I ignore him, instead holding the second painting up. “Jen, the girl who was killed on Friday. She had flowers in her hair, just like this.”
He keeps the painting out of his line of view. “This is an ongoing investigation with the Blackwood Police Department,” he replies, as if the response has been programmed into him.
“I’ll go there if you agree I’m onto something! Look, two girls have been killed in ways that look just like these paintings. There are four paintings in the gallery altogether. What does that say to you?”
“Felicity, I cannot talk to you,” he repeats, tugging at his collar. He’s nervous, and I wonder how close he was to losing his job before he got sent here.
“It means there are going to be two more murders!” I shout, slapping my hand on the desk, unable to keep my cool any longer. “Why won’t you listen to me?”
“Miss Keller, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Officer Shaw says, his eyes wide but his voice calm, almost robotic. “If you have any information that you think can help the police with their ongoing investigation, then you should go to the main station in Blackwood.” He unbuttons his collar as the overhead strip lights pick out the beads of sweat on his top lip.
“Fine,” I huff, sweeping up my things and pushing back the chair with a loud metallic scrape. I don’t even mention the tarot cards. If I start talking about the occult, he’ll probably run away and leave me here.
I push past him into the corridor, ready to storm away, when his voice stops me.
“Miss Keller?” I turn round, breathing hard but hoping he’s changed his mind. Instead, he approaches me and holds out a hand. “Take this. We give them out during orientation, and byall accounts they’re pretty unbreakable. I don’t know what’s going on in Blackwood at the moment, but it might keep you safe.” I study the little black box attached to a key chain.
“A rape alarm?” I scoff, folding my arms. “Someone is going around town murdering women and you think a really loud noise will help?” Officer Shaw opens his mouth and closes it again without saying anything. Then he places the alarm on the seat outside his office, retreats and gently closes the door. I stare after him in disbelief. “Enjoy your coffee,” I mutter, my blood boiling as I turn to leave.
I hesitate for a second, then stride back to the seat and swipe the alarm, stuffing it into my jacket pocket without looking through the window. It might not be the outcome I wanted, but I’m not turning down a personal alarm, given the circumstances.
I storm out of the empty building and enter the courtyard, sunlight now streaming into the open space. I turn in the direction of the main road, head down as I march angrily toward home. How dare he not even entertain me? He obviously has no idea what he’s doing, and he didn’t even look at the documents, let alone allow me to explain my theory.
I’m so lost in my thoughts I almost pass the small café, but the smell of freshly baked bread breaks through my morbid musings and I duck in, joining the already long line at the counter. I order half a dozen breakfast pastries, adding two huge double-chocolate muffins and our favorite lavender lattes at the last minute. Izzy can’t shout at me if her mouth is full of cake. In theory, anyway. I secure the goods and head home, my phone buzzing with a call from Izzy as I unlock the front door.
“I’m here,” I call, pushing open the door.
She appears at the living room door dressed in pajamas, a blue satin bonnet still covering her hair. “Who are you and what have you done with Fliss?” she demands half-heartedly, a yawn drowning out my name. She stretches and stops midway, sniffing loudly. “Did you buyallthe pastries?”
“Almost.” Her eyes light up as I hold up the coffee caddy and the brown paper bag that’s now dotted with spots of grease. “And I need to talk to you about someth—”
“It can wait.” She trades me a business card for the bag and I follow her to the kitchen. “This was on the welcome mat. Looks like it was pushed through the letter box between you leaving and me waking up.” The card is white and bears a small blue logo that millions of people up and down the country would recognize. It’s from the police. Detective Youssef’s name is written across the top in script, followed by the station address and contact details.
“Is that it? You didn’t speak to anyone?”
“You haven’t looked at your messages this morning?”
“No, I was busy…Why?”
“Do it,” Izzy says, her mouth already full of cinnamon bun. There’s icing on the end of her nose.
I hand Izzy her latte and we sit at the table, where I start to pick at an almond croissant while I unlock my phone. There’s one new message in the group chat, from a number that Noah just added.
Unknown:The police know Jen was at the party on Friday. I panicked and toldMom I wasn’t there because I’m on my last warning and she will lock me up if she finds out I had weed. Need you all to avoid talking to them or don’t tell them about me until I figure this all out, otherwise I’m in deep shit.
I put the phone down and blow out a deep breath. “I don’t like that one bit.”
“Right?” Izzy sighs. “You were right, Jake does have a badvibe.”
“I wonder if his mom will be taken off the case when she finds out Jake was here. There’s probably messages from him on Jen’s phone.”
“I guess it would be a conflict of interest,” Izzy says. She removes the lid from her coffee, and the soothing scent of lavender blooms from the cup. “You think they’ll come back if we don’t pay them a visit?”
“Probably. Maybe weshouldgo in and see them? We just avoid talking about Jake.”
“I can’tlieto the police, Fliss.”
“It’s not lying, we just won’t mention him.”
