pretty famous by the end of the night. Just maybe not for what she'd hoped.
Some of the very first of the crowd from the Pixel Ball to arrive on the scene had been Sam and Kyle, their faces wearing matching ashen looks of concern as they'd raced toward the crime scene tape. Which was pulling double duty now that the booth was once again the scene of an attack. Sam had tackled me in a linebacker worthy hug and cried how sorry she was that she'd left the booth. Of course I'd told her there was nothing to forgive—it wasn't her fault she'd believed Sophia's lies to lure her away. Heck, in her place, I might have done the same thing.
We were still hugging and both talking at the same time about what had happened when Raley approached the three of us.
"Hartley," he said.
I sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. "Raley."
To my surprise, instead of giving me a lecture about being at a crime scene again, he put a warm hand on my shoulder. "You okay, kid?"
The tender gesture caught me by surprise, and I felt a lump form in my throat again as I answered. "Mostly."
He nodded, a frown of sympathy on his freckled face. "Can you tell me what happened?"
I took in another breath, letting it out on a shaky sigh. "I think so."
And I did, this time leaving nothing out. Which might have been a rookie mistake since I fully expected the entire story to trickle down to Mom in no time, but I felt I owed Raley the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I even confessed to looking at his notes, which morphed his concerned fatherly look into one of anger for a few seconds, but he didn't explode at me. Which I took as a good sign.
"And then Ellen hit her with the gaming console and called you guys," I finished. I licked my lips, watching his stoic expression. "She's not gonna be in any trouble, is she?"
"Ellen?" he asked. He shook his head. "No. From what it sounds like, she acted with appropriate force in the defense of others."
I nodded vigorously, wholeheartedly agreeing. "She saved my life."
Wicked Games (Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries Book 3) Page 17