Lovely Girls(59)

“My phone? Why?”

“We can download the GPS data. It would show us where you were on Thursday night.”

“I don’t think—” I began, but before I could continue, Alex cut me off.

“No,” she said. “You can’t have my phone.”

Detective Reddick gave her a long, measured look. “We can get a warrant for it.”

Alex shook her head. “I’m not giving it to you.”

“I’d like you to leave now,” I said.

I walked to the door and held it open for the detectives. The two men stood reluctantly. But as they filed out of the living room, Detective Reddick turned to give a last lingering look in Alex’s direction that chilled me to the core.

“Thank you for your time,” Detective Monroe said with a nod. “We’ll be in touch.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE




* * *





KATE

I wasn’t able to take a deep breath until the two detectives were safely out of the house. I closed the door behind them and then locked it. I stood there for a moment, waiting for the blind panic that had engulfed me to pass.

We’ll be in touch, Mike Monroe had said. What did that mean? Would they be back with a warrant?

Alex wandered out of the living room. She seemed to be reading my thoughts. “Can they really get a warrant to come back and take my phone?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. I know they need probable cause to arrest someone, but I don’t know what the standard is for getting a warrant.”

“My phone is private,” Alex said. She seemed to be missing the larger, existential threat that the police posed.

“I don’t think that matters to them,” I said numbly. “They’re viewing you as a possible suspect in Callie’s death.”

“They can’t be. I didn’t do anything. They’re probably just talking to everyone who knew Callie.”

“But Callie just died yesterday, and the police were at our house today. That means you must be high on their priority list. I’m going to start looking for a criminal defense attorney. I think we’re going to need one.”

Alex stared at me for a long moment. I wondered whether, finally, she was starting to appreciate the danger she was in. But then she shrugged, turned, and headed upstairs to her room again.



Joe stopped by in the late afternoon before his work shift. I’d called him after the police left, and he’d immediately volunteered to bring Alex and me supper. His arms were full of reusable grocery bags. He set them down on the kitchen island and then reached into one bag and pulled out a bouquet of perfect white roses.

“For you,” he said, presenting the flowers to me.

“Thank you,” I exclaimed. “They’re beautiful! Let me put them in water.”

I arranged the roses in a fluted vase while Joe unpacked the bags. He pulled out a large pan of lasagna and a loaf of garlic bread ready for the oven. These were followed by a platter of sliced tomatoes and mozzarella, a large tossed salad, and a plate stacked high with brownies. I stared at the sheer quantity of food as he unpacked it onto the kitchen island.

“You didn’t say what Alex likes to eat, so I brought crowd favorites,” he explained.

“Are we expecting a crowd? You’ve brought enough to feed one.”

“I’m a feeder. I probably should have warned you about that. At the first sign of stress, I start cooking.”

“Do I need to do anything?”

“Not really. The lasagna needs to cook for an hour at three hundred fifty degrees. Then stick the garlic bread in when there’s about twenty minutes left on the lasagna. Toss the salad with the dressing at the last minute, and that’s it. Do you need me to write any of that down?”

“No, I’ll remember. This was incredibly nice of you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Joe glanced at me. “The police came by my condo today after we spoke. They wanted me to confirm what you and Alex told them. That I was here on Thursday night with you, and that Alex was out until one.”

My stomach plummeted. I had meant what I told Alex—it was a bad sign that the police had shown up on our doorstep so quickly. Now they had already verified my alibi. That meant they were focusing on us. Or, more specifically, on Alex.

“The problem is that Alex says she was alone that night. Which isn’t surprising. She hasn’t made any friends here, or at least none that I know of. But that means she doesn’t have an alibi for when Callie was killed. And apparently that, combined with the fact that Callie and her friends bullied Alex, is enough for the police to treat her as a suspect.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police that she was here, home with you?” Joe turned to look at me. “I would have backed you up.”

“I couldn’t have asked you to lie,” I said. “You might have gotten in trouble.”

Joe kissed me on the forehead. “I can handle it. Trouble’s my middle name.”

“I think that saying means that you cause trouble,” I said, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Maybe you’re right.” When Joe smiled at me, the edges of his eyes creased. “I would have backed you up, though.”