[ Highest Rank #101 in Mystery/Thriller ]
Time has passed. Things have changed. Isabeth, Benny, and Faith aren't quite the same. They have blood on their hands, a code they honor, and secrets they keep locked away. The Psychopath Maker knows this an...
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"Um." Clayton placed his hand on the stack of folders and begun drumming his fingers. "The wine ya'll ingest the night of Fiona's death had traces of the nightshade known as Scopolia, which produces memory loss. A wine that was purchased with your card."
"My card was stolen. I didn't buy that wine." Alex spoke up. "I don't even drink wine. I can't have alcohol with my medication."
"Interesting of you to say that." Clayton held up his hands with a slight smile on his face. "Because there were seven people there that night but only six wine glasses."
"Okay." Alex's shoulders relaxed and fell back down.
"Alex.... I need you to be completely honest with me." Clayton leaned over the desk. "Why did you kill Fiona?"
"Is this a trick," Alex shook his head.
"No," Clayton assured flipping the top folder open. He pulled out a picture and slid it towards Alex. "This is you isn't it?"
Alex took a moment to look over the picture. A rush of fear ran up his back. "Yes." He inhaled deeply trying to erase any emotion from his words before he spoke, "But I didn't kill her." Alex bounced from his seat and began pacing. "When did you get these? Where?" Alex stopped in his tracks while his stomach still sloshed and gushed like a rabid sea.
"There cameras on the Chamber's property," Clayton informed. "It took us a long time to fix the virus you used to corrupt the camera's database."
"Corrupt footage." He felt the pain of his blood draining from his body; his skin was colorless as an eggshell. "I can barely download my music into the cloud. I don't know anything about viruses."
Clayton tapped on the photo, "Is that not you choking Fiona."
"No. No." Alex scarily hit his ears, he couldn't hear over his heartbeat. He couldn't feel his breath. "This is her."
"Her who?"
"The Psychopath Maker."
"The what?" Clayton rose from his seat. "This is you, Alex, in this picture." Clayton held it up.
Alex shook his head at the ghastly image, "No. No." He repeated as his muscles tighten like a vice grip, pulling away from every bone in his body. He ground his teeth to relieve some of the pain that shuttered through him but every time he took a breath it felt as if his lungs were trying to shut off. His heartbeat bounced in his ears like fire-truck sirens drowning out every word Clayton was saying.
Alex quaked with a chill that burned from within. The light overhead fell into his fading eyes.
Clayton grabbed his cell off the desk and dial three numbers. "
