“I’m not Nate Beaumont.”
It’s not that I was expecting immediate relief, but I don’t feel any different at all. After lying for several weeks, I would have thought there’d be a little weight off my chest, but instead I feel like I’m panicking. Probably because Easton is still out there. It makes me nervous, not knowing where he is.
“Okay.” Agent Grant nods slowly. He doesn’t seem shocked.
“Nate’s dead.”
Again, he’s not surprised.
“Easton Beaumont is the one who killed him.”
Finallya reaction. Agent Grant flinches and his eyebrows twitch upward, but only a little. He’s probably an excellent poker player.
“Easton.” It’s almost a question. As if he was expecting me to say a different name.
“Yes.”
“And you know this how?”
“He told me. After he killed his friend John Thomas in front ofme. He bashed JT’s head in with a rock, then threw the body over the edge of a cliff. They found him the next day and thought it was an accident.”
Grant leans forward, putting up a hand to stop me. He takes a small notebook out of his back pocket and starts writing something. “So Easton killed his friend in front of you. Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Because he said if I told anyone, he’d kill me. He knew I wasn’t Nate, obviously, and he’s the one who put glass in the food Gramma Sharon ate. He also turned on the gas, knowing the alarm would go off, and he burned Valencia’s hydrangeas and threw paint on Marcus’s car and made it seem like I did it.”
“What time was this? When he killed his friend.”
I try to remember. “I think around seven? Maybe seven thirty.”
He writes it down. “Okay. And Easton told you he killed his brother?”
“Yes. He strangled him to death in the fort they built together out on the island in the bay.” I thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the back door. “Miles and I went out and found the body today.”
“Instead of calling the police, you and your friend went out there alone to find a crime scene?”
“Look, if all you’re going to do is crime-shame me, we can skip to the end where I say, ‘I know, I never should have lied to begin with, and I regret every decision I made along the way.’ But you need to get the police to find Easton right now, before he can cover it up any more than he already has.”
He stares at me with what I imagine is equal parts skepticism and curiosity. “Why did you call me? You should have called the police.”
“Because I don’t trust them to take me seriously. They fucked up Nate’s investigation from the beginning, right?” He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face tells me he agrees. “And I think you believe me. Don’t you? That’s why you’ve been following me around and trying to get me alone without the family. You knew I wasn’t Nate.”
He purses his lips and closes his notebook. “I suspected. Honestly, I thought the parents hired you. You’re sure Easton acted alone?”
So Grant does think Valencia and Marcus were involved in some way.
“I mean, it’s not outside the realm of possibility that they knew, but I really don’t think so.” At least that’s my hope. That Valencia had no clue. That even Marcus was in the dark.
Agent Grant leans back in the chair. He stretches his neck with a pop, then sighs. “So why have you been pretending to be Nate?”
“Seriously? That’s not important right now! Easton is a psychopath and a murderer.”
“It is important because I knew you weren’t Nate when I met you. Your story didn’t make sense—post-traumatic amnesia doesn’t present the way you say yours does. Even your Dr. Zapata said she thought you were hiding something. She thought you weren’t comfortable talking about whatever happened to you. But I’ve been doing this awhile and I could tell it was because you were making stuff up. So why steal this kid’s identity?”
I tell him the quick version. That I ran away from my ultraconservative religious parents, was living on the street, and I didn’t want to go to jail.
“I never thought it would get so out of hand. I figured I could sneakout of the hospital before you all called the Beaumonts. I thought you’d at least have to do a DNA test.”
“Your ‘parents’ wouldn’t allow it. And we can’t take DNA and test it without a court order. So if you and your parents both say you recognize each other, we’re likely to take your word for it—and the Department of Human Services has been woefully underfunded for years, so one less kid in foster care is good for them.”
