Real Bad Things(74)

“We fooled around in a photo booth. So what?” She shrugged and frantically searched for an excuse while trying to act cool-girl calm. “I told her what happened because I knew I couldn’t tell any of my friends in Maud Proper. I only knew him through her. She felt bad for me and sorry that he attacked me. She didn’t want me to get in trouble for what happened to him because I had protected myself. Honestly, I think she was jealous that I got to him first, which was why she confessed. She was obsessed with me. Said she’d die for me. I didn’t tell her to confess. She did that on her own. To impress me.” Only a little of what she said was a lie.

“And you were good with that?” Benjamin asked. “Just let that shit ride for twenty-five years without saying a word?”

She could’ve spit she was so mad. She aimed to make amends and come to justice whether they liked it or not. “I got sick and didn’t even know what was going on! Check my school records,” she said. “Once I found out, I wouldn’t have let her die in prison. I’m telling you the truth. If you recall in your notes—” Here she stabbed the table with a finger and recounted what she’d confessed the night before. She’d left out all the parts that included anyone helping her. It was the least she could do for involving Jane, Jason, and Angie in the first place—even though Jane had already confessed, and it had been Angie’s idea to put the body in the boat and send it toward the dam. She’d give her credit for that, but never out loud and never to her face.

Benjamin smiled at her. “As Jane is also aware, based on our conversations, we don’t believe either one of you could’ve taken him down and then hauled his body out to the boat all by yourself without dragging it and leaving a trail behind for someone to find,” Benjamin said. “And they did look.” Beside him, John nodded like a fool. Instead of investigating Warren’s death, Benjamin should investigate how John and his fellow officers had missed all that blood years ago. They’d done nothing but conduct a few halfhearted interviews before Jane got spooked and confessed.

And of course Georgia Lee hadn’t done it alone. But she could have. It riled her that they didn’t believe she—or Jane!—had the strength. She’d concede the beating she’d given Warren may have been less enthusiastic in reality than her telling, though.

“Never mind swimming against the current near the dam,” Benjamin added. “From the notes, it looks like there was a storm brewing that night.”

“I was a competitive swimmer in high school. Look it up.”

“You didn’t weigh but a fraction of what Warren did,” John said. “I gotta be honest with you, Georgia Lee. I don’t see how you or Jane would’ve been able to pull off none of it—”

“Unless . . . ,” Benjamin interrupted. “You had help. Jane, for instance. Someone else?”

Panic spiked. They weren’t supposed to believe anyone but Georgia Lee had committed the crime. They were supposed to end their suspicions. She was supposed to clear Jane’s name, keep Jason and Angie out of the spotlight. Take the blame. For all of it. They may have helped her dispose of the body, but she had killed Warren. No one else. Maybe she’d been too weak then to face it. Maybe that was why her brain broke. But she could, would, be strong now. She would face the consequences.

She crossed her arms and focused on a spot on the wall behind them. “Sexism is alive and well in Maud.” She was certain they rolled their eyes. It only made her more resolute. “Warren was nothing special. Tall. It was all me. I had no help. Not even from Jane.”

“Bigger than you, and all dead weight?” John shook his head. “Why are you telling these lies, Georgia Lee? Is this some sort of stunt?”

Georgia Lee clamped down on a reply, removed her hands from the table, and folded them into her lap. She burrowed her nails into her palm at the implication she could be so stupid as to admit to a crime to win an election. Or lose, to save face, if that’s what he was getting at.

“Am I still free to go?” she asked.

“If you want. We’ve got no use for you until you tell the truth, which is that either you and Jane killed Warren, or you and someone else killed Warren. Or . . .” Benjamin smiled again. “You’re covering for two other people.” He narrowed his eyes. “Not quite sure why you’d do that, though.” He glanced at the photo of Georgia Lee and Jane in front of her. “But I’m sure you have your reasons.”

She huffed and tried to further bury her fingernails into her skin to keep them away from his eyes.

John grumbled and walked to the door while Georgia Lee and Benjamin continued their stare down. Finally, Benjamin left the room, too, and didn’t return. Rude, especially after she’d consumed all that water. But she did hear him yell at Tom to come and get her—or get rid of her. Either way. The nerve of that man.

She aimed to stay bolted to her spot, facing forward, but her bladder had other plans. After a quick bathroom break, she sneaked back along the hallway and to the interrogation room to begin a sit-in. But the room was no longer empty.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in shock.

Jason startled at the sudden noise and then groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

He rolled up his sleeves to bare tattooed arms and cut muscles underneath his business casual. He reminded her of the type of guys sororities hired for “sex parties” in college: way too hot to be pizza delivery. After their faux deliveries, they ripped their faux pants off and thrust their groins in screaming women’s faces before those same women disappeared into another room to buy sex toys and giggle when they returned with their glittery, content-concealed bags. Despite their mismatched fathers, he and Jane looked an awful lot alike. He smelled like cake icing. And sex. Her knees stung in heady remembrance of youthful nights, but she shut it down before her mind wandered too far. He slung a hand across the back of the chair next to him and watched her.