Take the Fall(73)

“It—it actually seemed like something Gretchen might’ve done.” Kirsten’s tone is short, her eyes downcast.

“So you immediately thought of me?” Fury mixes with the hurt already filling my chest. Does everyone believe we were this much alike? “Gretchen would never have done something like this. She didn’t do anonymous.”

Kirsten’s face reddens. She wraps her arms around herself. “I just . . . I thought you might be mad at me. If I hadn’t fought with Gretchen that night—”

“Kirsten, whoever sent these is sick. What happened to Gretchen was not your fault.” I hand the postcard back to her, anxious to get away from it. “I just wish I understood what this was about.”

“Maybe we should ask the sheriff.”

“I already showed him the one I got.”

She raises her eyebrows. “What did he say?”

“He thought it could be a prank, but he’s going to feel differently when he sees this.”

“I’ll take it to him. I’m going there next.”

Something in her voice makes me pause. “What for? Did something else happen?”

She looks at her hands. “Yeah . . . Alex Burke is out of jail.”

I can feel the blood drain from my face. I don’t even realize I’ve sat down until Kirsten sinks next to me on the bed.

“I overheard my parents talking,” she says. “Apparently he came up with an alibi.”

“But your dad saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s not denying that part, but he found some friend to say they dropped him off at our house and met him in Jamesville ten minutes later.” Her lip curls. “Guess there just wasn’t enough time for him to properly kill Gretchen.”

My limbs go numb. Maybe a solid arrest is too much to hope for . . . but how often can this happen? I think of Marcus’s grandmother covering for him and my stomach feels like it’s leading a revolt. “His friend could be lying.”

“I know, that’s why I wanted to talk to the sheriff.” Her voice quavers and when I look up she’s wiping her eyes. “I guess I didn’t realize how relieved I was. I thought the right person was in jail. Now, with this, I feel like I don’t know anything.”

I know the feeling. My head spins at the thought of starting over with my list of suspects.

I reach out slowly and touch her hand. Gretchen was never very sensitive, but Kirsten is nothing like Gretchen.

“What can I do to help?”

She shrugs. “We all just have to wait and hope the sheriff can do his job.” She sets her postcard on the bed between us. “Maybe this will lead to something.”

I give the writing a wary look. “It gives me the creeps. Who do you think might have sent them?”

Her eyes flash, but I notice her cheeks are dry. “Sometimes I think Gretchen had more enemies than friends.”

I swallow, thinking of last night with Marcus. “I know she did.”

She sits up straighter, staring at me with a frown.

“The thing with Tornado—it wasn’t an accident.” I stand and turn to face her, my right arm throbbing at the wrist. “I didn’t know for sure until you said he was your horse. She was annoyed that I didn’t trade horses when she asked. She had me hold his reins. She even showed me just how to wrap them tight around my arm.”

“You didn’t know he was mine?”

I sink into the desk chair, crushing my dress, but I don’t care. “She only said he reminded her of a horse she once had.”

Kirsten shakes her head, her jaw trembling. “She made sure to tell me it wasn’t personal. She wanted our dad to have him euthanized after he threw her, but he donated him instead. There was nothing wrong with Tornado except he spooked easily. It was just bad luck their paths ever crossed again.”

“I’m sorry.” A lump rises in my throat. “I didn’t even know he’d been put down.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?” Her tone is sharp. “If you’d just—”

“People tended to have accidents around Gretchen.” I look at her without raising my head. “I guess after a while you want to believe stuff that isn’t true.”

She doesn’t say anything. The hum from the diner drifts up through the floorboards until I work up the nerve to look at her again.

“Did she—did she ever do anything directly to you?”

“She would’ve had to speak to me a little more often for that.”

The bitterness in her tone catches me off guard. “I don’t understand.”

She looks down. “I don’t know, maybe she just didn’t care enough to bother.”

I think of Reva, Tyrone, Aisha, Marcus . . . everyone Gretchen paid “special” attention to. “Maybe she was showing she cared by not screwing with you.”

Kirsten’s eyes widen.

We both jump at a knock on my door. I didn’t hear anyone on the stairs with it closed. Kirsten tucks the postcard back in her purse.

“Come in.”

My mother’s face is strained when she enters the room.

I look at the clock. “I’m sorry, Mom, we lost track of time.”

“Sonia, the sheriff is downstairs to see you.” Her voice is controlled and I know instantly he already told her Alex Burke is free.