People Like Us(57)

I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for a thousand years and if I don’t let it out, I will burst. “What’s your point, Greg?” I manage.

“I trusted you before we met. My gut says you’re good. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but if you ever need to talk, you can talk to me. Suspect to suspect.” He rolls his sleeves up, exposing his intricately tattooed forearms. “So. Are we finally going to trust each other?”

I wrap my fingers around my mug and consider my options once again. Brie and Spencer are gone. I have Nola, but things are weird now. Time is running out. With the police putting a wire on Brie, for all I know, they’re moving in to make an arrest, although it sounds like things aren’t going well for Greg either. At the very least, they may be considering calling my parents to come so they can formally question me, and I need to avoid that at all costs.

“Trust is a strong word.”

“Fair enough. We’ll keep things casual with a side of paranoia. Let’s talk alternative suspects. I like you, but I do see how perhaps your neighbors may view you as potentially evil. That six-foot Gollum comment didn’t exactly make me feel warm and fuzzy.”

“It wasn’t personal,” I say quickly. “I don’t even remember saying it. I say stupid crap like that all the time. Used to. I’m . . . rethinking some character choices.”

He looks at me dubiously. “You’re not an actor? You talk like one.”

“Nola. Everything is dance and theater. She’s rubbing off on me.”

“Well, do you think your prior choices may have earned you some enemies?”

“I’d say that’s a definite.”

“Every motive in the book can be boiled down to pride. You insult someone, you potentially make an enemy for life. Maybe a deadly one.” He whips a notebook and pencil out of his pocket. “So, let’s profile our killer. Maybe she’s a Bates student after all. Someone with access to Jess, the lake, and the party.”

“You’ve eliminated Spencer?”

“No connection to Madison.”

“I see.” I let him continue.

“It could be a student with a grudge against Jess, or you if you’re being framed. A frenemy. A rival. Or a victim of bullying. Not to demonize victims, but revenge is a strong motivator.”

“So, basically the entire student body.”

He shoots me a reproachful look. “Everyone?”

“You’re implying that I’ve never been bullied, right?”

“I didn’t say—”

“No one gets away unscathed, Greg. People like you think you’re so morally superior. There’s someone lower on the social ladder that you laughed at or made fun of, or didn’t invite, or picked last.”

“I don’t think I’m superior at all,” he says. “Just because I’m nice to you doesn’t mean I don’t have, like, a stadium full of regrets.”

“Regret is too polite a word.”

“For?”

I feel so tired, I make a cradle of my arms and rest my head on them. He scoots closer. “Tai and I—my ex-friend, I guess—used to say the bitchiest shit, but people thought we were funny, so we’d get away with it.”

“Okay.”

“You can get away with murder if you’re lucky. You don’t even have to be smart. Just have a social or political one up on everyone else. People look the other way if they want to. Everybody knows it.”

“That’s true sometimes.”

“I don’t want to get away with it anymore.”

He is very quiet for a long moment, and then his voice comes out in a whispery rasp. “Was that a confession, Kay?”

“No. Forget it.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight to minimize the risk of crying. Of everything that has happened in the past few weeks, the worst has been Brie slipping away, and it didn’t happen in an instant. By the time she agreed to try to trap me, I’d already lost her. Did I start losing her years ago, when I made that unforgiveable joke? Because I was so afraid to apologize, because that would mean admitting I did something awful?

“How do you ask forgiveness for something that can’t be undone?”

“If you’re sorry, forgiveness isn’t the point, is it?” he says. “It’s not about feeling better, it’s about doing better.” He grins. “Totally plagiarized from Pastor Heather.” He pauses. “But it makes me feel better. Having something to do.”

“I’m not the same person I was,” I say. “I’m not.”

He squeezes my hand. “I believe you. I never thought you were evil. But, Kay. I’m not just here for group hugs. We’re murder suspects. We have shit to figure out. Have I convinced you that the killer was a student?”

I sigh. “Do you have one in mind?”

“Actually, I do. There’s someone out there who had the same means and opportunity as you.”

“Motive?”

“A long-standing grudge.”

“Really?” I try to look at his notepad but he holds it out of my reach. “Do the police know about this?”

“She’s been lying to the police. You’ve been helping her lie.”