Two Can Keep a Secret(70)
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MURDERLAND, PART 2
TOLD YOU SO
My heart skips a beat and I almost drop my phone. Katrin puts the duct tape back in her backpack and zips it up, then slings it over her shoulder, turning and striding back the way she came. She’s wearing a hoodie with her hair tucked up beneath it, but when she passes within a few feet of me I get a clear shot of her face.
When I can’t hear her footsteps any longer, I move forward so I can record the sign up close. The bright-red letters are splashed against the white background, but there’s nothing else—no dolls, no pictures, none of the creepy gleefulness of her previous work. I text the video to Ellery and write, This is what she’s up to. Then I wait, but not for long.
Oh my God.
My fingers feel numb as I type. You called it.
We have to give this to the police, Ellery replies. The receipt, too. I shouldn’t have hung on to it for this long.
My stomach rolls. Jesus, what’s my mother going to think? Will part of her be relieved that it takes the focus off Declan and me, or is it just the same shit show, different channel? And Peter—my brain seizes trying to imagine how he’ll react to Katrin being mixed up in something like this. Especially if I’m the one bringing it to light.
But I have to. There’s too much piling up, and all of it points to my stepsister.
I start walking and texting at the same time. I know. I’m going to make sure she’s headed home & not someplace else. Should we go to the station tomorrow morning?
I’d rather show Officer Rodriguez first. Do you want to come by my house around six & we can go together?
I blink at the screen. Ellery has spent weeks telling anyone who’d listen—which, granted, is mostly Ezra, Mia, and me—that she thinks Officer Rodriguez is sketchy. Now she wants to show up at his house at the crack of dawn, handing over stuff we’re not supposed to have? I glance up and see that I’m gaining a little too quickly on Katrin; if I keep up my pace I’ll end up walking right past her. I slow down and text, Why him?
It takes a few minutes for Ellery’s message to appear. She’s either writing a novel, or taking her time figuring out what to say. When her text finally comes through, it’s not what I was expecting.
Let’s just say he owes me one.
“So you got this receipt how, again?”
Officer Rodriguez hands me a cup of coffee in his kitchen. Early-morning sun streams through the window over the sink, striping the table with gold. I’m so tired that the effect reminds me of a pillow, and all I want to do is lay my head down and shut my eyes. I left a note for Mom and Peter saying I was going to the gym, which is only slightly more believable than what I’m actually doing.
“The recycling bin was unlocked,” Ellery says, twisting a curl around her finger.
“Unlocked?” Officer Rodriguez’s eyes are ringed with dark circles. Considering what Ellery told me on the way over about the picture of his father, I doubt he slept much last night either.
“Yeah.”
“But everything was still inside?”
She meets his gaze without blinking. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Let’s go with that. Regardless of whether the bin was locked or unlocked, its contents weren’t your property to take.”
“I didn’t think discarded items were anyone’s property,” Ellery says. She sounds like she really, really hopes she’s right.
Officer Rodriguez leans back in his chair and regards her in silence for a few seconds. He and Ellery don’t resemble one another much. But now that I know there’s a chance they’re related, the stubborn set of their jaws looks exactly the same. “I’m going to treat this as an anonymous tip,” he finally says, and Ellery visibly exhales. “I’ll look into the car situation. Given Brooke’s state of mind when you saw her at Fright Farm, it’s an interesting thread to follow.”
Ellery crosses her legs and jiggles one foot. She’s been full of nervous energy since she got here, constantly shifting and fidgeting. Unlike Officer Rodriguez and me, she seems wide awake. “Are you going to arrest Katrin?”
Officer Rodriguez holds up a palm. “Whoa. Not so fast. There’s no evidence that she’s committed a crime.”
She blinks, startled. “What about the video?”
“It’s of interest, sure. But there’s no destruction of property involved. Trespassing, maybe. Depends on who owns the wall.”
“But what about all the other times?” I ask.
He shrugs. “We don’t know she was involved with those. All we know is what you saw this morning.”
I grip my mug. The coffee is already cold, but I drink it anyway. “So everything we gave you is useless.”
“Nothing is useless when someone goes missing,” Officer Rodriguez says. “All I’m saying is that it’s premature to draw conclusions based on what you’ve shared. That’s my job, okay? Not yours.” He leans forward and raps his knuckles on the table for emphasis. “Listen up. I appreciate you guys coming to me, I really do. But you need to stay out of this from now on. Not only for your safety, but because if you are circling around someone who played a role in Brooke’s disappearance, you don’t want to tip them off. Okay?” We both nod, and he crosses his arms. “I’m going to need a verbal confirmation.”