Logan’s locker.
A cold sweat broke out all over her body; for the first time since the note appeared in her locker, Sawyer was able to suck in a deep, relieved breath. She liked Logan, but if there were something in his locker that incriminated him as her admirer, that pointed to him as the one who killed Maggie, Sawyer wanted him stopped. Her eyes shifted over Stephen, and she briefly wondered if he knew that this was his brother’s locker.
She choked on her deep breath when she saw Detective Biggs lean over, stepping backward with something wrapped around the edge of his pencil.
It was a long, crimson sash.
“Oh no, Logan,” she whispered. But she stopped cold when the men turned and Sawyer could see that it was her locker door that was pried open—and that the edge of the sash was still in there.
Sawyer’s eyes were wide. She sucked her breath in and flattened herself against the wall, praying the bank of lockers to her left would allow her some cover. She could hear the men talking, their voices harsh but muffled. When they quieted, she chanced a peek, her stomach rolling in on itself as she did. Detective Biggs was pawing through her things. He handed out items—her chemistry book, her math book—to Stephen, who held out latex glove–covered hands. Detective Biggs slowed when he came to a large envelope Sawyer had never seen. Her breath sped up when she noticed its telltale mint-green color. Biggs slid open the envelope and pored through it, handing each piece to Stephen as he did. The article about Kevin’s death. The peanut butter wrapper and what Sawyer surmised was the folded printout of the anaphylaxis web page. A large photograph of her and Kevin. The crumpled test paper from Mr. Hanson’s classroom. There were a few other things that Sawyer couldn’t make out, but the last item the detective pulled out made her blood run cold.
Detective Biggs sighed and handed Stephen the framed photograph of her and Maggie that had been on the Gaines’s mantle. The glass was cracked, and even from where Sawyer was standing, she could see that Maggie’s face had been scratched out.
Sawyer’s feet were moving before she knew she was running. Her book bag thumped against her hip; she didn’t breathe until she pushed through the wide double doors and felt the sting of the cold, damp air on her face.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, doubling over.
The mumbling voices of Principal Chappie and the officers were coming down the hall and when Sawyer straightened up, she saw the threesome opening the door to Mrs. Fluke’s classroom.
Her cell phone was chirping by the time she had unlocked her car door. It was Chloe—
WHERE RU? CHAP & POLICE LKNG 4U.
Sawyer sucked in a shaky breath, then started typing.
GETTING ANSWERS.
***
The police station parking lot was nearly deserted, and for that Sawyer was relieved. She still chose a parking spot that camouflaged her car as much as possible, just in case.
“May I help you?” The woman at the front desk was in uniform, her hair clipped short and her face freshly washed.
Sawyer pasted on her best eager smile. “Yes, actually. I am from the school paper. I’m supposed to interview Officer Haas.” She neglected to note which school paper, and the young officer didn’t ask.
“He is not in the office right now.”
Sawyer nodded. “Right, he told me that. He should have left a file for me. Some questions. Basic stuff”—she smiled brightly, willing an innocent blush into her cheeks—“about becoming a cop and all.”
The officer nodded kindly at Sawyer and pointed with her pencil. “Haas sits over there. Do you know where the file is?” She craned her neck. “Looks like there’s a big stack.”
“Oh, yeah, he told me exactly. He said it would be right there on his desk.”
“Knock yourself out.”
Sawyer beelined to Stephen’s desk, quickly sifting through the stack of manila file folders, silently thanking God that the little police department had money for silk plants, but not for a digital file system.
Gaines, Maggie, was the third file down. Sawyer shoved it in her bag and was ready to leave when something else caught her eye—another folder, another file.
Anderson, Kevin.
She looked around, confident that no one was paying attention to her, and slipped that one in her bag as well.
“Finding everything you need?” The female officer was smiling at Sawyer, looking over her shoulder.
Sawyer’s heart thrummed with embarrassment. “Yep, got it. Thanks.”
The folders seemed to vibrate in Sawyer’s bag, and her fingers itched to pull them out and examine them, but she smiled graciously at the female officer, and walked slowly out of the police station. As if on cue, her cell phone began to chirp once Sawyer stepped into the parking lot. She looked at the digital readout and sighed.
“Dad,” she muttered to the empty car.