"I'd rather not disclose that," he says, holding his cup up as Ana fills it with coffee.
"I'm surprised I haven't heard anything," Brock says.
"It doesn't involve you," Roman says. "This was about Jackson."
"Who is dating my niece. When Rumor was called in for questioning yesterday, the police treated her as though she were a suspect. When we left I requested the police inform us of any new developments in the case. They should've at least called my lawyer."
"You know how the police are." Roman sips his coffee. "In the other girl's case it seemed that we were always the last to know when they had new information." He sets his coffee cup down. "Speaking of that, have you heard anything regarding the new evidence?"
Brock shakes his head. "Unfortunately, no. We keep asking for details but they're remaining tight-lipped. I'm starting to think this new evidence doesn't exist and that this is simply Andrea's parents making yet another attempt to turn this into something it isn't."
"Why would they do that?" I ask. "Wouldn't they want it to just go away so they wouldn't have to keep reliving that night?"
"They refuse to accept it was an accident," Brock says. "They feel the need to blame someone."
"Did the cops ask you stuff about Andrea when you were at the police station?" I ask Jackson.
"No, they only asked me about Kristen."
"They don't need to ask him about it," Braden says, coming into the kitchen. "They know he did it."
"Braden!" Brock scolds.
Braden opens the drawer that has his protein bars and takes one out. "Give it up, Dad. You're not getting the part. You're too old."
Brock purses his lips, his whole body stiffening. If he could, I'm pretty sure he'd get up and punch Braden for saying that.
"Braden, please go to your room," Brock says as calmly as possible, although it's clear from his stern tone and tight lips that he's furious.
"Go ahead and tell him," Braden says, walking over to Roman. "Tell him he's not getting the part so he can stop making an ass of himself."
Brock shoots up from his chair. "Braden! To your room! Now!"
Braden laughs. "Taking the side of a killer and letting your niece date him just so you get a movie role? Fucking pathetic." He walks off.
Brock waits until he's gone, then sits back down at the table. "I'm terribly sorry for that. Braden hasn't been himself since the case was reopened."
Roman gets up. "I'm going to head back to the house. I have phone calls to make." He sighs. "We're going to have to delay casting for several more days."
Brock shoves his chair back and hurries to stand up. "Is there any way I can help? I'm happy to assist with the calls. I'll be here all day."
"Thank you, but no. I need to do this myself."
Brock's phone rings and he checks it. "It's the lawyer. I'll call her back. Roman, are you sure you can't stay?"
"The lawyer," he says, pointing at Brock's phone. "I'm curious to see if it's something involving Jackson. Do you mind answering the call while I'm here?"
"Of course not." Brock answers the call. "Yes, Ms. Wietz, how can I help you?"
I stand up, my heart pounding, worried she's calling with more bad news. I don't even want to know.
Jackson stands beside me, his arm around my shoulder, whispering in my ear, "Stop worrying. Maybe it's something good."
I doubt it. Since moving here, it seems all I ever get is bad news.
"I see." Brock nods and looks at me. "Very well. I'll tell her. Thank you for calling."
"What'd she say?" I ask, gripping Jackson's arm, my nerves messing with my stomach, making me feel sick.
