The Last House Guest(73)

Officer Chambers jotted something down. But the detective was the only one asking questions. “How was she acting, last you saw her?”

I closed my eyes, trying to see. To give them something, anything. As if I could pull her back here with words alone. The way she’d spun on her feet. Rolled her eyes. Pieced through my closet. Shrugged on my sweater, her energy spilling over—“Like Sadie,” I said. Like everything was fine. Like I’d see her again soon.

He leaned back in my wooden chair, and it creaked. I tried to read his notes, but they were tilted out of my field of vision. The only sound was of our breathing.

“You, Luciana, and Parker each arrived at the party separately,” he said. “How did that go again?” Like he’d already heard this from someone and I was just confirming the details.

“I was there first. Luciana arrived next. Parker arrived last.”

Here, a pause. “And Connor Harlow? We heard he was at the party.”

The feel of my hand trailing down his arm, leading him to the bedroom.

A nod. “Connor was there, too.”

Detective Collins tore off a sheet of paper in the silence, jotted down a list of names, asked me to fill in the arrival times: Avery Greer, Luciana Suarez, Parker Loman, Connor Harlow.

I estimated as well as I could, then paused at the last name. I frowned at the page, my eyes unfocused and burning with fatigue. “Connor was there before Parker. I’m not sure when,” I said.

Detective Collins twisted the paper back his way, eyes skimming the list. “That’s a big gap between you and the next person.”

“Yes, I was setting up. The first-timers, they always come early.” There was something in his eyes I couldn’t read, a line I’d just drawn—and we were on opposite sides. I cleared my throat. “I brought over the liquor. Opened up the house. It’s my job, overseeing the Lomans’ properties.”

“So you’ve said. How did you get there last night?” he asked.

“I took my car,” I said. The trunk was full of the box of liquor, the leftovers from the pantry.

“And where is that car now?” He made a show of looking around the house, as if it might be hidden away somewhere.

I let out a shaky breath. “When the police showed up at the party, I left with Parker. I wasn’t thinking. I just followed him out. My car was blocked in by that time anyway, at the house across the street.” I looked out the front window, toward my empty spot. “I guess it’s still there.”

He put down his pen, eyes focused intently on mine, as if there were a hole in my story and he was about to pry it open. But then he continued on. “After the officers arrived at the party and you returned here with Parker . . .” He looked down at his notes. “Parker and Luciana went inside the main house. And you?” He peered up, already knowing the answer. He was the one who found me after all.

“I went out back.”

“Why?”

Because I was drawn there. Could sense it before I saw it. Her life was my life. “The police at Breaker Beach,” I said. I looked to Officer Chambers, wondering if he had been one of the people there waving us past, but he kept his eyes down. “There was a cop blocking us from getting any closer. But there’s a way down from above. I wanted to see.”

“And did you? Did you see?”

I shook my head. “No.”

He leaned closer, dropped his voice, like this part was off the record, just between us. “You looked panicked when I saw you there.”

“I was. She’s my best friend. I didn’t believe it. But . . .”

“But?”

“Her shoes. I saw her shoes. And then I knew.” My hands started trembling, and I squeezed them tight, to try to get them to stop.

As he was staring at me, my eyes drifted to the windows to my right. Through the trees to the view of the ocean, the terrifying vastness of it. The converging currents and endless depth; the secrets it held.

“Okay,” he said, leaning back. “Let’s go through the night again.” As he spoke, he looked down at the list I’d given him. “Parker and Luciana were together most of the party.” He raised his eyes to me to confirm. There was no point, then, in mentioning the fight upstairs. Or the time I was alone with Parker. They drove over together. They left together. They were together most of the night.

I nodded. “Are you looking at the party?” I asked. I didn’t understand why the details mattered. She hadn’t been there. The party had been on the other end of town.

“No, we’re looking here,” the detective said. Officer Chambers peered around my living room as if there might be some clue that he had missed. “The house, to the cliffs, down to Breaker Beach. That’s the scene. The reason I’m asking you about the party”—he leaned forward—“is to find out whether anyone was missing.” He picked up his pen, raised an eyebrow. “So. Can anyone vouch for you the entire time, Avery?”

I shook my head, confused, desperate. “Parker, Luce, there was a houseful of people. They saw me. I was there.”

“You could’ve left. They can’t account for every single moment.”

“But I didn’t. And I told you, she was messaging me. She was fine.”

“What about Connor Harlow?”