Page 77 of Madness & Mayhem

I tilt my chin up. “Yes.”

He nods, though it’s already been a fact.

“How many murders have you committed?”

I lift a brow. “In my life, or in Hellcrest Heights?”

That has him pausing, and he chews on the inside of his cheek before his eyes narrow. “Are they two different numbers, Mr. Whitmore?”

I shrug. “Could be.”

His eyes narrow further. “How about we start with the number in Hellcrest Heights.”

“Ten.”

He blows out a breath as he writes down the number seven and circles it.

“Who is Lakyn Ashford to you?” he asks after a beat.

This has my mouth clamping up.

He flips to a new sheet of paper, tapping his pen in the center. “Like I said, Mr. Whitmore, I have all night.”

I lean forward, the shackles clanking together. “I’m not answering any questions about her. Next.”

His head tilts to the side. “And why not?”

“Because she’s off-limits,” I growl through gritted teeth.

He sighs. “If you don’t give me anything to go off of, you won’t be cooperating much.”

I shrug. “I don’t care. She’s off-limits.”

He stares at me just as heavily as I stare at him. Finally, after too many minutes, he nods.

“Tell me a little bit about the murders,” he says.

I stare at him, wondering how much I should divulge. It doesn’t seem I’ll be getting out of here. Not with all the deaths they have on me. Do I spill everything, or do I keep my mouth closed?

I guess only time will tell.

Clank.

The jail cell closes, and I’m once again locked in a cage. It’s been years since I’ve been in jail, and yet it doesn’t feel like I’ve been away from it for more than a day. Once you’ve been in one jail cell, it seems like you’ve been in them all.

“Hey.” The voice comes from across the hall, and I lift my head, staring into the cell across from me.

A guy who looks to be in his late twenties stares at me, tattoos traveling from his neck up the side of his face. “You’re him, aren’t you?”

I sit down on the small cot, turning my head toward the wall. “Who am I?” I mutter.

“The slasher. You’re the guy from Hellcrest Heights who was murdering all those people.”

I narrow my eyes, turning my head toward his. I don’t say a word, but I don’t have to.

How does he know?

“Everyone knows about the manhunt that was going on looking for you, and then word was they caught you. I can tell a murderer from a mile away, and boy, your hands look covered in blood.”