Just after the three-hour mark, the scientist appeared in the doorway, holding a piece of paper. “Mr. Valcourt?”
I was on my feet immediately. “You’ve got the results?”
“Preliminary results, yes.” He walked over, his expression unreadable. “I have to say, this wasn't what I expected.”
My pulse kicked up. “What do you mean?”
“It's actually not animal blood at all.”
My eyes widened. “It’s human?”
“No, sorry, that was terrible phrasing on my behalf. What I should’ve said is: it’s notanykind of blood.” He turned the paper so I could see it and tapped his finger on a printed list. “What you gave me is a mix of ferrous sulfate, glucose syrup, glycerin, xanthan gum, and food coloring. So it would’ve smelled like blood, and it would’ve looked exactly like it too. But it’s not biological material at all.”
“So what exactly is it? In layman’s terms.”
“It’s fake blood mixed with iron salts,” he said. “The iron salts would’ve given it that distinctive metallic smell that you’d associate with real blood. Fake blood on its own typically has a sweet smell from the corn syrup.”
“Right,” I muttered, mind spinning.
“As I said, sourcing analysis will take a lot more time, but I can tell you now that ferrous sulfate can be picked up from any gardening or hardware store. Some craft stores sell it too,” the scientist said. “As for fake blood, that can be sourced from costume stores, party supply stores, or online retailers. You'd find it at any film production company, too.”
My pulse stuttered. “How about a theater?”
“Absolutely,” he said, nodding. “They'd use it in stage productions anytime they need realistic bleeding effects.”
Holy fuck.
“With further testing, we can try to narrow it down to a specific manufacturer or retailer,” he went on. “The chemical signature might—”
I was already moving toward the door.
“Mr. Valcourt?" the scientist called after me. "Should I call you with the sourcing analysis when it's complete?”
“Not necessary!” I shouted back, breaking into a jog. “I know where it came from!”
My mind raced as I burst through the exit and headed for my car. The implications were crashing over me like waves.
Violet's stalker—and Calista's murderer—wasn't a Dionysus Club member at all.
It was one of her closest friends.
That was how they'd known about the investigation. That was how they'd known she'd infiltrated our initiation ceremony. They'd been right there the whole time, pretending to help while actually trying to scare her into stopping. And she trusted them completely. Would never suspect them. Would put herself in danger to protect them, just like she'd protected her mother all those years ago.
So… which one of them was it?
Cherry was the senior production coordinator for the BHU theater. She'd have unlimited access to stage blood.
Ginny was a lighting and sound tech in the same theater. Also unlimited access.
Dylan was a writer, director, and occasional actor there. Plus, he had his own prank video channel on YouTube, and fake blood almost certainly appeared in some of his content.
Jeremiah was a computer science student with no official ties to the theater, but he was still very closely associated with it. He was in a relationship with Dylan and best friends with Cherry and Ginny, and he also helped them plan, set up, and host parties there. So access to the supplies wouldn’t be difficult for him either.
That meant all four of them had the means.
But which one had the motive to kill Calista?
I started the car, my hands gripping the wheel hard enough to hurt. I needed to get back to Violet, right the fuck now. Because if one of her friends was a murderer, she was in more danger than I'd initially realized… and she had no way of knowing it.
