“That’s not what they want,” he said. “But the person they’re pretending to be, that isn’t real. They’re not Bri, they’re not Birdie, they’re not your friend.”
Billy sniffed again, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and looked at the picture again. His eyes hit on the pixels that made up Birdie’s face, and then he dodged away again.
“You could be making it up,” he said. His voice was tight and scratchy sounding in his throat. “I don’t know this is a real picture.”
Lara folded over in frustration, braced her elbows on the sink, and covered her mouth with her hand. She was scared for her son, but Cloister wasn’t. The defiance was gone out of Billy’s voice. Now he was trying to convince himself, not them, and it wasn’t working.
“It could be,” he said. “Unless we were sure she was guilty, though, why would we bother.”
“I don’t know,” Billy muttered.
“Me either,” Cloister said. He tapped Billy’s knee to get his attention back. “If we’re wrong, I’ll take you and Bri on a ride along one night. I don’t think I am, though.”
The sharp bump of Billy’s Adam’s apple jerked in his throat as he swallowed hard. He gave a small nod, and his chin dipped an inch as he turned to the tech who slid the keyboard toward him. Billy started to type, but his fingers stalled on the keys as though they still weren’t happy to betray their friend.
Chapter Twenty-Five
BEFORE SHEwent outside to take a call from “Grandma”—Ken’s mother; her mother had died years ago—Lara set a bowl of water by the back door. The dog had her face buried in it, and the pink of her tongue was visible through the clouded glass as she drank.
On the tech’s screen, Billy’s Skype message hung in stark black and white.
Where were U the other nite? Lost my phone. Only got home to the computer. Call me. U won’t believe wot happened.
The loose approach to the English language made Javi wince, but it matched the construction of the other messages in the account. Most had been composed on the phone, so short and sweet was the route Billy had taken.
Although their suspect didn’t seem to find it all that sweet. “Bri” hadn’t taken the bait. Not yet.
“Sometimes she—they—don’t answer for a while,” Billy said. “Her—their—dad doesn’t like them being on social media. That’s what they said, anyhow.”
“Probably working,” Cloister said quietly. He had a mug of coffee cradled in his hands, and he leaned back against the kitchen counter with his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. “We know he has a car, keeps it running, and most likely he’s a farmhand or laborer. So no breaks to check his email.”
Javi caught a gibe between his teeth. He still didn’t know what the hell he’d been thinking last night. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping dog cop was not a good reason to spend the night in his bed. He couldn’t have blamed Cloister if he thought it meant… something… and since it didn’t, that would have ruined their working relationship.
Luckily no matter the kick to his pride, no strings attached seemed to be what Cloister wanted too.
Probably, Javi admitted with a jab of bitter self-awareness, because he was an unpleasant bastard. Good in bed—he would give himself that—but out of it, he wasn’t much good at boyfriend stuff. It was fine. His job didn’t care about his emotional availability, and neither did Cloister. So he could do both with a clear conscience.
“Have they ever called you before?” he asked Billy.
“Couple of times,” Billy said. He wrinkled his nose. “It was always a bad connection, like crackly, and I could hardly hear them. She said it was the hotel they were staying in—old vents and no signal. Out in the boonies.”
Javi noted that. It wasn’t much of a clue, but liars often used the truth as much as they could. It was easier to remember, and for details that weren’t a preplanned part of their lie, it was right in front of them.
“I can’t believe I was so stupid,” Billy said, and anger jerked at his mouth. He scrubbed his arm impatiently over his face and dragged at the skin. “Maybe that’s why they picked on us—because I’m so stupid I’d fall for it. Only I fucked that up, and they took Drew instead.”
“He fooled other people,” Javi said. “He knows what he’s doing.”
“I still should have…. I shouldn’t have lied. I shouldn’t have talked to them,” Billy blurted in frustration. “This is all my fault. I wish I hadn’t lost my phone that night. I wish they’d taken me instead of Drew.”
“That wouldn’t have helped anything,” Javi said.
Billy gave him a scathing look. “It would have helped Drew.”
It was difficult to muster a coherent disagreement. The wrong brother being taken had helped the investigation. Without that mix-up, the police might never have realized there was a suspect other than teenage disaffection, but that wouldn’t be much comfort to Drew, wherever he was.
Cloister set his mug down and pushed himself off the counter. “This won’t either,” he said. “You weren’t taken. Drew was. What will help now is us finding who did the taking.”
Billy looked unconvinced.
