Chapter 127: Julian Fletcher Actually Didn’t Die

Chapter 127: Chapter 127: Julian Fletcher Actually Didn’t Die

Ash lay in the interrogation chair, his face covered in blood. He was laughing, blood trickling from his mouth.

He gazed weakly at the ceiling and spoke with a laugh. "I’m free... I’m finally free."

Zeke Shaw stood nearby, having lost control, his hands bloody.

He had struck Ash.

It was as if Ash knew he was going to die.

Zeke Shaw had only punched him once, yet he was already coughing up blood...

Ash died. He stopped breathing before the paramedics could even arrive.

Zeke Shaw stood frozen, completely numb. In that moment, he finally understood... Ash had intentionally provoked him.

He had deliberately made him strike out.

He was determined to die.

The surveillance cameras had captured Zeke Shaw striking Ash. It was a clear case of a violent interrogation.

Zeke Shaw would be implicated and disciplined. He’d be suspended, forced to halt all his current work. Once he was off the case, the investigation would stall indefinitely, making it easier for the killer pulling the strings to strike again.

And Ash was merely a sacrifice.

"He... He said he was next." As Ash’s body was taken away by paramedics and other officers, Zeke Shaw stepped out of the interrogation room. He lit a cigarette, his fingers trembling. "That bastard predicted we... would find Erin Whittaker. She was never his intended target."

Asher’s grip on my hand tightened. He lowered his gaze, saying nothing.

He had figured it out, but it was too late.

"The one who was meant to die was Ash..." Zeke Shaw had discovered a terrifying truth. "The murderers are both killers and victims."

’What does that mean?’ I was confused.

"Ash said he wasn’t actually asleep that year. He heard a commotion and looked out the window. He saw them trick Asher and Charlie, lock them in a room, and then set it on fire. He didn’t tell a teacher. He just hid back under his covers, trembling."

Ash never expected the fire to spread through the entire floor, trapping him and the others in their dorm as well.

So many people died in that fire.

"He was traumatized, so he wanted revenge on the people who started the fire. He admitted to being the one behind a few of the sexual assaults. In that moment, I let my anger get the best of me..."

Zeke Shaw hung his head, staring at his blood-stained hands.

It was as if his brain had just crashed.

"This isn’t your fault," Madeline Quinn said in a soothing voice.

Zeke Shaw shook his head. "He refused to name the person pulling the strings—he wouldn’t even admit someone else was involved. But he is definitely not the mastermind."

Asher spoke quietly as well. "Not the mastermind. He was just a pawn, and one who was always meant to die in this game."

"Is it possible... that some of the previous victims were also perpetrators?" I asked quietly. "That they planned their own deaths as part of it? Like in that movie we once saw, *The Perfect Victim*?"

’We’ve been investigating for so long, and so has Zeke Shaw. We’ve been heading in the right direction, so why can’t we find the killer?’

’The three different people we saw in the video... could they already be dead? Could they be among the victims?’

My words seemed to jolt Zeke Shaw. He snapped his head up to look at me. "Yes... You’re right!"

Zeke Shaw shot to his feet, took a deep drag from his cigarette, and rushed toward the archives, intent on continuing the investigation.

But as soon as word of Ash’s death got out, an order came down from above. Zeke Shaw was to be temporarily suspended and taken off the case.

Zeke Shaw was still in his office, arguing loudly with his superior. The sound of his hand slamming the desk echoed down the empty hallway.

I glanced at Asher. He seemed to be filled with guilt and self-blame.

I squeezed his hand. "Asher... this has nothing to do with you."

Asher glanced at me, then pulled me into his embrace.

"Ma’am, we have news from the hospital," my contact called to say. "Julian Fletcher is not out of the woods yet, but he’s stable for now. They’ve moved him to the ICU for observation. He’s going to live."

Julian Fletcher wasn’t dead, but he hadn’t woken up, either.

I stood numbly in the courtyard, turning to look at Madeline Quinn.

Madeline Quinn was worried about Zeke Shaw, pacing back and forth anxiously.

Finally, Zeke Shaw emerged. His face was dark, radiating palpable anger.

He ignored Madeline Quinn, ignored me, and completely ignored Asher.

He stormed past us, got into his car, and slammed the door with a loud BANG.

Madeline Quinn took two steps after him. "Why is he so damn stubborn?"

With one hand in his pocket, Asher grabbed the back of my collar with the other and yanked me into his arms, as if afraid Zeke Shaw might impulsively run over my toes.

"Stubborn as a mule!" Madeline Quinn cursed, standing her ground. But then she turned to Zane, her expression worried. "Ash’s death wasn’t Lowell’s fault. He..."

"But Lowell’s punch is what caused his death," Zane said, his voice laced with concern. "If they decide to press charges, Lowell... I’m afraid he won’t be able to keep his job this time."

Madeline Quinn froze, her voice tense. "Is... is it really that serious? Ash was clearly provoking him on purpose, it was obvious..."

"This was part of their plan," Asher murmured in my ear.

’Zeke Shaw’s disciplinary action hasn’t been decided yet. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up in jail himself. He’s almost certainly going to lose his job on the force.’

I stood there in a daze, feeling for the first time the visceral terror of the mastermind behind the killings.

A chill ran down my spine. I felt as if countless eyes were watching us, as if invisible strings were attached to my back.

To a genius like that, ordinary people like us are just marionettes.

They can manipulate and control us at will.

They can kill whenever they want, cost a police officer his job, and ensure Zeke Shaw can never again participate in this murder investigation.

’He’s too smart.’

He used a dying Ash to provoke Zeke Shaw into making a fatal mistake, and then... he successfully eliminated him from the board.

My fingertips grew cold. My fear of the unknown, of this brilliant and powerful mind, reached its peak.

’Compared to an absolute genius, I’m just the dumbest of the dumb.’

’No better than an ant.’

"Asher... he’s terrifying." ’The person behind all this is truly terrifying.’

Asher’s arms around me tightened, his eyes deepening. "Then... we have to be more terrifying than him."

"Don’t be afraid, Cece. I’ll always be here."

...

By the time we got back to the hospital, Julian Fletcher had already been moved to the ICU. Erin Whittaker was with Mrs. Fletcher, and both were sobbing.

"The heavens look after the good. Julian will wake up," Erin Whittaker said, wiping away her tears.

"Mrs. Fletcher, you were just discharged yourself. You should go home and rest," Erin Whittaker urged. "Don’t worry. I’ll stay here."

Mrs. Fletcher swayed on her feet. She wanted to stay, but she was clearly exhausted. She finally nodded and allowed a nurse to help her leave.

As she passed Asher and me, Mrs. Fletcher glared at us. "You’re not welcome here. Get out!"

I said nothing, clenching my fists.

Once Mrs. Fletcher had gone, I frowned at Erin Whittaker.

Erin Whittaker stared at Julian Fletcher through the ICU window. "Silvia Lynch," she said in a low voice, "don’t you want to have a little chat?"

’So she’s finally getting to the point.’

’The secrets she promised to tell me over the phone.’

"She doesn’t," Asher said, watching Erin Whittaker warily. His arm tightened around me.

Erin Whittaker sneered. "Silvia Lynch, if you lie down with beasts, you’ll be devoured completely."

Then, Erin’s gaze shifted to Asher. "Asher, what are you so afraid of? Are you afraid Silvia will find out your secrets about Cecilia Caldwell? You treat her like she’s Cecilia, but she’s not! A fake is always a fake."

Asher’s eyes darkened. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

For a moment, I had the distinct impression that he wanted to lunge forward and tear Erin Whittaker to pieces.