Serial

Chapter Twelve

 "I think I'm going to be sick," I said, gulping back the bile that had found its way into my throat. I dry-heaved again before lurching forward and putting my head between my legs.

"Ah, naw, girl. Not on my new sheepskin!" Zhara yelled, racing to the kitchen to grab something in case I threw up.

After placing a tiny garbage can near my feet with a clang, Zhara sat down beside me and began petting my head soothingly.

When the wave of nausea finally passed, I took a deep breath, but kept my head down just in case. "Your rug is from IKEA," I said to him, welcoming any conversation that didn't involve ice picks and eyeball scoopers.

"But it's new," he argued. "This is why we can't have nice things."

I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see me do it.

I felt him get up from the couch again and when he came back, it was with a cold paper towel that he gently placed on the back of my neck.

"Thanks, Zhara," I said, appreciating the cool-down. "And sorry about almost throwing up on your new rug. I guess I didn't realize how much talking with Tina would affect me."

That was the understatement of the year. While I'd managed to keep it together in front of her and Agent Walker, once I was alone with my best friend, I'd pretty much lost it.

Zhara had been waiting for me when I got home from the station, along with a plain-clothes police officer named Marcus, who'd explained that he was there to keep watch. Taking Agent Walker's earlier advice, I didn't let the guy into my apartment until I'd confirmed that what he was saying was true.

I'd told Agent Walker that I'd be more careful and I intended to keep my promise.

Zhara, however, was so confused by the turn of events that he'd refused to let me into my apartment until I'd explained everything to him. So, the three of us—my new shadow in tow—relocated to Zhara's, where he'd promptly sat me down and demanded all the gory details.

And I'd given them up.

How Kyle had broken out of custody. That he was probably planning how to kill me even as we spoke. Tina's recount of that night.

Everything.

"So what's next?" Zhara asked once I'd gotten ahold of myself again. I looked over to where Marcus was sitting in the kitchen. He was leafing through a magazine that had been left on the table, but I had a feeling he'd been listening to us the whole time. It's what I would've done if I were a cop. I gave Zhara a look that said to be careful what he said next. Catching on, he lowered his voice and added, "We are doing something next, right?"

I discreetly gave him a nod and then stood up.

"Next, I'm going to the bathroom," I announced loudly enough for Marcus to hear.

"You know where it is," Zhara waved me off. "But girl, burn the candle if you need to. I like my bathroom smelling like roses."

"You're disgusting," I said walking away.

Once I was behind the locked door, I turned on the faucet and then grabbed the piece of paper from where I'd tucked it in my purse after walking through the last metal gate in prison. I stared at its contents for a few seconds and then punched the number into my phone and waited for it to connect.

Zhara was right. I did have a plan, and it included getting more information on Kyle. The kind of details I couldn't get from his victims alone. I needed to know who he was. Specifically, who he'd been before he'd started killing.