“But maybe you didn’t find them right away. Can you walk us through it? Walk us through today, okay?”
I sigh. I would rather be anywhere else than here. I would rather be home, in bed, sleeping away this strange numbness. And when I’d wake up, maybe I’d find none of it had happened after all. Just a bad dream. That’s what it is. That’s what itmustbe. A horrific dream.
But Jones’s eyes are fixed on me expectantly.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks at last. “Sorry, I didn’t think to ask. Coffee? Water? Soda?”
“It’s fine,” I mumble. Of course he didn’t ask. No one offers the janitor’s daughter anything.
“Alright,” he says. “Well, whenever you want. Go ahead.”
I take a deep breath. My voice sounds odd in my ears, distant. There’s this heavy veil all around me that I just can’t seem to pierce. It beats down on the back of my eyes, making them ache. I lean my elbow on the table, and let my head rest on my openhand.
“I took the bus home. I’d been in the bus for more than three days. Before that, I was in college in California. When I got home, I called out to Dad and Mom, and said I was going to go take a shower. They didn’t answer.”
“Right,” he said, making another note. “So youdidtake a shower. That means you must have touched a few things.”
“Yeah, I guess I forgot about that.”
“But you didn’t see your mom in the bathroom?”
I suck in a breath. “No. Our toilet and shower are separated. The shower is on one end of the house, the toilet on the other. It’s a European thing, I think. At least, that’s what Mrs. Kent said.”
“I see.” He makes another note. “So first, you went straight to the shower. It didn’t strike you as odd that no one answered?”
I shrug again. “I guess I just assumed they hadn’t heard, or that I hadn’t heard their reply, or that they were out in the yard, or whatever. I didn’t think about it, honestly.”
“Sure, sure. And what next?”
“I just dropped my bag in the entrance, and took a shower. Then I got dressed…”
“So you left the shower to get dressed? You went to your room?”
“No, I got dressed in the bathroom.”
“The bathroom with the toilet?”
I frown. “No, the one with the shower.”
“There were clothes there?”
“Well, I got some from my bag.”
“So you didn’t leave your bag in the entrance. You must have brought it into the bathroom with the shower.”
I rub my eyes in confusion, impatience beating at my chest. “What does it matter where I left my bag? What does any of it matter? My parents are dead! Why are you here asking mestupid questions instead of looking for the murderer?”
“I’m just trying to get the facts straight,” he replies.
“Why?” I ask again. “What does it matter? Unless…” A sudden suspicion rises in my throat. “Are you trying to pin this on me?”
“Of course not.” He gives me a smooth smile that doesn’t make me any less suspicious. “It’s my job to get to the bottom of things. Right now, I don’t suspect anyone. But everything for the moment points to a murderer that your parents knew well. There was no sign of forced entry. Your mother was clearly not hiding, and your father doesn’t seem to have been either. Plus, the time of death corresponds more or less to the time of your arrival.”
My eyes widen. “How is that possible?”
“Times of death are approximative,” he clarifies. “There’s a twenty-minute window of time where it could have happened. Between about 3 p.m. and 3:20. Which means…”
He trails off, his voice thick with subtext. And I suppose I have enough of a bad reputation that suspicions might naturally point to me. The cheerful bookworm who came to Astley in the summer before fifth grade changed pretty drastically in high school. I became sarcastic and harsh. I guess it was my defense for being bullied so relentlessly. But no one remembers the bullies. Just angry, mean Piper.Pissed-off Piper,they got into the habit of calling me.
