“But you’re the Real Game Master,” said Beck. “You’re dying to tell people the truth.”
“Yes, I am!” Vera slammed a hand against one of the stone walls. “But no one ever listens to me. You and the other contestants roll your eyes and make comments behind my back, but you have no idea. You have no idea how integral I am—to everything!”
“That’s not true,” said Carter. “You’re the bridge between the show and the fans. The Domain owes you so much. All the interviews and behind-the-scenes footage and—”
“Screw social media. I’m not some publicity lackey. No one gets it. You Clue Masters think you’re so smart, but even with Louis dead, no onegets it.” She pressed a fist to her chest. “I’m behind everything. Creating the rooms, planning the puzzles, designing the special effects. It’s me. I’m the goddamn Game Master. But does Ranielle ever give me the credit I deserve? Hell no. That would ‘mess with the show’s image.’ ”
“You’re kidding,” said Carter. “I’ve been following Louis for years. Read every article, every news story . . .”
“Oh yeah?” said Vera with a bitter laugh. “And how well did you know him, reading all those fluff pages? Did they mention his penchant for teenage girls?”
Carter drew back, her expression shuttering in a way that made Adi clench his fist.
“So you’re the real Game Master,” said Sierra. “And no one knows?”
“Since season two,” said Vera, a touch of pride in her voice.
“Right.” Carter shut her eyes. “The puzzles in season one were pretty terrible. The show only gained traction because the hosts were so endearing.”
Vera scowled. “Louis wasn’t the genius everyone thought. He was better as the showman. The face. While I hid in the shadows because I’m notbeautifulenough orthinenough for television.”
“I mean,” started Adi, “your personality is also a little—”
Vera shot him a look.
“—fantastic,” he quickly amended. “Totally made for TV. Can’t imagine why they didn’t want you.”
“That isn’t right,” said Beck. “You deserve credit—for designing the game but also for catching the killer. Therealkiller. No one believed you, did they?”
“Ifoundit. Evidence he was here that night.” Angry tears misted in Vera’s eyes. “I told the police, but the timing was wrong. They said he had an alibi. They said I was mistaken.Mistaken!” Desperation tangled in her voice—a growing need to be heard. “I didn’t know what it was at first. But I put it in my pocket when I was doing final checks on the room, no idea that Alicia was lying dead in the coffin. It was only days later that I realized—but it had already been through the wash . . . and then I couldn’t fuckingfind it—” She caught herself as her voice lifted into a shriek. After a slow exhalation, she said, “And months later, by the time it finally resurfaced, you know what the police told me? That it wasn’t proof. They kept going on about that damn alibi. So I thought, I know who’ll help. The people who have always admired my work, even if they didn’t realize it was mine.”
“The Clue Masters,” breathed Beck.
“All I had to do was create a fake account and throw the clues onto the forums. Eventually, someone would have to figure out how he managed to trick everyone. How he’d gotten away with it.” Her expression turned angry again. “But you didn’t keep up your end of the deal, did you? You want your murderer? Then figure out the damn lie!”
“The time of death is wrong,” Sierra shouted back at her.
Vera stepped back, startled. “The time of death?”
“The killer used the freezer in our complex,” Adi said. “That’s why Alicia was wet—it was melting frost. The real time of death was before one a.m. Maybe as early as ten. We think the murderer came back early the next morning to pick up her body and stage it here in the coffin.”
Vera snapped her fingers. “I knew there was something off about the report! I thought maybe he’d paid some corrupt coroner or something . . .”
“Who?” said Carter. “Who is it?
Vera looked like she wanted to laugh. “You really haven’t figured it out yet?”
Adi growled in his throat. Vera was enjoying thiswaytoo much.
But Sierra, who seemed less perturbed by Vera’s secrecy, said, “I thought you hated my sister.”
“Oh, I did. She manipulated people, flirted to get whatever she wanted. Even Ranielle fawned over her. ‘Make her look good, Vera! We need the fans to love her!’ She couldn’t have her precious new host making a fool of herself.”
A flood of ice swept through Adi’s body. “New host?”
Vera snorted. “Hitflix wanted to make her the host for the next season. That’s how her team was doing so well—Ranielle was giving her cheats.” Her tone turned sardonic. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it, pretty boy?”
Adi spun to Sierra. “I saw Ranielle’s notes on my audition video! She’d written ‘the next Alicia.’ I thought it was some sick serial killer thing, but what she meant was she’d offered Alicia the hosting gig and was planning to offer it to me, too.”
