I didn’t answer, my face burning, sweat starting on my brow.
“I know you don’t want to tell on anyone,” Bob said gently. “But it’s important. This is a murder investigation, Riley.”
“Listen, kid.” Lincoln stepped forward, forcing me to look at him. “You don’t want an obstruction of justice charge or anything else that’d mess up your record. You’re a senior, right?”
I nodded.
“Smart, too, from what I hear. Colleges don’t look too favorably on a criminal record.” Clearly he was the bad cop.
“It was Moose,” I said softly. God, I hoped he’d understand. And that he had nothing to hide.
“Moose?” Lincoln said impatiently.
“Eugene Martin,” Bob told him. “That other kid out there.”
I looked up in time to see them exchange a meaningful glance. My stomach rolled. “Are we done?” I asked, starting to stand. I’d just thrown Moose under the bus.
“One more thing,” Bob said, holding up a finger. “Where were you last night?”
“Me? I was at the Dash party. At the Peterses’.”
Bob nodded. “Until when?”
“Uh . . .” Holy shit, were they checking my alibi? It was amazing how even the idea of it short-circuited my brain. I couldn’t remember at all what time we left. “Till maybe twelve? One?” I shook my head. “I’m not sure.”
Lincoln wrote something down. “And what happened after you left?”
“Trip drove me home.”
“Just you?”
“No, all of us. Me and Sarah, Natalie . . .” I trailed off, staring at Lincoln, who was scribbling furiously in his notebook.
“So you were at the Clearys’ house last night.” Bob met my eyes, and I could feel that my ears were bright red.
“For a minute. To drop off Nat.”
“But you don’t remember what time?”
“I . . . I’m not sure.”
“And then you were back there. First thing this morning,” Bob said. “When we spoke.”
I nodded.
“How did you know her dad had been killed?”
“Tannis called me.”
“Tannis Janssen?”
I nodded.
“How’d she know?”
“Trip heard it. On the police scanner.”
Bob nodded. Lincoln looked up from his notes to ask, “So where were you between midnight and two a.m.?”
“At home,” I said. “I mean, I think I got there before midnight. And then I went to bed.”
“Can anyone verify that? Your mom?”
I shook my head. “No. She was at work.”
Lincoln wrote something down, then looked up at me, his eyes sharp. “Is there anything else you think we should know?”
Immediately that night at the cave jumped to mind. How could it not, after Nat had predicted this very thing? I could feel my neck hot, cheeks flushed. There was no way I was going to tell them. I shook my head. “No.”
Lincoln raised his eyebrows, slowly. “Nothing?” he asked.
It occurred to me in that instant that they’d be talking to the rest of them—Trip, Sarah, Tannis. Maybe already had. And maybe one of them had talked about the binoculars. But I couldn’t backtrack now. “No,” I said. “Not that I can think of.”
Lincoln eyed me for an extra second, then slowly closed his notebook. “If you change your mind, Riley, you give us a call, ’kay?” He stood, eyes on me the whole time.
“Thanks for cooperating, Riley,” Bob said. “We’ll be in touch.”
I nodded, stifling the urge to wipe my forehead or throw up, and left the office.
CHAPTER 9
WALKING INTO SCHOOL MONDAY, YOU could see it in everyone’s eyes, even before you heard the whispers.
“The gun belonged to her father,” the principal’s secretary was saying when I went in for my late pass. “It was still at the scene, and—” She saw me listening and dropped her voice.
“. . . questioning her all night,” Caitlin Trahn told a friend at her locker, flipping her dark hair before adding, “I mean, my dad said she was in the house . . .”
The best information came from Matty Gretowniak. His mom worked for Children’s Services. “Yeah, she was inside,” he answered when I caught up with him in the hall before physics. “Said she was in her room sleeping. Didn’t hear or see a thing.”
“Really?”
“Seems pretty far-fetched,” he observed. “I know you’re friends with her, but c’mon, a gun goes off in your house—your trailer—and you don’t notice?”
I could see it on other people’s faces too. I wasn’t the only one wondering if Nat might have done it. But I didn’t want to hash that out with Matty. “Soooo,” I said, looking at him pointedly. “You and Tannis?”
His response was immediate. “What’d she tell you?”
“Plenty.”
“Really?” He had such a weird, nervous look that I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear any more about whatever had happened. I was already getting some awful mental pictures of the two of them. “No, man. I’m just messing with you.”
“Oh,” he said, relieved. “Okay.”
Matt and I headed for our seats in physics, and I peeked over at Sarah, who was already watching me, her eyes serious. Trip had told me the police had been to see her on Sunday too. And him. And Tannis.
Mr. Ruskovich shut the door, facing us somberly. “I’m sure you’ve all heard about Natalie Cleary’s father?” Everyone nodded. “Tragic,” he said, shaking his head. “In light of it I think it appropriate to suspend our study of forensics.” He scanned the room and, maybe seeing some disappointment, added, “At least for today. These things take time to sink in, and I don’t want to move ahead with this project if it hits too close to home for anyone.” He paused, and then added, “We’ll decide sometime next week, but in the interim, please feel free to talk to me about it—in class or privately—if you like. Okay?”
We nodded.
“What I’d like to cover today instead is—”
“Please, not particle theory,” Matty muttered.
“I’ll spare you,” Mr. Ruskovich said. “But only because I think we’re all processing enough right now. Let’s discuss kinematics.”