Right. Because it had to be him.
Makani lifted a hand in acknowledgment. She was afraid that her voice might betray her nervousness, if her clammy skin didn’t do it first.
“Hope you don’t mind that I requested your interview.” The grin was uncannily familiar. “I was curious who my little brother has a crush on.”
She had no idea how to respond, so she didn’t. The word crush was an invigorating jolt. But this easily ranked as one of the worst ways to meet a potential boyfriend’s family. She’d been praying for any other officer.
Chris—Makani decided to think of him as Chris rather than Officer Larsson, because it was moderately less intimidating—led her to an empty room filled with electric typewriters. It was the keyboarding classroom. Freshmen were taught on typewriters, because it was too easy to cheat on computers. Copy and paste. Chris gestured to the hard orange chair that was stationed beside the teacher’s desk.
Makani sat down obediently. The buzzing fluorescent lights were so harsh and stark for a room that felt so neglected and out of time. They made her feel naked. She crossed her arms, worried that it looked disrespectful, and then sat on her hands instead.
Chris rolled the comfortable teacher’s chair toward her and took a seat. He examined her appearance, not unkindly. “How’re you holding up?”
Makani knew she didn’t look right. She looked twitchy and disturbed. It was better to admit it and hope that he assumed it was for normal reasons. “Not great.”
“Yeah, I hear you. Everyone’s shaken up pretty bad. Even us,” he said, and she assumed he meant the police. “We’ve never seen anything like this in Osborne. Have your teachers given you the information about counseling?”
Ollie had been so good with her grandmother, yet here she was, completely failing with his brother. She’d spoken two words and could barely look at him, and he already thought she needed counseling.
Still, all she could do was nod. At least it was true. Every teacher had given them the information. The counselors would be slammed for months.
“Good. That’s good.” Chris removed a flippable notepad from his breast pocket and clicked a pen to the ready. “Now I just have a few questions. They’re totally standard. We’re asking everyone.”
Another nod. Her hands began to sweat underneath her jeans.
His voice remained friendly, though it grew a touch sterner. Cop voice. “I know you’re new around here, but were you acquainted with either of the victims?”
It was a peculiar thing. Makani had lived here for almost a year—plenty of time to have gotten to know the victims—but in a town like this, she would always be made to feel like the new girl. “No,” she said. “I’ve never spoken to Haley.”
I’ve never spoken instead of I never spoke. As if there were still a chance that they might bump into each other buying iced mochas at the gas station.
She adjusted her verbs. “Maybe I spoke to Matt once or twice in government class, because he sat near me, but I’m not even sure. If I did, it wasn’t memorable.”
The interrogation continued: Do you know anyone the victims might have had trouble with? Were they ever bullied? Did they ever bully someone else?
Makani answered each question in the negative, wondering how many of her classmates had possessed the audacity to mention Ollie. They would have all known that they were talking to his brother—same last name, similar appearance, infamous car.
Sergeant Beemer had interviewed Ollie during lunch. Ollie hadn’t told Makani much, only that it’d taken the entire hour. Everybody else’s interviews had taken just a few minutes. Was Ollie questioned about the episode with Matt in the quad? And had there been other episodes before it?
“Sorry.” Makani shrugged at the industrial linoleum. “I’m not much help. I don’t hang out with either of their crowds.”
“That’s okay. Everything helps.” His tone had softened, and she looked up. Having successfully nabbed her attention, he broke into a mischievous smile. “Where were you yesterday between the hours of six and seven p.m.?”
Her cheeks exploded with heat.
His grin widened.
“I was with your brother.” Makani cringed and crossed her arms. “He drove me home at six thirty, and then I made dinner with my grandma.”
“And where had Ollie driven you?”
She moaned somewhat dramatically.
“Might I remind you that I’m an officer of the law?”
He was flat-out teasing her, so Makani steeled herself with a wry, defeated smile. “I honestly don’t know. It was some random cornfield off 275, between here and Troy. We made out. He got a call from work, and then we left.”
Chris made another notation on his notepad.
Makani sat up a bit straighter. “Why? What did he say?”
“Same thing.” He looked pleased with himself. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
She actually laughed, which made him laugh, too. “Can I go now? Is this over?”
He waved for her to remain seated. “Almost.”
Makani rebraced in anticipation of the inevitably awkward next question—What are your intentions with my brother?—which she would not answer, so she was caught off guard when Chris asked, “How much hunting experience do you have?”
“None.” Her brow furrowed. “My dad used to take me fishing sometimes, but I was never really into it. Does that count?”
“Did you ever help him gut the fish?”
“No.”
“How much experience would you say that you have with a knife?”
The blood drained from Makani’s face. “W-why would you ask me that?”
Chris looked up from scribbling. He cocked his head. “Because the person we’re trying to find has a certain level of skill with a knife and knowledge of anatomy.”
“No.” Her voice trembled. “No.”
Thankfully, he must have jumped to the conclusion that she was upset by the reason for the question rather than the question itself. “You’re okay,” he assured her, tucking away his notepad. “That’s all we needed to know.”
Her heart was racing as he led her back into the hallway.
“I still have to interview the administrators, but at least you get to go home soon, huh?” Chris held out his hand. “Until we meet again.”
Makani shook it. She wanted to say that it was nice to meet him. Instead, she rushed into the restroom.
She was already crying as she burst into the first stall—not for a specific reason, but for all of them. She wished that she were in Hawaii having a normal senior year. She wished that she could have been the appropriate blend of charming and sad for Chris. She wished that there weren’t psychopaths who killed for pleasure and made the world feel unsafe. She wished that Ollie were her boyfriend, and that she could make out with him again, preferably as soon as possible. And she wished that she weren’t so selfish to wish for a boyfriend when two of her classmates were dead.