That I was telling the truth.
“I can’t. Her parents won’t allow it. We have to respect their privacy.” Detective Green smiled gently at me, his eyes full of sympathy. “Why do you want it? It’s probably not a good idea, trying to contact her right now. Her parents won’t talk to anyone, not even the media.”
“I have something for her. A—a gift.” My cheeks were warm and I figured I was blushing. I’d never bought a girl a gift before, so this was embarrassing. “I just want her to know that I’m thinking about her.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I worried. Was she dealing with everything okay? Did she feel safe? Was her reunion with her parents all she hoped it would be? Were the cops treating her all right? They wouldn’t stop asking me questions. They were mean as shit toward me most of the time. Treated me like I was the damn criminal, taking it out on me since my dad had gone on the run.
“You’re thinking about her.” Green watched me. We were at a fast-food place not far from the station. I’d asked him to meet with me and my temporary foster mom had dropped me off a few minutes ago. She thought I was meeting with the detective because he wanted to ask more questions about the case. My dad was still on the run; it had only been a week since Katie and I showed up at the police station and the police were in almost constant contact with me.
But really my sole purpose was to dig up information on Katie. I missed her like she was a part of me and now I’d lost a limb. I dreamed about her; her voice and face haunted my thoughts, and I didn’t know what that said about me.
All I knew was that I was dying to see her. Talk to her. Make sure she was all right.
“Yeah. I just—I need to know she’s okay,” I admitted, clearing my throat. I squirmed in my chair, uncomfortable with my confession. Did this make me a freak, that I worried about her? What we’d been through together—it wasn’t normal. No one else understood. Only Katie and I did.
“She’s doing fine,” Green finally said as he rested his forearms on the edge of the table. He hadn’t ordered any food for himself, just a drink, but I was devouring a double cheeseburger and a large fries, paid for by the detective, like he knew I was starving. My foster parents were typical beachside vegetarians. It sucked.
Relief flooded me but I tried to act cool. “Good.” I shoved a wad of fries into my mouth.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this but her parents aren’t dealing with this very well, especially her dad.” Green paused, his gaze meeting mine. “He thinks you’re to blame.”
I about choked on my fries at Green’s words. Grabbing my soda, I took a sip to get the food down before I could speak. “What are you talking about? How am I to blame?”
“They think you had something to do with abducting Katie. At the amusement park,” Green explained. “That you lured her in.”
I set my cup down on the table, frustration making me wish I could tear something apart. “You’ve all thought that about me at one point or another. You know it’s not true.”
“I do. I’ve convinced my colleagues that isn’t the case, too. The Wattses? They still believe you’re involved. They’re not satisfied with us letting you go.”
It was difficult to comprehend what Green was telling me. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “They want someone to blame. They want your father behind bars. Because he’s still on the loose, you’re the next best thing. That’s my theory, at least.”
I glanced out the window of the restaurant to watch a family of four as they exited their car and made their way to the front entrance. Smiling parents, two girls, one who looked close to my age, the other a little younger. They looked nice. Normal. Without a care in the world.
I envied them with every fiber of my being.
“Do you guys know where he’s at?” I asked, my voice low, my appetite gone. I didn’t like thinking about him, where he might be. What he might be doing. What if he was grabbing other little girls? What if he’d killed another one? They went through the storage shed and our house. There was enough evidence to arrest him for the kidnapping and rape of Katie and the murders of at least three other girls.
That had shocked me, when Green revealed that information to me the second day that they called me back to the police station. I had no idea he’d done this to other girls. That he’d . . . killed them.
My dad. The killer. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“We’ve had some leads.” Green’s lips went thin. “You know I can’t reveal too much.”
“Sure. Yeah.” I nodded, tapping my foot against the leg of the table. “He’s not gonna—he’s not gonna come after me, is he?”
“We don’t think so, but we have surveillance on your foster family’s home, just in case.”