“She liked to keep it with her,” Aisha confirms.
I clear my throat. “Do you think she might have had something on this mechanic guy? Is he connected in some way?” There is nothing on the SD card related to Alex Burke, but Gretchen might not have had the chance to record anything about him before she died.
The sheriff eyes the bag of money, but doesn’t say anything.
I bring my hand to my chest. “You don’t really think she—”
“I’m not going to speculate with you about how the two of them were involved,” the sheriff says. “But Alex Burke is a known low-level drug dealer—someone who wouldn’t have wanted to get in trouble.”
Aisha bites her lip.
“Thank you, girls, this has been extremely helpful.” He flips his notepad to a clean page and looks at us. “I do want to ask you one favor. Could you please keep this to yourselves, about finding the money?”
Aisha’s relief is palpable. She nods quickly. “You don’t want people to know about the purse or the money?”
“We’ll have to say something about it eventually,” he says, rising behind the desk. “But I’d like to keep it quiet as long as possible. Someone is probably looking for that cash. I’m hoping to find them before they learn we have it.” He ushers us toward the door, but pauses with his hand on the knob. “Sonia, could I speak with you alone for just a moment?”
“Yeah . . . sure.” I look at Aisha.
“I’ll wait for you,” she says.
Once she’s gone and the door is closed, Sheriff Wood pulls the Hidden Falls postcard and defaced photograph from a drawer in his desk. They’re sealed in plastic bags now, which somehow makes me feel safer.
“I ran this print, like you asked me to. Nothing came up in the database.”
I stare at the huge red letters scorching toward me through the plastic. The computer system can only identify fingerprints of people who’ve been arrested or have their prints on file for some other reason. Which means it couldn’t have been Marcus or Alex Burke . . . but now leaves me wondering who else it could’ve been.
“Thanks.” I shift from my right foot to my left. “I guess I don’t know what to think.”
He sits on the edge of his desk. “Your principal supplied me with a couple of other reports of defaced photos in people’s lockers. There’s no clear pattern, but each of them were recent photos taken with Gretchen.”
“I wasn’t the only one?” My eyes widen. “Who else?”
“I’d like to keep that confidential for the time being.”
I grind my teeth. “Come on, Sheriff, is it really that huge a secret?”
His eyes drift back to the bag of cash. “You were the only one to receive a postcard after the initial photo. At least, you’re the only one to report it. We’ve been following up on that.”
My lip trembles as I let that sink in. “Do—do you think there’s some connection between the postcard and the money?”
He frowns. “Is there any reason someone might think you were holding on to the cash?”
“Why would they? I didn’t know about it. I don’t even know what it’s for.”
He pauses a long time, then stands, setting the money down next to a second paper bag, which holds Gretchen’s purse. “Look, Sonia, we’re building a strong case against Alex Burke, and I think this purse of Gretchen’s is going to help tremendously. But I want you to keep your eyes and ears open. There’s still a good chance the vandalism of the memorial and your picture and postcard were just pranks, especially since no overt threats were made, but you need to tell me if anything strikes you as odd or makes you feel uncomfortable as we move forward.” His eyes soften. “And try not to worry too much.”
I nod, rising from my chair. “So you still haven’t mentioned it to my mom?”
His brow furrows. “Not for the time being.”
When I meet Aisha in the lobby, I notice Marcus sitting slumped in a chair off in a corner by the windows. He straightens when he sees me, and I struggle not to rush over to him immediately. I’m almost certain he isn’t behind the photo and postcard, and if they link Gretchen to Alex Burke, Marcus might be cleared of her murder too. I pause, surprised at how much I want this to happen now. Our eyes meet and I take a step toward him, but then Kirsten and her parents come through the main doors. Kirsten gives me a relieved smile, but her father looks nervous and upset.
“The sheriff asked us to come down to discuss new evidence.” His voice booms at Martina, cowering behind her desk.
She picks up her phone. “Of course, Mr. Meyer, I’ll let him know you’re here.”
His brow wrinkles when he spots me. “Do you know something about this, Sonia?”