Take the Fall(55)

Sheriff Wood steps toward me, and that’s when I notice Kirsten sitting behind him against the wall, her eyes wide and scared.

“What’s going on?”

The sheriff greets me with a brief hug. “Some things have happened this morning. We’ve already spoken to your parents, but they wanted to make sure you and Kirsten heard it from us first. Why don’t you sit down.”

Kirsten tenses as I sink into the chair beside her, but the next thing I know she’s squeezing my hand. I stare at her long, slender fingers laced with mine. Her nails are bare, but rounded. Not carefully painted like Gretchen’s, not chewed and raw like my own. I don’t see the slightest trace of red ink, not that I expected to. But I can’t help studying everyone’s hands.

The adults in the office are facing us, but as Sheriff Wood clears his throat, something catches my eye in the window behind Principal Bova. I look over in time to see Marcus sink down behind the cracked-open door.

“Sonia, we got a call from your aunt Dina early this morning,” the sheriff says. “She was picking up her car at a garage over in Jamesville when she thought she spotted Gretchen’s Mercedes.”

My jaw drops.

I look from the sheriff to each of the deputies until I realize I have a death grip on Kirsten’s hand.

“The plates were removed, but we confirmed it’s hers. After some initial questions, we took one of the technicians, Alex Burke, into custody. Does that name ring a bell for either of you?”

Kirsten and I exchange a look, but I can tell by her face she’s as confused as I am.

The sheriff takes a folder from Shelly and holds a mug shot up in front of us. The guy has close-cropped hair, a deep tan like someone who works outside, and there’s something about his eyes that makes it hard to look away. But I’ve never seen him before.

Kirsten shakes her head and I follow suit. If Sheriff Wood is disappointed, he does an excellent job hiding it.

“This is going to be in the news real fast,” he continues. “I’ve spoken with both your parents, and they want you to be prepared.”

My chest feels like it might explode. “Does this mean you think he murdered Gretchen?”

The sheriff gives Kirsten a wary glance, but she’s sitting forward, as eager as I am to hear what he says. “Okay, listen, you girls are not to repeat what I’m going to tell you, understand?”

We both nod.

“This Burke kid claims he knew Gretchen . . . that they had some kind of relationship. He could be our guy. There’s likely going to be some gossip around all of this, but I need the two of you to stay strong. Finding this guy with Gretchen’s car is a major break in the case. We’re a lot closer to figuring out exactly what happened to her. I just need you to sit tight while this information develops.”

I nod again, but that’s all I can manage through the sudden buzzing in my head. I want to get up and shout, cry—run around the room—but all I can do is sit and listen, trying desperately to wrap my mind around everything I’m hearing. That Gretchen had a relationship with some car mechanic she never mentioned and now the cops think he might’ve been her killer.

I’m afraid to hope it’s that simple.

“Of course, Sheriff,” Kirsten says, solemn and attentive. “Anything we can do to help.”

I look up in time to see Principal Bova escorting the sheriff and deputies out the door. There’s no sign of Marcus in the hall, and I wonder if he heard all of that.

“Do you want me to drive you home, Sonia?” Kirsten hovers in front of me, her face clouded with concern. “I’m sure you could be excused for the day.”

“No—” I rise from my chair too quickly, letting my bag slide out of my lap and hit the floor. “Thanks, no, I need to stay. I have an exam this afternoon. My mom will just worry more if I go home.”

Kirsten stoops to pick up my backpack, but when I remember the postcard, I yank the strap out of her hands.

“Sorry—I’m sorry,” I say, forcing myself to exhale.

“It’s okay,” she says, leading the way toward the door. “That was all . . . really unexpected.”

“That’s a good word for it,” I mutter, and then I notice the troubled look on her face and I feel awful. Catching a killer won’t make her situation easier. “Are you okay? I mean, with—”

“My sister’s secret life?” She shrugs just as the bell rings. “Gretchen never talked to me about the life she didn’t keep secret. I guess this is just more of the same for me.”

I shake my head. It’s new for me, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. I don’t remember a time Gretchen passed a hot guy on the street without gushing to me afterward. I can’t imagine her carrying on an entire relationship without telling me. But she didn’t mention she’d made the ethics website real either.

I touch Kirsten’s arm. “I never understood why she closed you out like that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” The hall is getting crowded and I can tell she wants to get away, get to class, as much as I do. “Let me know if you want a ride home later or if you’re going with Aisha. Good luck on your exam.”

She disappears into the surge of students. I make my way alone toward history, and while my step feels lighter than it has in weeks, one detail sticks like an unsettling sliver in my head. Why would a car mechanic from the next town bother putting pictures and postcards in my locker?