“Addy Prentiss?” An older woman dressed in a boxy blue suit gives me a polite, professional smile. “I’m Detective Laura Wheeler with the Bayview Police. I want to follow up on the discussion you had last week with Officer Budapest about Simon Kelleher’s death. Could you come to the station with me for a few minutes?”
I stare at her and lick my lips. I want to ask why, but she’s so calm and assured, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to pull me aside after a funeral, that it seems rude to question her. Jake comes up beside me then, handsome in his suit, and gives Detective Wheeler a friendly, curious smile. My eyes dart between them and I stammer, “Isn’t it—I mean—can’t we talk here?”
Detective Wheeler winces. “So crowded, don’t you think? And we’re right around the corner.” She gives Jake a half smile. “Detective Laura Wheeler, Bayview Police. I’m looking to borrow Addy for a little while and get clarification on a few points related to Simon Kelleher’s death.”
“Sure,” he says, like that settles things. “Text me if you need a ride after, Ads. Luis and I will stick around downtown. We’re starving and we gotta talk offensive strategy for next Saturday’s game. Going to Glenn’s, probably.”
So that’s it, I guess. I follow Detective Wheeler down the cobblestone path behind the church that leads to the sidewalk, even though I don’t want to. Maybe this is what Ashton means when she says I don’t think for myself. It’s three blocks to the police station, and we walk in silence past a hardware store, the post office, and an ice cream parlor where a little girl out front is having a meltdown about getting chocolate sprinkles instead of rainbow. I keep thinking I should tell Detective Wheeler that my mother will worry if I don’t come straight home, but I’m not sure I could say it without laughing.
We pass through metal detectors in the front of the police station and Detective Wheeler leads me straight to the back and into a small, overheated room. I’ve never been inside a police station before, and I thought it would be more … I don’t know. Official-looking. It reminds me of the conference room in Principal Gupta’s office, with worse lighting. The flickering fluorescent tube above us deepens every line on Detective Wheeler’s face and turns her skin an unattractive yellow. I wonder what it does to mine.
She offers me a drink, and when I decline she leaves the room for a few minutes, returning with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder and a small, dark-haired woman trailing behind her. Both of them sit across from me at the squat metal table, and Detective Wheeler lowers her bag onto the floor. “Addy, this is Lorna Shaloub, a family liaison for the Bayview School District. She’s here as an interested adult on your behalf. Now, this is not a custodial interrogation. You don’t have to answer my questions and you are free to leave at any time. Do you understand?”
Not really. She lost me at “interested adult.” But I say “Sure,” even though I wish more than ever I’d just gone home. Or that Jake had come with me.
“Good. I hope you’ll hang in here with me. My sense is, of all the kids involved, you’re the most likely to have gotten in over your head with no ill intent.”
I blink at her. “No ill what?”
“No ill intent. I want to show you something.” She reaches into the bag next to her and pulls out a laptop. Ms. Shaloub and I wait as she opens it and presses a few keys. I suck in my cheeks, wondering if she’s going to show me the Tumblr posts. Maybe the police think one of us wrote them as some kind of awful joke. If they ask me who, I guess I’d have to say Bronwyn. Because the whole thing sounds like it’s written by somebody who thinks they’re ten times smarter than everyone else.
Detective Wheeler turns the laptop so it’s facing me. I’m not sure what I’m looking at, but it seems like some kind of blog, with the About That logo front and center. I give her a questioning look, and she says, “This is the admin panel Simon used to manage content for About That. The text below last Monday’s date stamp are his latest posts.”
I lean forward and start to read.
First time this app has ever featured good-girl BR, possessor of school’s most perfect academic record. Except she didn’t get that A in chemistry through plain old hard work, unless that’s how you define stealing tests from Mr. C’s Google Drive. Someone call Yale ….
On the opposite end of the spectrum, our favorite criminal NM’s back to doing what he does best: making sure the entire school is as high as it wants to be. Pretty sure that’s a probation violation there, N.
MLB plus CC equals a whole lot of green next June, right? Seems inevitable Bayview’s southpaw will make a splash in the major leagues … but don’t they have some pretty strict antijuicing rules? Because CC’s performance was most definitely enhanced during showcase season.
AP and JR are the perfect couple. Homecoming princess and star running back, in love for three years straight. Except for that intimate detour A took over the summer with TF at his beach house. Even more awkward now that the guys are friends. Think they compare notes?
I can’t breathe. It’s out there for everyone to see. How? Simon’s dead; he can’t have published this. Has someone else taken over for him? The Tumblr poster? But it doesn’t even matter: the how, the why, the when—all that matters is that it is. Jake will see it, if he hasn’t already. All the things I read before I got to my initials, that shocked me as I realized who they were about and what they meant, fall out of my brain. Nothing exists except my stupid, horrible mistake in black and white on the screen for the whole world to read.
Jake will know. And he’ll never forgive me.
I’m almost folded in half with my head on the table, and can’t make out Detective Wheeler’s words at first. Then some start breaking through. “… can understand how you felt trapped … keep this from being published … If you tell us what happened we can help you, Addy ….”
Only one phrase sinks in. “Is this not published?”
“It was queued up the day Simon died, but he never got the chance to post it,” Detective Wheeler says calmly.
Salvation. Jake hasn’t seen this. Nobody has. Except … this police officer, and maybe other police officers. What I’m focused on and what she’s focused on are two different things.
Detective Wheeler leans forward, her lips stretched in a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You may already have recognized the initials, but those other stories were about Bronwyn Rojas, Nate Macauley, and Cooper Clay. The four of you who were in the room with Simon when he died.”
“That’s … a weird coincidence,” I manage.
“Isn’t it?” Detective Wheeler agrees. “Addy, you already know how Simon died. We’ve analyzed Mr. Avery’s room and can’t see any way that peanut oil could have gotten into Simon’s cup unless someone put it there after he filled it from the tap. There were only six people in the room, one of whom is dead. Your teacher left for a long period of time. The four of you who remained with Simon all had reasons for wanting to keep him quiet.” Her voice doesn’t get any louder, but it fills my ears like buzzing from a hive. “Do you see where I’m heading with this? This might have been carried out as a group, but it doesn’t mean you share equal responsibility. There’s a big difference between coming up with an idea and going along with it.”
I look at Ms. Shaloub. She does look interested, I have to say, but not like she’s on my side. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“You lied about being in the nurse’s office, Addy. Did someone put you up to that? To removing the EpiPens so Simon couldn’t be helped later?”