The Herd(93)

I smiled and gave Katie’s hair a little pat. “Anyway, you saved my life. You’re the reason they got me in an ambulance in time.”

“I thought I was gonna die,” she replied.

A knock on the doorframe—I stood and greeted Ratliff and Herrera.

“Sorry for—er, thanks for coming on Christmas,” I said. Not apologizing for things that weren’t my fault: an early New Year’s resolution.

“I’m Jewish, so.” Ratliff’s lips flickered in and out of a smile. She turned to Katie. “How are you feeling?”

“Merry and bright,” she deadpanned.

Ratliff clasped her hands together. “Well, we’re glad you’re safe and grateful for your bravery.”

Katie pulled herself up into a sitting position, then yelped; I hadn’t mentioned the bruised tailbone. “I want to know what’s going on with Mikki.”

“Ms. Danziger is in a holding cell in the station. We’ll be interviewing her later today.”

“Did Mikki say anything?” Katie asked.

Ratliff shifted her weight. “She did some talking last night. She’ll have a court-appointed lawyer this afternoon. But we have a pretty complete picture from Mr. Corrigan already. He’s been moved to a hospital in Cambridge.”

“Cameron, right?” Katie broke in.

Ratliff assented, and I added: “Ted’s fine. He’s still at his parents’. Gary and Karen talked to him this morning.”

“That’s good.” Katie swallowed.

Herrera turned to me suddenly. “Hana, can we talk to you in the hall?”

I glanced at Katie, whose eyes flashed in alarm, but I smiled soothingly. “We’ll be right back.”

In the cold, blue-white hallway, we formed a triangle. I gazed at them calmly as my heart thwacked in my chest. My heartbeat was a drum in my ears, pulsing over what was about to come out of their mouths: the blackmail, Jinny’s mom. Jinny’s cold, slight body. The tangled cover on the Walshes’ pool. The Walshes themselves, watching stone-eyed as we’d backed out of their driveway with a secret the size of a hurricane in our chests.

“We’ll be reopening a cold case on account of something Ms. Danziger told us,” Ratliff said. “From May 2010.”

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Eye muscles relaxed, shoulders down.

“She indicated that she and Ms. Walsh had been involved in the incidental death of a young woman in the Boston area. A missing-persons case.”

What had Cameron told them? And Daniel—the blackmail note he never should have seen? I pursed my brows. “From 2010. When we were at Harvard?”

“That’s right.” She stared at me, then leaned forward. “A young woman went missing in the Boston area. Virginia Hurst. Did you know anything about that?”

I angled my head. “That sounds familiar. It was all over the news, and obviously it’s scary when a young woman goes missing in your area. But I haven’t thought about it in…gosh, almost ten years.”

My pulse was louder now, an ocean, miniature hearts beating in my neck and feet and fingertips.

Her gaze softened. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, and of course we’ll have to investigate the claims. But Mikki told us that this young woman died in a drowning accident at Ms. Walsh’s home that night.”

I took a step back, brought my hand to my heart. This was good—now the panic could seep out as shock. “No. No way.”

“We’ve contacted the original detectives on the case. They’re pulling the files. It’s not—we’re not sure about it yet, but it seems to fit. I wanted you to know before we release any information. If it checks out, obviously we’ll be informing the family.”

The family—Celia Hurst, the Tennessee-bound mom, broken with grief and dropping blackmail letters in the post. Would Ratliff mention the blackmail? Did she still not know about it? Surely the sender wouldn’t mention it: her extortion, her grand payouts.

“I can’t believe this. A drowning accident?” My thumb found my lips. “That was…senior year. Eleanor had a little apartment on Mass Ave. How did somebody drown?”

“At her family home,” Herrera broke in. “In Beverly.”

My eyebrows shot up. “In Beverly? Where we just were?” They have a pool, I almost spit out, then stopped myself. “Did she say what happened?” Lying to cops—this was a battle with my instincts, with everything I’d picked up as I’d moved through the world. Eyes down, voice calm, be respectful, tell the truth. Hands where we can see ’em.

“We’ll know more soon. It seems there was an accidental drowning and then Mr. Corrigan helped dispose of the body.”

Cameron? This time the astonishment on my face was real. The lie buzzed in my mind like the Operation game, burrrrhhh: Nine years ago, Gary and Karen had sent us on our way, Karen’s head bowed, Gary’s chin lifted, and taken care of the body themselves. Why lie? What had Cameron told them? More important, why was Mikki protecting me? Suddenly tears coated my eyes and I let the big feeling, relief and horror and guilt and panic, shoot out in ugly sobs.

Herrera took a step back, but Ratliff placed her fingers on my forearm. “This must be difficult to hear. We know you three were very close,” she said. “Now we’re asking you, informally—is there anything you want to tell us?”