Every Last Fear(52)

When Principal Flowers showed no intention of leaving, Keller said, “Is there a conference room or somewhere Harper and I could—”

“Oh,” the principal said. She paused, then said, “Harper, you’re okay with me stepping out?”

Harper nodded again, and the principal hesitantly left the office.

Keller gave the young woman a sympathetic smile. “First off,” Keller said, “I’m really sorry about your friend.”

Harper’s face reddened, and she tucked her legs under her.

“I have some questions, if you don’t mind?”

“Sure, but, like, I don’t understand. They said it was, like, a freak accident. And you’re the FBI, and I don’t get—”

“I know you must have a lot of questions. The FBI often gets involved when an American dies in a foreign country. Even for accidents.” Not totally true, but no need to get into it. Keller still didn’t have confirmation that there’d been foul play. And it didn’t matter. The deputy director, and the president himself, wanted to get to the bottom of the death of the Pines—so murder, accident, or whatever—that was what Keller needed to do.

Harper looked at her skeptically, but nodded for Keller to continue.

“You and Maggie were close friends?”

“Best friends,” Harper corrected, swallowing hard. “Since she moved here in sixth grade.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

“Like, in person? Or online or—”

“Let’s start with in person,” Keller said. The kids were different now. When Keller was a girl, it was the landline telephone, meeting at the mall or roller rink. Now they stayed connected through tiny screens.

Harper looked at the floor. “We went to a party a couple days before she went on her trip.”

“Was this a birthday party or a school party—or a party party?”

“Party party,” Harper said. “A kid from school, his parents were out of town.”

Keller’s smile said, No big deal, I was a teenager once. “How was Maggie? I mean, did she seem like herself?”

“She didn’t want to go.” Harper’s voice broke and tears spilled from her eyes. “I made her and then she was, like, nearly assaulted and it’s all my fault and, like, the last time she saw me, she was upset and I should’ve—”

“It’s okay,” Keller broke in, reaching for Harper’s hand. The girl was gulping for air, her face blotchy. “It’s all right,” Keller continued. “You did nothing wrong.” She moved closer, giving Harper time to collect herself.

Harper dragged the sleeve of her sweatshirt across her face, wiping the tears.

“I know it’s hard,” Keller said, finally, “but can you tell me what happened the night of the party? Just tell it from the beginning, leave nothing out.”

And Harper told her. That Maggie’s mom was out of town. That she’d lied to her dad, who had a thing against parties. That Maggie was going there to see a boy. That she and the boy slipped away, and Maggie ran out of the party crying and upset. That Harper and a friend drove Maggie home.

And then came the cyberbullying. That explained the messages.

“Did you see her after that night?”

Harper shook her head. “She shut down the sites about her brother and said she needed a break from social media, from her phone.”

“Was that unusual?”

“She wasn’t a big phone person. But she lived for the sites about her brother. You saw the show, right?”

Keller nodded. Her chest tightened with the idea of the girl from the documentary—the pugnacious investigator helping her father—escaping the party after God knows what happened with the boy.

“When you saw the messages and that she’d shut down the sites, did you reach out to her?”

“Of course. She was my best friend. And there was no fucking way I was going to let those fucking—” Harper stopped herself. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I told her I was there for her.”

“And what did Maggie say?”

“She said they were going to Mexico for spring break. That she was okay and just needed to get away.”

“Did you know her family was planning to go on a trip?”

“Not until after the party. She said her dad decided at the last minute.”

“Did she text you from Mexico?”

Harper shook her head.

Keller decided that Harper had calmed down enough to return to questions about the party. “Did you tell anyone—your parents or a teacher or anyone—about what had happened at the party?”

“She didn’t want her dad to know. She said he didn’t … She made me promise.”

“Who’s the boy?” Keller asked. She wanted to shake the name out of Harper, but she needed to be patient.

“Eric Hutchinson,” Harper said. “He’s telling people he didn’t do anything, that she just freaked out and kicked him in the balls for no reason, but that’s not Mags.”

All the kids knew something had happened, but not one had talked to an adult.

“Anything else you can remember about the party? Or anything unusual about Maggie before she left for Mexico?”