Then Patrick says, “Fine.” He gestures for Ronan to follow him into the hallway. “But you didn’t hear it from us. Got it?”
“Fine.” Ronan squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.”
But in his absence, the fear creeps back in. So does the worry.
Questions swirl madly in my head; some I haven’t even had the chance to consider until now.
What if it was Justin, but they can’t find proof of it? What if they can’t figure out who did it at all? Will I have to move? Can I even afford to move, if I wanted to? The house is paid for, but I had to take out a home equity loan to help pay my mom’s medical bills and funeral expenses. Would I have enough left over for a down payment? Would I?—
“Are you fuckingkiddingme?” Ronan’s raised voice makes me jump. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Howdareyou insinuate?—”
My pulse rockets to triple speed.
“No one is insinuating,” Sage replies calmly. “You said you wanted to know. Now you do.”
I hurry to the bedroom door and peer down the hallway. Ronan’s face is red. Angry. Sage and Patrick appear calm. The other officer looks smug. “Just because you don’t like what we found,” Officer Kennis says, “doesn’t make it any less real.”
But what could they have found? Something implicating Justin? Phil? Or something completely different?
“Angel wouldnever,” Ronan growls. “And especially not with Haley in the house.”
What?
I can’t think of what they’d be talking about. What would I never do with Haley in the house?
So I scurry down the hall towards them. Ronan spots me first. “Angel,” he starts. “Just go back in the bedroom. I’ll figure this out.”
“Figure what out?” As the three officers turn to face me, I press, “ What wouldn’t I do with Haley here? What did you find?”
Sage and Patrick’s expressions are carefully neutral. But the third officer—Doug Kennis, I’m almost sure of it—looks at me with clear suspicion. “Drugs,” he tells me. “From the looks of it, at least a half-ounce of cocaine. At least, that’s what we’ve found so far.”
For a second, his words don’t compute.
Drugs? Cocaine? In my house?
I’ve never done any illegal drugs. Ever. And even if I did, I’d never allow them around Haley.
“What?” I ask in a breathless whisper. “Drugs? Here?”
Ronan hurries over to me. His arm comes around my waist, holding me steady. “Obviouslythey’re not yours,” he states in a tone that brooks no argument. “Whoever broke in must have dropped them. Didn’t you say Justin used to use? And Phil… everyone knows about his issues.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Sage says. “We’re not assuming anything yet.”
“The burglar dropped a bag of cocaine in herbedroom?” Officer Kennis asks with obvious skepticism.
Ronan snarls at him, “Yes. Thatcouldhappen. A sick, strung-out criminal could absolutely go into her bedroom. Look around. Drop something.”
I shudder. “Someone left drugs in my bedroom?” Tears prick at my eyes. “Do you think… did they touch my things?” Then anew and terrifying thought strikes me. “Am I in trouble? Am I going to be arrested on drug charges?”
“No,” Patrick answers quickly. “We have no evidence to support that. We’ll fingerprint the bag, and maybe we’ll find something useful.”
“I didn’t touch it,” I blurt. “It’s not mine. I’ve never… I wouldn’t…”
But everything slams into me at once, and I burst into tears.
Ronan turns me into his chest as I cry. His hand splays across my back, rubbing in circles. “Shh,” he murmurs. “No one thinks you did. You’re not in trouble. And you’re not going to jail.”
Through broken sobs, I manage, “But… What if… Haley… I can’t…”
