Without another thought, she ran.
Or, she began to. Before she made it to her feet, a fist knotted in the back of her T-shirt and threw her to the ground. Her skull cracked against the pavement and she gasped at the shock of pain, blinking up into the yellow light. A silhouette hovered over her, at once a man and a shadow. Bug fought to sit up, but the man wrapped his hands around her neck, thumbs pressed into her throat. Her scream came out as a croak.
“No,” the man huffed, not to Bug but to someone else. Someone she couldn’t see. He closed his eyes and snapped, “No.”
Bug Gunderson hadn’t given much thought to how she would die. She especially hadn’t pictured it like this: alone, writhing against the pavement of the Bates Motel parking lot, watching the white stars overhead blur and slip away into the dark. Bug gasped once, twice, and then there was no more.
She had one thought before she faded away.
She recognized her killer’s face.
24
On A Cold, Bleak Morning
Logan was aware of two things when she woke up. The first was Ashley’s limbs, warm and soft and tangled with hers under the comforter. The second was blue-and-red lights flashing against her closed blinds. In her hazy half-dream, she wasn’t sure which was more alarming. She pressed her face into her pillow and burrowed under her blankets. The motel room was cool and dewy with morning, gray shadows casting sharp lines across the wall. It was red, then blue, then red.
Logan abruptly sat up.
Police lights were definitely the more alarming thing.
She threw the blankets back and gave herself a quick once-over. She was still dressed in the clothes she’d been wearing the day before, though her sweater was crumpled and her skirt had rotated halfway around her waist.
Ashley sat up and slowly blinked to life.
“What…？” She trailed off. Logan wasn’t sure if the confusion stemmed from the police lights or the room she’d woken up in.
Logan motioned to the closed blinds. “Apparently we have visitors.”
“I don’t—” Ashley wearily peeled away the blankets and looked down at her legs. Her lips twisted into a scowl. “I slept in jeans.”
“We all make mistakes,” Logan said, parting the blinds. The police cruiser in the parking lot wasn’t alone. A square van was squeezed into the narrow space between Ashley’s truck and the abandoned pizza stand. The back of the van was open and a steel cart was loaded into the back. It was hard to tell for sure, but the cloth-covered object on the cart looked uncannily like a body.
Logan cleared her throat. “I think this is serious.”
Gracia stood outside, talking to the sheriff. She dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse and shook her head in disbelief.
“I have to go,” Ashley said. There was a fearful edge to her voice. “How do I get out of here?”
“Out the front door?”
Ashley stared at Logan for a second like she thought she was joking. Slowly, Logan understood what she meant, and embarrassment coiled in her stomach. Ashley couldn’t be seen leaving the motel room. No one could know she had been here overnight, and more specifically, that she was here with Logan. Even though they hadn’t done anything but talk, the mere implication of it would be too much for her reputation. Logan had to be a secret.
It wasn’t a great feeling.
She cleared her throat. “Right. Wouldn’t want anyone to see you.”
“Sorry,” Ashley said. She snatched her phone from the nightstand and unlocked it. Her hands shook. This was something more than embarrassment. “I had such a creepy dream last night.”