To Tell An Altswood Lie (The Altswood Saga #3)

Chapter 20 - Shard

Author's Note: Hi, hi! With only five chapters left and a very special epilogue I'm preparing (it's going to be so cool, hope you're all ready), this story is starting to wrap up, which is always exciting! 

I'm going to do a little contest: after you read this chapter, comment your theories on how the rest is going to play out. Whether you want to name who you think the killer is, or describe a motive, or just drop a line on how everything has been pulled off - I want to hear the grape vine murmuring before the official reveal! All the clues are there - can you put it together before Luca does? ;)

Y'all are such a perceptive bunch that I'm sure someone is bound to get it correct, so the first most correct theory I see will get a shout-out at the end of the story, or a follow, or a virtual hug, or whatever you want, I don't know how to give incentives out over the internet honestly. Not to mention, of course, you'll receive the warm, warm satisfaction of being right. I won't be able to confirm or deny anything ahead of time, of course, but I'll be sure to reply with some devilish emojis to acknowledge that I have seen your theory. Now enjoy!

Chapter 20 - Shard

"We're here," I whispered. "And look, the lights are still on."

We hovered outside an ordinary house, a set-up that appeared small from the front but extended long into the yard. The curtains weren't drawn at any of the windows, allowing bright light to spill outwards.

Crystal Aston was at home and awake.

"Hide your handcuffs," Gabriel whispered, shoving his deep into his sleeve.

There was something eery about standing out here in the dark—essentially lurking, I realised, as I shoved the handcuffs into my sleeve to keep them out of view. I kept glancing over my shoulder instinctively, but I didn't know what I was looking for.

When I nodded my readiness to Gabriel, we proceeded up the front steps. After exchanging another nod to go ahead, Gabriel knocked loudly. There was a beat of silence, a beat where everything—even the whistling trees around us—hushed absolutely still, before a rustle came from inside the house. No doubt, Crystal was scrambling upright and looking at the clock, wondering who would be here at this hour.

We had no idea if she would even talk to us—in our state, we were more likely to have the door slammed in our faces.

"What if she refuses to talk?" I voiced aloud. I didn't know if it was the night chill or my nerves, but my hands refused to stop twitching.

"Then we find a new lead," Gabriel answered. He brushed his knuckles along my cheek. "It'll be okay."

The door opened.

Crystal recognised us instantly. Her first reaction was to gasp, before she realised that might have been rude, and pressed her hand over her mouth. She stared.

"Hi," I said softly. I tried for a smile. "I hope it's not too late. Can we come in?"

"We just want to talk to you really quickly," Gabriel added. "Then we'll be out of your hair."

Crystal's gaze darted to the space behind us, as if checking how we had come. Her confusion only deepened when she saw no parked car, only the ghosts of our footprints tracked down the sidewalk.

We weren't getting through to her. She looked afraid more than anything, and who wouldn't be? The entire town thought we were heartless murderers, walking free only because our parents pulled us out of a cold cell.

"Please," I pleaded quickly, when it looked like she was opening her mouth to say no. "It's about Beatrice Willis. If we can't work out who killed her, we're going to die."