“I don’t know.” But I hear what she’s saying—someone could have planted the phone on the Grossos’ property to make it seem like Cliff had something to do with Bailey’s disappearance.
But Cliff hurting Bailey is the scenario that makes sense. Shouldn’t it be the theory Jade believes?
Unless she’s come up with one of her own. My stomach drops.
Jade plucks at a pill of fuzz on Bailey’s bedspread, avoiding my eyes. “I have to ask you something. Did you tell Ellie that Bailey probably ran away?”
My thoughts blur together. I hear Ellie’s voice, gently probing me. Monday seems so far away.
“That’s not what I said at all,” I say. “I said that Bay hated it here and wanted to leave.”
Jade stuffs her hands in the pockets of her oversized sweater. “Why would you say something like that? Bay would never leave us.”
“I didn’t make it up.” Annoyance flares in me—at Bailey, I realize, for being so delicate with Jade. For never telling her the truth, how she really felt about Broken Falls. I open my mouth to tell Jade everything: our project for local history, how we’d gotten Starbucks afterward. I would just get on the highway and go.
There’s a knock at the door, stomping down my angry thoughts. I would have told you about the times Bailey and I hung out alone but she said you would be jealous.
Jade doesn’t look at me as she jumps up and opens Bailey’s door. Ashley is standing in the doorway. “Kacey, hon, we have to go.”
The color leaches from Jade’s cheeks. “Did something happen?”
“No, nothing like that.” Ashley wraps her arms around her middle and looks at me. “The—the sheriff wants to talk to Kacey.”
“Why?” My head feels fuzzy. Of course I know why—they want to talk about Bailey—but why just me? Why not Jade too?
“Sweetheart.” Ashley’s voice is strange; she’s staring at my face. “You’re bleeding.”
I put a hand to my nose. It comes away red. I feel the blood drip down my upper lip, Jade’s gaze boring into me like a question mark.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sheriff Moser is waiting for us up front at the station. The desks behind him are eerily empty, save for a woman in a bulky sweater clacking away at her computer’s keyboard. The heat is cranking; underneath my jacket, my sweater sticks to my spine. My nose has stopped bleeding, my pocket full of tissues from the Hammonds’ bathroom, just in case.
Moser shakes Ashley’s hand. “I appreciate you coming down here. Busy lady, managing three kids and the café.”
Ashley gives Moser a tight smile. Wiggles her hand out of his paw. “I—should I be in the room with Kacey?”
“Well.” Moser’s mustache lifts. “I think the detective would prefer to chat with her alone. More honest answers.”
A breathy chuckle. Ashley’s face is grim. I swallow and touch her hand with my pinky. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
“All right,” she says. “I guess I’ll wait out here.”
“It might be a few minutes,” Moser says. “The detective is just finishing up another interview.”
Ashley looks down at me.
“It’s fine,” I say. “Go home. I’ll call you when they’re done.”
When Ashley’s gone, I sit in one of the empty waiting room chairs. Moser brings me a tepid cup of water. Mercifully, the phone rings, and he scuttles off to get it.
A door opening. Muttering. Ellie Knepper steps out of the room next to the coffeemaker. After her, a hulking guy steps out, shoulders slumped forward.
Cliff Grosso.
Ellie spots me. Nods. “We’ll be right with you, Kacey.”
Cliff looks up when Ellie says my name. His gaze skims over me. I pull my jacket tight around my body. I feel the rage bubbling up inside me; why are they letting him just walk out of here? He was the last one seen talking to Bailey before she disappeared.
Are they cutting him a break because the sheriff’s great-niece is dating him?
I call out to Cliff: “Hey. That’s a nice doe you shot.”
He pivots. I see the gears in his head turning. Cliff’s stupid, but not that stupid. Good. I want him to know I was in his backyard; I want him to feel violated. He should, for all the shit he talked about Bailey behind her back after the accident. She was dying to fuck at my house. I couldn’t talk her out of it.
Cliff raises his hands. Gives me two middle fingers.
He opens the door, sending a gust of cold my way. Stands there for a beat, like he’s doing it on purpose, then lets the door slam behind him. The sound echoes in my head until someone inside the room calls my name—but this time, it’s not Ellie Knepper. It’s the man from yesterday.
“I never formally introduced myself. My name is Detective Steven Burke,” he tells me. “Why don’t you come inside?”
We’re in a room that feels much too small for three people; there’s a counter with a sink and microwave in the corner. Detective Burke sits across from me at the table. Knepper stands in the corner, arms folded. Supervising. Which one of us, exactly, I don’t know.
“Before we start, I want to make it clear you’re not in trouble,” Burke says. “Technically, you were trespassing yesterday, but we’re willing to overlook that in exchange for your cooperation. You seem like a good kid.”
Burke gives me a grim smile. I lower my eyes to the cup of water Moser gave me. I’m not stupid; I know Burke is trying to get on my side. Make me trust him enough to tell him why I was really at the barn.
“Does this have anything to do with you guys finding Bailey’s car?” I ask.
Burke glances at Ellie. “We’ll get to that.”
Panic corners me. “I already told Ellie everything I know.”
Burke rests his forearms on the table. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up. “See, I have trouble buying that. I have daughters. I know how girls are with their best friends—always covering for each other, not wanting to sell each other out.”
“I’m not covering for anyone.”
“I believe that, Kacey, I do. I’m just trying to get the whole picture. Find out how a girl with no enemies goes missing in a town as small as this one.”
“Bailey had enemies.” The words spill out of me, a knee-jerk reaction. I want to kick myself.
Burke cocks his head. Even Ellie Knepper shifts in the corner. Heat comes into my face. “I mean, you know that Cliff Grosso hated Bailey. You just talked to him.”
Burke nods. “We’ve spoken at length with Mr. Grosso, and other witnesses at the party. They don’t think the disagreement by Bailey’s car was physical.”
“But he left the party not long after Bailey did. What if he followed her?”
I pick up the cup of water and hold it to my lips, because I don’t like how Burke is studying my mouth. Like everything that comes out of it is a lie.
“I’m going to ask you something,” Burke says. “You seem like a really smart girl. So I want to know, in your honest opinion, what you think happened to Bailey Saturday night.”
I blink, startled. “You want, like, my theory?”