My mind casts back to that night, searching, thinking.You were the only one present at the scene.No, no I wasn’t. The image of Callie wrenching open the front door and asking for Margot floods back into my brain again.
I straighten in my chair, meet Flynn’s direct stare. “I know how this all looks, and you’re right, there’s something I left out. Something important. When I was blacked out, I heard a loud noise that jolted me awake. A pounding at the door. It was Callie, looking for Margot, and she seemed frantic.”
Flynn narrows his eyes at me. Shakes his head. “Mrs. Jenkins returned home just after nine o’clock, where she remained all night with her husband.”
“That’s not true! She was there!”
“You’re reaching, Sophie, you really are. And before you point the finger at Jamie, he was home with his parents just after midnight. Look, even with all this evidence, I still don’t have enough to arrest you. But I have to advise you that you’re our main person of interest at this point.”
My skin grows cold. My posture slumps from the adrenaline draining from my body. I’m numb. I can’t do anything other than stare at the table.
“You’re free to go now,” Flynn says with a dismissive flick of his hand. “But you shouldn’t even think of leaving town.”
I push my chair back and stand. Turn and head to the door. As I clasp down on the metal handle to open it, Flynn fires a parting shot at me.
“And, Sophie, I would highly recommend you get a lawyer.”
50
I’M PARKED OUTSIDEof Graham’s office. I need to tell him what’s going on and I don’t want to wait until tonight.
I texted him a few minutes ago.
Me:Can you come outside? I’m here...
Graham:Ooooh, a surprise visit. I like it. Be right out.
His enthusiasm pierced my heart, making me feel even worse about what I was going to tell him.
—
I WATCH HIMstride to the car, sandy blond hair being licked by sunlight, his hands jammed in the pockets of his khakis.
He climbs in, curves a hand around the back of my neck, and moves his soft lips against mine.
“Couldn’t wait till tonight to see me, eh?” He rests his hand on my thigh, delight twinkling in his eyes.
Placing my hand on top of his, I stare straight ahead. It will be easier to deliver this news if I’m not locked in his dreamy gaze.
“I’m just going to come out and say it.”
I feel his fingers twitch underneath mine.
“I just left the police station. I’ve been framed for Abby’s murder.”
He yanks his hand away. “Sophie, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I know it sounds insane, but just hear me out.”
I turn and meet his eyes and tell him all about shooting the gun—how Margot urged me to use it—how she framed me. And about how Margot is banging Brad. And her ominous text to him about Abby.
“Wait,” he says, with true disdain clouding his face. “Margot’s sleeping with her best friend’s son? Sophie, how old is he? Is that even legal?” He shudders as he asks this.
And, of course, I know the answer. It’s legal. In Texas, consensual age is seventeen. Brad and Jamie are eighteen. I googled it late the other night when my mind was spiraling out of control, wondering if I was going to get locked up for being with Jamie.
“I told you these women were crazy. Especially Margot.”
He gnaws on his lower lip, thrums his fingers against the seat.
