Fear Her Wrath II: Crucible of Glass

Chapter 64

EPILOGUE

Two weeks later.

"Something doesn't add up," I said.

It was lunchtime, and Ben and I were the first to arrive at Heissler's Deli. After getting our coffee and leaving our orders with Serge, we'd claimed the most private booth in the corner farthest from the counter.

Not for the reason that you think.

"Just one thing?" said Ben, kissing me on the forehead.

"No, everything. Like, Augusto Vaccari is smart, but he's not smart enough to be the real brains behind this plan. I can't believe he would hatch something that would take months to pull off like this. You watched the videos from his trial, right?"

"Oh yeah. The guy is completely unhinged. His own lawyer looks terrified every time he opens his mouth."

"And all this stuff about blackmailing people and carefully gathering info over—I mean, some of it must have taken years. It's just not his MO. Someone else was doing the planning for him. They had to be."

"I'm following," said Ben. "But who's the someone?"

I chewed my tongue and looked down at my laptop, which had all the police files on Glassface open in about 200 different tabs.

"I don't know. I asked Ellie to try and find something all those people had in common. I mean, the ones who didn't sign up willingly, like Nika Artemesia and Detective Sloane."

"Interesting. So you think it's possible there's some link between them the police didn't find?"

"Oh, it's more than possible," said Ellie, setting her laptop and tablet on the table and squeezing into the seat beside me. "Your future stepmother sends her regards, by the way."

I involuntarily gagged.

"Ugh. Please never call her that again."

"Still in denial, I see," said Ellie pleasantly. "Ooh, do you think Maggs's dad calls her Sarah, or Lieutenant Corrigan?"

Ben burst into laughter. I promptly shot him a murderous look that put an end to his ill-advised mirth, but didn't stop either of my friends from smirking at me.

"Now that we've exhausted that very amusing topic," I said threateningly. "What'd you find, Ellie?"

"Your connective tissue, Maggs," she said mysteriously. "You were right. Augusto Vaccari, Laurence Sloane, Iris Baker, Nika Artemesia—they all had something in common."

"Same hairdresser?" suggested Ben.

"No, doofus. Same psychiatrist. Dr. Ellis Oluwole. He's worked with all of them at some point during the past ten years—including Glassface. And get this."

She slid her tablet over so Ben and I could see the screen.

"I found some encrypted emails the police missed between Augusto Vaccari and one 'Dr. Ego.' Looks like he was guiding ol' Glassface along every step of the way."

"Dr. Ego?" repeated Ben. "What kind of name is that?"

"Ego," I said thoughtfully. "Ego. What does that... Wait, I think I got it. Ellie, what's Dr. Oluwole's middle name?"

"Ooh, someone's got their detective hat on today," said Ellie. "His middle name is..."

She did a drum roll on the table.

"Graves."

"E-G-O," said Ben. "No points for subtlety."

"The guy's name is Ego," said Ellie. "Whaddya expect, Vang?"