Like a Sister(68)

“We’re supposed to be talking about Zarah.”

Erin moved her bare leg slightly so it peeled off the plastic on the couch. “I’m getting there.”

“This has to do with Desiree’s pregnancy?”

“Pregnancy test. You can get a fake one on Amazon for $9.79. Gets here in two days if you have Prime.”

My gasp started loud, but I caught myself midway, faltering into a strangled intake of breath. Desiree hadn’t had a miscarriage. She hadn’t had an abortion. She hadn’t had a baby in any form.

“And you both thought this was okay?” I said. “Conning people for money?”

“He could afford it. All of them can.” For the first time since I’d exposed her, she sounded defiant.

Desiree had been many things. Selfish. Narcissistic. Addicted to the spotlight as much as she was to any drug. But the Desiree I had known—loved—didn’t steal credit cards and fake pregnancy tests. It made me scared for what else she’d done. What Erin was about to tell me. What had gotten her killed.

A phone rang again—Aunt E’s house line. I waited until she went to answer it before I said anything else, pretended it was because I didn’t want Aunt E to hear when I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear myself. “How does Zarah play into this?”

“The accident. Two years ago. Freck wasn’t driving.”

“I know that.” Now. It was why I had been desperate to find Zor-El. Then I realized what Erin was trying to say. “Desiree told you Zarah was driving the car?”

I’d assumed it was some man. Some stranger. Some random hookup. Not a girl Desiree had known her whole life. The one who’d been there her first day of school. First dance. First date.

Erin hesitated, then finally said, “No. Not outright.”

“So you’re lying. Again.” I was ready to call the cops back.

“After the thing with Free, the money didn’t last long. Desiree was ready to hit someone else. I told her to be patient, but she was anxious. I’m not sure if she liked the money or the power. We spoke about the accident, that she had blacked out but wasn’t driving. It was something she mentioned in passing but didn’t really want to talk about. Then a couple of months ago something happened. She suddenly got mad, was asking me how to get money out of the real driver. I told her it was a waste of time. We got into a fight, and she never brought it up again.”

“Then why do you think it was Zarah?”

“She was there that night.”

“A lot of people were there. It was a party.” I conveniently ignored that I’d been just as adamant it was Erin with just as little proof moments before. “You think Desiree tried to blackmail Zarah and instead Zarah killed her.”

More statement than question. She realized it too because she opened her mouth, then shut it again. Finally, she formed words. “She was there.”

“Yes, but even if Zarah was driving, why lie about it? And why kill Desiree over the truth? Desiree got a slap on the wrist. Zarah would’ve had the same lawyers. Gotten the same sentence.”

“That slap destroyed your sister’s career. Zarah just hit ten million followers. She’s not doing sponsored content. She’s got actual endorsements. A makeup line.”

She sounded convincing. But still. “If you’re so sure it was Zarah, why haven’t you told the police?” I said.

“Because I needed proof.” Erin pointed to the phone in my lap. “That’s why I kept Desiree’s phone when I realized she’d accidentally left it at the hotel that night. Desiree started hanging with Zarah the same time she started talking about the accident again. And I heard them arguing the night she died. Zarah kept saying she was sorry. That it was her fault.”

That was news. “Was this before or after your fight with Desiree?”

She didn’t blink. “I was still hooking up with Billy. Freck’d caught me texting him right before we went out. She didn’t like him any more than you do. Like I said, she was a good friend. She’d be happy to know I actually did hook up with someone else that night.” She laughed, then caught herself when she saw my expression. “I’m telling you the phone is key,” she said.

“Why not give the phone to the police? How do I know blackmail wasn’t your idea? Still is your idea.”

“I didn’t give the police the phone for the same reason you haven’t told them your suspicions. I don’t trust them. There has to be something in that phone. Been driving myself up the wall trying to figure out the passcode. You can only put in five attempts before you get a one-minute time-out. You fuck up the sixth time? Five-minute time-out. Seventh time? Fifteen minutes. You get it wrong ten times? Erases the data completely. Needless to say it’s been taking me a while.”

It served her right.

“Maybe you’ll have better luck,” she said.

“I doubt it.” If she could lie to me, I could most definitely lie to her. I glanced down and the phone woke up. Desiree’s smiling face staring right at me. Knowing what was behind that smile made me feel the same as not knowing what was behind the lock screen—both feelings scared me.

Aunt E came back in, using Kitty like a cane. She wasn’t aware of the turn the convo had taken. “That was Tam. The police closed Desiree’s case. It’s officially an accidental overdose.”