They took me to the police to give my statement and while I’d stressed the importance of the pink scarf and that it had meant that Debbie hadn’t been alone, they didn’t appear too overly concerned.
“We plan on talking to her ex-boyfriend later today,” the officer said, guiding me out of the office, to where Calla and Avery waited. He smiled, but it was tight and fake, and I felt like one of those nosy little old ladies who ran the neighborhood watch and always reported things incorrectly.
“So what did they say?” Avery asked once we were back in Calla’s car.
I sighed. “I told them what I saw and what I knew. That her and Erik had broken up and that he . . .” I bit down on my lip, realizing I’d never told them how Debbie’s relationship was. It felt wrong somehow, even though she had never asked me to not tell anyone, but I’d been so embarrassed—still was—and I knew she probably never wanted anyone to know. I’d told the police and they’d written down what I’d seen—the bruises and what Debbie had told me, but I could tell that they really thought Debbie had killed herself. And without anyone there to file charges against Erik, there’d be nothing they could do.
Avery peeked over the passenger seat, her brown eyes wide. “He hit her, didn’t he?”
Wondering if she could read minds, I glanced at the rearview mirror, finding Calla’s gaze darting from the road to it. “Yeah, he . . . he hit her. I asked her about it once and she denied it, but then she told me the truth after, well . . .” Cam still didn’t know about that and I wanted to keep it that way. “Well, she told me the night before she died.”
“Jesus,” Calla muttered.
My gaze met Avery’s, and she smiled sympathetically. “Anyway, I told them what I knew and how the pink scarf had to have meant that Erik had been there. They said they were planning on talking to him today.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “Do you think he really did it to her and then . . . hung her up?”
I shuddered at the prospect. “I don’t know how anyone could do that to someone, but there are really messed-up people in this world.”
Calla nodded. “So very true.”
“And he’s lost his temper with her before. Maybe it wasn’t on purpose,” I wondered out loud. “And then he panicked and made it look like a suicide.”
“It sounds a little out there, but people have done crazier stuff.” Avery turned in her seat and looked out the window. “I’ve learned to never underestimate people.”
“Yeah,” I breathed, sitting back.
It seemed crazy to sit here and consider that a college-age guy might’ve killed his ex-girlfriend—accident or not—and then staged it as a suicide, but like Calla and Avery both said, people had committed crazier acts.
Cam and Jase were already back at the apartment and the moment we stepped through the doors, they started bombarding us with questions about what went down at the police.
Neither boy looked like they had done each other any bodily harm, and I spied two pink boxes sitting on the kitchen counter. I couldn’t help but grin as I sat beside Jase on the couch. Him and his cupcakes. It was contagious, spreading to Cam.
“We didn’t get everything, but we got enough that you’ll be fine for a while.” Jase reached over, tucking my hair back. “Everything is in your bedroom.”
“Thank you so much.” I looked between the boys. “Both of you.”
“No problem.” Cam wrapped his arms around Avery, tucking her back against his chest. “Just don’t burn down my apartment.”
Everyone laughed while I shot him a dirty look. Calla was the first to bow out, having to head into work for a short shift, and then Avery and Cam got that googly-eyed look about them. They soon made an exit.
Jase reached for me, tugging me back so I rested curled against his chest. As much as I wanted to shut my brain down and simply enjoy being in his arms, I couldn’t.
“You think I’m jumping to conclusions, don’t you?” I asked, thinking back to what I told him about my visit to the police and my suspicions.
He brushed my hair back and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I wouldn’t say you were jumping. Maybe hopping, but you’re right. Erik has one hell of a temper, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone lost control and did something like that.”
At least he wasn’t saying I was crazy. “Do you think the police will do an autopsy?”
“I don’t know.” His hold on me was secure. “You’d think they would just in case.”
I prayed that they did. If my suspicions were correct, then wouldn’t it show in the exam? I hated even thinking about Debbie in terms of autopsies and cause of death, like that was what she’d been reduced to.
“You know what it makes me wonder about?” I said, closing my eyes. “What if Jeremy had gotten to that point? He could’ve easily been Erik, if that’s what he did.”