him to show me photos of the crime scenes. Photos no member of the public had seen before.”
“The way the bones were arranged made you remember Max?” Josie suggested.
Trinity looked back at her. “It wasn’t that simple. Not exactly. It wasn’t like I had this big epiphany. There was just something about the way the bones were displayed that got under my skin. I felt like there was something important that I was missing, something I should remember. I had no idea what it was or why I would feel that way about a serial killer case I knew so little about.”
“So you started digging through Drake’s files.”
Trinity frowned. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. It was so wrong on so many levels, the least of which the fact that we were lovers and I betrayed his trust.” Again, her gaze shifted to Drake, a wistful look on her face. He must have felt her eyes on him because he looked up at her. A grin broke across his face.
“I think he’s forgiven you,” Josie said.
Trinity sighed. “He’s too good for me.”
Josie reached across and touched her sister’s arm lightly, drawing her focus back. “Or maybe he’s just right. Once you had the files, then what?”
“I followed the path: the killer’s need for symmetry; the male/female symbols; the Codie Lash connection; the Bobbi/Robert Ingram clue; then the mirror victims. When I read the report about the avian scavengers, it all clicked into place for me. That day in the woods when I saw Max messing with the bones—he’d been trying them out in different arrangements. I’d seen him make those symbols. And I realized he might be the Bone Artist. On the one hand, it seemed like such a long shot, but on the other, if I was right, it could be the biggest story of my career.”
“So you tried to make contact with him by wearing Codie Lash’s comb in your hair? How did you know he’d be watching?”
“I didn’t. It was a shot in the dark. I thought it was a lost cause. I wore the comb in that piece on the missing girls case, a week went by, and nothing happened.”
“That was why you told Patrick that your big lead had fallen through.”
“Yes,” Trinity agreed. “But then the comb arrived here at your house. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t put you and Noah in jeopardy. So I left and rented the cabin.”
“You could have told us,” Josie said. “We would have helped you.”
“By taking over. You would never have let me try to make contact again.”
“By keeping you safe, Trinity. You don’t always have to put your life on the line for a big story.” Before Trinity could protest, Josie continued, “The comb arrived here. You left and rented the cabin. You stayed there for a week, and then you decided to go back to New York? Why?”
“I thought he wouldn’t be able to find me. I thought if I went back to New York, he would know where to find me. But as I was leaving, he pulled up into the driveway. I was already in my car. Ready to drive off. Then he was there. As soon as he got out of the truck, I knew I had been right about him.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No,” Trinity said. “He told me he wanted me to tell his story.”
“He didn’t drug you?” Josie asked.
She shook her head. “Only once… I knew that he always kidnapped a mirror and he had been asking me questions about you during our ‘sessions’. I suspected he was going to take you. I tried to escape…”
“How?”
“I acted really sick. I told him he had to get me help. He told me there was a small veterinarian hospital on the property and it had medicine. He wanted to take me there. I just had to get out of the house. I acted weak, like I had to lean on him just to walk. As soon as we got outside, I ran. I went right for the truck but he caught up with me. He must have known that I might have been faking because he had a needle in his pocket. He stabbed it into my leg and I started to feel woozy. I went right down. There I was lying next to the truck—I wasn’t even on the damn driver’s side—and he was pacing back and forth talking about how he needed me to write his story and how I shouldn’t run because he hadn’t done anything to hurt me. I knew I was going to pass out, and I looked up and saw someone had written Wash Me on the door of the truck. That gave me the idea to write my own message.”
“But you couldn’t write words,” Josie said. “He would have noticed that right away.”
“Yes,” Trinity said. “I had to use shorthand. I had already left you the message to read my diary because I thought if you had his name and age, you’d be able to find him. But I didn’t know if you’d be able to find the diary. I was on the verge of blacking out so I just scrawled the movie name on the door. I hoped that when he came for you, you’d see it somehow. I had no way of knowing if you would or not or if you’d even get away from him. I’m so sorry, Josie.”
Josie smiled at her. “That was smart. You did well.”
“I was an idiot, Josie,” Trinity argued. “I did so many stupid, reckless things. I want you to know that I’m truly sorry. For everything. I shouldn’t have gone off on my own. I should have asked for help. I—”
“Stop,” Josie said. “You don’t need to apologize.”
Trinity’s brows shot up. “Really? Cause what I did was messed up and dangerous and irresponsible and—”
Josie reached across the table and covered one of Trinity’s hands with her own, silencing her. “I will always come for you, do you understand?”
Trinity’s eyes filled with tears. They’d both been crying a lot in the last week. “Josie,” she whispered.
“I will always follow you into any hell that you get yourself into, do you understand?”
Biting her bottom lip, Trinity nodded.
“There’s something I need to tell you. I read your diary.”
“I know,” Trinity said. “You were supposed to. It’s okay.”
Josie smiled. “Yes, but there’s something you need to know. Remember the fight that got you into trouble? The one that landed you in community service?”
“Oh, yes, at the school trip? I know, I sounded crazy, saying that I met you. You have to understand how messed up I was then. My nana had just died. I was getting bullied mercilessly at school. I just needed something to hold onto. The idea of you—it was just—”
“That was me,” Josie said.
Trinity’s face lost two shades of color. “Wh-what?”
“It was me. I dragged Beverly off you and elbowed Melanie in the face.”
“But how?”
“There were schools there from all over, remember? I was there with a bunch of freshmen from Denton East that day. Beverly was a notorious troublemaker in our class. Believe me, it wasn’t the first time or the last time I got into it with her. Lisette can vouch for that. She moved away right before senior year, thank God. In fact… ” Josie stood and wrestled a long piece of fabric from her jacket pocket. She deposited the teal scarf onto the table between them.
“Oh my God, Josie.” Trinity touched it reverently.
Josie said, “Lisette gave it to me shortly after she won custody of me. I used to wear it all the time—even when it didn’t match my clothes. Then, during sophomore year of high school, I spilled something on it and decided to put it away so I didn’t ruin it.”
Trinity looked up at her. “Josie, this is—I can’t believe this—this means that—”
Josie smiled. “You did meet me that day.”
Trinity wiped more tears from her eyes. “You were there. You were there when I needed you.”
“I was there.”