Tense with pent-up energy, she paced around the lobby, examining the bulletin board covered in posters of missing girls and wanted drug dealers, and ads for bondsmen and local lawyers. There was even an ad for a mental health counselor named Elliot Fielder at Beacon Heights Mental Health Outreach. When her phone beeped, she lunged for it, hoping it was Alex. But it was just an email from a junior she’d seen with Julie a few times, a girl named Ashley Ferguson. Julie Redding’s Dirty Little Secret, it read.
Curious, Ava clicked on it and read the accompanying article. Her heart lurched. Poor Julie. This explained why she was so reserved at times, so closed off. What must it be like to live like that? And no wonder Julie never wanted anyone to meet her at her house.
A few moments later, all the girls hurried in. Ava watched as Julie stumbled inside last, looking exhausted and puffy-eyed. She’d clearly seen the article, too. Ava stepped forward, wanting to say something to her—that Ashley Ferguson was a horrible bitch, maybe, and that karma would get her someday.
Instead, all she could say was, “I don’t care where you live or what your situation is. I’m glad we’ve become friends.”
Tears filled Julie’s eyes. Her mouth wobbled. She ducked her head and stumbled forward into Ava’s arms. Ava hugged her tightly, noticing Mac’s and Caitlin’s sympathetic glances. They must have seen the email, too. Maybe the whole school had.
Then Julie pulled away and wiped her eyes. “So, um, do you have it?” she asked, looking at Caitlin, who had kept the flash drive with her overnight.
Caitlin nodded and patted her canvas bag. “I checked on it about fifty million times. It’s here.”
A junior-looking officer walked past, and Ava cleared her throat. “Um, we’re here to see Detectives Peters and McMinnamin.”
The officer looked at the girls skeptically, but before he had a chance to respond, the two detectives appeared from the back of the precinct. McMinnamin led the way, clearly the senior of the two partners.
“Okay, girls,” Detective McMinnamin intoned, running a hand through his thinning blond hair. “Follow me.”
Ava took a deep breath and snaked past a series of messy desks piled high with intake folders and cardboard coffee cups. They turned down a long hall, passed a water fountain and doors for the men’s and women’s bathrooms, and settled into the same interrogation room she’d been brought to last week. It seemed like much longer.
Just as before, the venetian blinds were open, revealing a long mirror. Ava glanced at them nervously. Was someone on the other side of the mirror watching them?
“So,” Peters began, lacing his enormous fingers together on the table. “The officer on duty said you had information about Nolan Hotchkiss. Are you ready to share?”
The girls looked at one another. Julie nodded encouragingly. Then Caitlin pushed the flash drive across the table. Her clammy fingers left sweaty marks on the dark surface.
“It belonged to Nolan,” Julie explained in a halting voice. “W-we found it at Lucas Granger’s house. It proves that Nolan knew Granger was hooking up with students.”
“And that he was blackmailing Granger,” Ava jumped in. “Asking him to give him better grades, write letters of recommendations, pay for things—you name it.”
“Granger did it,” Mackenzie said. “He killed Nolan . . . and now he’s trying to frame us.”
Peters turned to face Ava, his brown eyes unreadable. “And how did you girls come by this flash drive. Did he just hand it over?” There was a smirk on his face.
Ava blushed. Julie shifted in her seat. Caitlin leaned in, her eyes blazing. “Well, he tried to seduce Ava. She took it when she escaped from him.”
McMinnamin sighed and rubbed his temples. “So you . . . stole it?”
Ava’s mouth dropped open. “Well, I . . .”
“And what time of night was this, ladies?” Peters asked, his brow furrowed.
Ava glanced at the others. She wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything. “Um, I don’t know. Evening, I guess.”
“Eleven? Twelve?”
“Why don’t you actually look at the content on this drive?” Julie interrupted, sliding it toward them. “And then make your decision. Because I think it proves that Granger is the murderer. And it proves you should arrest him.”
“I don’t doubt that Granger was doing something illicit,” McMinnamin said smugly. “But there’s no way we can arrest him.”
Ava blinked, suddenly deflating. “What? Why?”
The detective’s gaze was steady. “Because he’s dead.”
Ava gasped. “What?” she asked faintly.
“There was a nine-one-one call to his house last night,” Peters said. “When the ambulances came, there were signs of a struggle.”
Blood rushed to Ava’s head. This wasn’t making any sense. And all at once, she understood what the detective was getting at. “I didn’t do anything to him,” she said very slowly.
“Be careful what you say next,” Peters growled. “Because we have a witness who places you all at the crime scene at ten PM—right around the time of death.”