Lovely Girls(65)

Scott Jones raised his hand, signaling that he would handle this question. “My client will not be answering questions at this time.”

“Who’s your client, her or her daughter?” Detective Reddick asked, jerking his chin toward me.

“They’re both my clients,” Scott said staunchly.

“Why do you want to talk to Alex?” I asked.

“She told us to speak to Daphne Hudson and Shae Thacker about where they were on Thursday night,” Detective Reddick said. “I asked them. They each told me they were home, and their parents confirmed that.”

“Okay,” I said. “That doesn’t answer my question, though.”

“There’s only one teenager, other than Callie Nord, whose presence was unaccounted for that night,” the detective said. “And that’s your daughter.”

“Kate.” Scott’s tone was firm. “No more questions.”

This time, I took my attorney’s advice.





CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT




* * *





KATE

After the police left with our belongings in tagged plastic bags, and Joe left to do the predinner prep at his restaurant, and Scott left for wherever he went to when he wasn’t in my living room, I surveyed the mess the police had left behind. They had not been neat when they picked apart our lives. It was like unpacking all over again, but this time with all my files scattered across the floor and our clothes spilling out of drawers.

I called Alex’s school on the house phone. The attendance office confirmed that Alex had been marked absent all day. Apparently, in these digital days, attendance was taken in every class and sent electronically to the office so that they could monitor the students who ditched school midday. I tried calling Alex directly; it kept going straight to her voice mail.

I wasn’t sure whether I should wait for Alex at home or go to the school car line to see whether she would be there, waiting for a ride. Ever since her tennis team practices had been canceled, I’d been picking her up directly after school. She hadn’t driven since the day of the accident, and she refused to ride the bus. I’d been so eager to make the transition to Florida easy for her, I’d given in.

I was suddenly angry. Very angry. A white-hot fury pressed on my chest and caused my vision to swim. How dare she disappear again? And today of all days?

All I had ever wanted was to keep my daughter safe. And her response was to hide what happened the night Callie died from me. To give the police information they were already using against her. And now she’d skipped school just when the spotlight on her was at its brightest.

I knew teenagers made mistakes. They drank too much at parties or dated the wrong person. But the mistakes Alex was making were the kind that could ruin her life. Not just in the short term, but every day she had left on earth.

I picked up my car keys and headed out the door.



The school car line was always an ordeal. Dozens and dozens of cars snaked around the poorly laid out parking lot as parents waited to pick up their teenagers. The kids were almost never paying attention to which car had pulled up to the pickup point or were dillydallying inside instead of heading straight out after the last bell. The parents waited endlessly, growing increasingly irritated at how long it all took. I tapped my fingers against the wheel.

Suddenly, the SUV in front of mine stopped abruptly, and the driver’s door was flung open. It was only when Genevieve stepped out of her vehicle that I realized I’d been behind her enormous white Cadillac Escalade ever since joining the car line. I’d been so distracted, I hadn’t noticed. She strode toward my car, dressed in head-to-toe lavender Lululemon yoga wear. It was clear from her narrowed eyes and pinched lips that she wasn’t coming to apologize for her last ugly outburst. I looked around wildly, wondering whether I could get out of the car line, but I was boxed in.

Unbelievable, I thought, stunned at her arrogance. I was pretty sure that she was the reason the police had ripped apart my house that morning, that she was the one who had told them to focus on Alex. And now she had the nerve to confront me in the car line?

Genevieve rapped on my window. I reluctantly rolled it down and then instantly wished I hadn’t. Genevieve gripped the car door with both hands and bent forward, so that her angry face was just inches away from mine. She was so close I could smell the mint of mouthwash on her breath.

“Genevieve, this is not the time or the place,” I said, leaning back away from her. “A young girl has died.”

“I’m well aware of that. And I also know who the main suspect is. If you think your daughter is going to get away with what she’s done, you are sorely mistaken. I’ve known Callie since the day she was born. I will do everything in my power to make sure she has justice.”

“That’s enough. Please move away from my car.” It was disconcerting to have her so close.

“Oh, no. You are going to listen to me,” she snapped back. “First, your daughter sent those disgusting texts to Daphne calling her a slut and a whore. Then she sent out that video of Daphne being sexually assaulted to everyone in the school.”

“You have absolutely no proof that she did any of that,” I pointed out.

But Genevieve didn’t seem to hear me. “And now, after all of the damage she’s caused, she went and told the police that they should focus their investigation on Daphne and Shae? Two innocent girls who just lost their best friend? I’m telling you right now, she will not get away with this. Richard and I intend to sue for defamation, harassment, and anything else our attorney can make stick.”