The Sleeping Beauty Killer

67

Her head hurt. Barely conscious, Charlotte felt herself being half-pushed, half-carried up the stairs. Why couldn’t she move her arms? Her legs were so hard to move. Something was tugging against them.

What happened?

She heard Angela’s voice.

“You need to keep moving. Come on, Charlotte.”

Angela’s voice. And also. And also. Angela had sent those terrible emails. Why? Charlotte felt a hard jab against her back.

“I started carrying a gun when your dear friend decided to investigate Casey’s conviction.” It was Angela’s voice, but it was a different-sounding voice. It had a desperate, hysterical quality.

They had reached the second floor. Charlotte felt her knees buckle, but Angela shoved her forward. “Keep going up, damn you.

“Charlotte, don’t worry. When something happens to you, the show will go on.” She began to giggle. “Maybe your family would even like me to offer a dedication to you. Better yet, they might offer me your job.”

Once they reached the third floor, Charlotte collapsed to the ground. “You don’t… have… to do this,” she pleaded.

“I do, Charlotte,” Angela said grimly, her voice rising. “I have no choice. But we’re friends. I promise it will be quick. You won’t suffer a bit.”

Charlotte yelped in pain as Angela yanked on the wrists tied behind her back, dragged her to her feet, and started pushing her toward the elevator shaft.