“Sir.” I leaned forward, pressing my hands on the table. “Alden wasobsessedwith Georgia. He followed her everywhere. He’d show up out of the blue sometimes when we went out. We told Georgia he was creepy, but she said Alden was just a little needy. Scout and I…” I braced myself. “We didn’t push her on it because of who Alden’s dad was. But she was with him all night—ask anyone at the party.” The famous Easton Banks Christmas party, now a murder site. The glittering guest list, a suspect pool. I could hardly wrap myhead around it. “Georgia must’ve said something he didn’t like, and he flew into a rage.”
“I’ve noted your theory,” Sutherland said calmly. “As well as the accusations your companions have leveled against Mr. Banks—”
“Because it was him!” Why was he brushing me off? It was obvious Alden had done this to Georgia. Scout and Brooks and I, we’d known it from the start. I’d been the one to dial 911 with shaking hands, with Scout still screaming in the background. I’d told the responder they needed to come as fast as possible, because Alden Banks had… hurt Georgia, put his hands around her neck, made her bleed. There was no one else who could’ve done it. “Why aren’t you listening to me?”
“Ms. Cruz, please remain calm.” Detective Sutherland finally looked me in the eyes. He had deep creases under his, as if he’d gotten as little rest as I had. “I’m not saying we won’t explore Mr. Banks as an option. I’m saying we can’t jump to conclusions. Now, please walk me through the night. You’re an important witness.”
I swallowed my anger and forced myself to speak evenly, repeating everything I’d already told the officers at the Bankses’ house. By the time I was finished, I was so exhausted I could barely keep my words straight. So when the detective thanked me in a clipped tone and hustled out, I let the female officer usher me into the hallway. It was as cold as the interrogation room, but at least the dimness was pierced by fluorescent lights, one of which revealed Scout at the end of the hall in her sequin dress, her arms wrapped protectively over herself, the track marks of her mascara stark against her cheeks. She looked so alone.
“Scout,” I said, and that was all it took. She rushed down the hall. We said nothing, just rocked back and forth, holding on for dear life.
Someone cleared their throat.
We turned, still holding each other. The female officer from my interrogation hovered a few feet away. I thought she’d followed Detective Sutherland, but apparently she hadn’t.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Her voice was surprisingly deep, and accented in a way that reminded me of my grandmother. She stood tense in the hall, as if she couldn’t decide whether to stay or go.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I thought you should know…” The officer’s voice lowered to a whisper. “The reason Sutherland is being cagey about Alden is because his family has closed ranks around him.”
Scout stiffened. “What does that mean?”
The woman’s dark eyes swept the hallway. “There are three lawyers in my captain’s office right now, arguing against bringing Alden in. Three lawyers with slick suits and big fancy watches.”
Scout’s eyes searched the officer’s face. “But that doesn’t matter, right? Alden killed her, and you’ll prove it. There will be—what are those lawyers called, the ones who work with cops?”
“Prosecutors,” I said gently.
“Right, our side will have prosecutors.” Scout was trying to appear confident, but there was a pleading edge to her voice. “And evidence.”
The female cop grimaced. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, but we’re having trouble tying Alden to the scene. They aren’t finding any defensive wounds on him. And with your sister, obviously, the medical examiner will do a thorough check, but there doesn’t appear to be blood or skin under her nails. They don’t think she was violated… sexually.” She looked away. “Which is good,” she added quickly.
I drew in a deep breath, willing myself not to cry.
“But it also means less evidence. And, frankly, too much evidence in the rest of the house.” The cop stepped closer, until I could see the smattering of freckles across her nose. “It’s a problem that so many people were at that party last night. It’s DNA overload. So if you can think of anything that could put us on the right track…”
Scout’s hands were trembling. “We’ll try.”
Frown lines deepened on the officer’s face. “The father—he seems like he knows his way around the legal system. I would prepare yourselves.”
I lifted my chin. “For what?”
She looked between us for a moment, and I wondered if she saw what the rest of the cops must: two scantily clad, dismissible girls. Being a queen bee held no power here. Within the walls of this station, in this world of violence, Scout and I weren’t serious people. I wanted this officer to look at me and see someone formidable. If she could just give me one sign that she saw the potential, I knew I could will the role to life.
But instead, her eyes softened with pity. “I might be new, but I’ve already seen this story play out too many times. I figured you deserved to be warned. Accuse this boy, and you’re starting a war.” She turned and walked away.
“Wait,” Scout called. Her hands were still shaking. “We didn’t thank you—we don’t even know your name.”
The officer turned and smiled. “It’s Ellis. Officer Carmen Ellis.”
Chapter 8Grey, the Detective
PRESENT DAY
Grey rapped on the window of Detective Ellis’s station wagon. “I got Simon Markham’s file,” she huffed, dropping into the passenger seat after Ellis unlocked the door. “That was a bureaucratic nightmare.”
“Yeah, the higher-ups don’t really like it when we poke our noses into closed cases,” Ellis said from behind the wheel. “Trust me, I know from experience. I couldn’t even get my hands on Markham’s file—I had to hear about him from another source. The brass must like you.”
