Granger pulled out his iPhone to check his schedule, then frowned. “Actually this week is pretty difficult for me, especially right after school. Would Friday work—maybe around seven?” He smiled at her encouragingly.
Ava’s shoulders relaxed, the tension flooding out of her. “Oh, yes. Of course. Thank you so much, Mr. Granger. Should I meet you here?”
He glanced at the wall, giving it a wry smile. “Unfortunately for me, the drama club is in dress rehearsals for Guys and Dolls, and the auditorium is flush with that wall. It’ll be pretty loud in here.” He thought for a moment. “What about my house? I’m just a few blocks from here. Besides, I have a book on villains by Chuck Klosterman I’d really like to lend you.”
Ava blinked. She’d never been to a teacher’s house before. But he was going out of his way to help her with her paper, so the least she could do was come to him.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be there.”
“Great.” He put his phone back in his pocket and quickly wrote down his address for her. “I think you’re really talented, Ava. You have a lot of potential.”
“Thanks, Mr. Granger.” She squared her shoulders and turned to walk out of the classroom just as the door opened from the hallway.
“Excuse me?” a man said, stepping into the room.
“Yes?” Granger stood up fast, straightening his papers.
The man strode across the room. “I’m Detective Peters. I’m wondering if I could speak to Miss Jalali.”
His gaze turned to Ava. Ava shrank back, wondering how he knew her name—but then, maybe it was a cop’s job to know. Her head felt faint. What else did he know?
“I just have a few questions for you, Miss Jalali,” Peters said, perhaps noticing the nervous look on Ava’s face.
“That’s fine with me,” Granger said, his smile mild. “We’re finished here. You can use the classroom.”
“Actually, I need to take her down to the station,” Peters said.
Ava’s heart sank. “Th-the station?” She could feel Granger staring at her.
“We can’t technically conduct interviews on school grounds, but I got permission from the office to come into the school.”
“W-will you tell my parents?” Ava blurted.
Peters’s mild expression didn’t change. “That you’re being questioned, yes. But everyone is being questioned, Miss Jalali. Is there more I should tell them?”
Ava shook her head faintly. “Of course not.” Then she turned to follow the cop out of the room. Alex was waiting just outside the door. When he saw her with the cop, his mouth dropped open.
“They’re just asking me some questions,” she said quickly, trying to erase the concern from his eyes.
“Um, okay.” Alex gently touched her arm. “Do you want me to come with you?”
She blinked, considering. Then she snapped her expression into something much more confident and brave. She had to get a grip. She couldn’t afford to look guilty. She’d done nothing wrong.
“It’s okay,” she said brightly, giving Alex a peck on the cheek. “I’m sure it’s all just a formality. I’ll be back soon.”
And then she turned her smile on the detective and followed him outside to where his squad car was parked at the curb. She paused at the backseat, and the detective laughed lightly. “You can sit up front with me. Unless you’re a criminal?”
Ava’s cheeks reddened, and she managed to laugh as she scrambled to the passenger door. “Of course not,” she mumbled as she climbed in.
Not yet, anyway.
Ava had never been to a police station before, but it wasn’t that different from what she’d imagined: drab blue walls, people behind desks, WANTED posters, linoleum. The detective took Ava into a small room at the back and asked if she wanted coffee. She declined, afraid that it would make her hands shake even more badly than they already were. There was a long mirror on one side of the room; her wide-eyed, dark-haired, beautiful face stared back at her. She wondered if the mirror was actually translucent on the other side of the wall. Were officers standing there, ready to watch her?
Her phone beeped. You okay? Alex texted.
Ava turned her phone over, too freaked to type back. She looked at her expression in the mirror again. She needed to focus.
Peters returned with his coffee and shut the door. “So. Ava Jalali. J-A-L-A-L-I, is that right?”
Ava nodded. “Uh-huh.”
Peters leaned forward. “Okay. It’s come to our attention that you were the last person anyone remembers with Nolan Hotchkiss the night of his death.”
Ava frowned, her pulse racing double time. “I doubt that.”