We Told Six Lies(32)

Who the hell would she be with if not me?

“Is there anything else, anything at all, you’d like to tell me?” she asks.

It’s the way she’s looking at me, studying my face closer than she has in the past. It makes me squirm in my seat, even though I should be giving her the same look. Demanding to know what they’re doing to bring Molly home. Showing my frustration.

“I think maybe someone did take her,” I say, if only to get her to stop looking at me that way.

Detective Hernandez raises her eyebrow.

I wonder if I’ve made a mistake, but it’s too late now.

“Why would you think that?” she asks.

I glance around the room. Run my chewed-off fingernails over my knees. “Where is the other one? Detective…umm?”

“Tehrani,” she supplies, and smiles like she knows I remember his name. “He’s working another case right now.”

The tension in my body eases. If they really believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that something bad happened to Molly, they’d have more than one head on the case.

“There’s this kid at school. He told me to talk to Coach Miller about Molly.”

Detective Hernandez’s brow furrows, but she’s quick to jot down the name.

“Who was this that told you to talk to him?” she asks.

I bite my lip. There’s no way I’d mention Nixon. The last thing I need is for them to bring him back in for questioning.

“That’s okay,” she says. “Let’s talk about Coach Miller. Has he ever—”

“There’s this girl Molly used to hang out with, too. Rhana. She was always jealous of her. And this guy, Jet, he didn’t like her. I know that for sure.”

I don’t mention that I saw a picture of Jet with Destiny posted online from the night of the party, the night Molly vanished. Jet’s been into that girl since middle school, everyone knew it, and no way would he risk that relationship to screw with Molly or me.

I just keep grasping anyway.

Detective Hernandez nods. Makes another note. “Okay. Between those three people, who would—?”

“And there’s a guy I used to work with at this gym. Duane. He made comments about her one time. And every time after that he’d always look at her in this way, you know? Just like…ogle her. I shoved him once.”

Detective Hernandez leans back. Tilts her head.

“And have you talked to Molly’s mom? Like, really talked to her? She’s a nutcase. I wouldn’t be surprised if she kidnapped her own daughter. Or did something to her so terrible that Molly didn’t have a choice but to run away.”

“We went by—”

“There’s one other thing,” I say, my voice low. My eyes lock on her so she knows how serious this is. “There was someone watching Molly. A man. He was at this restaurant I took her to, and he started taking pictures of us on his phone. She wouldn’t say who it was.”

Detective Hernandez stares at me for a long, hard moment. “Your girlfriend has been gone for almost two weeks, and you failed to mention that someone was watching her, or that you suspected any of these other people”—she nudged her notebook—“until I brought you in for questioning a second time?”

“I’m telling you now,” I shoot back.

She sighs and glances down at her notes. “Okay, well, better now than never.”

My body relaxes, imagining her looking into these leads. And finally, with my help, figuring out what happened to Molly.

Detective Hernandez is quiet too long.

“Did you need last names?” I ask. “Or addresses? I think I know Rhana’s—”

“Just one more question, Cobain, and we’ll get you out of here.” She flips a page. Another one. “You said you and Molly skipped school on October eleventh, correct? Shortly after you met her?”

“Yeah.”

She smiles, but I see the cracks in the gesture. “Just a little thing. When I called the school, they actually told me you guys were absent a second time. Eight days before Molly disappeared, to be exact. Why didn’t you tell me you two cut class more than once?”

A jolt shoots through my body, because if she knows we skipped that day, she may also know about our…disagreement. But that’s all it was. One little disagreement, which is perfectly normal in relationships, but I didn’t want to mention it because she’d have turned it into something it wasn’t.

I shrug. “I forgot about it. It was just for a few hours.”

“What’d you guys do?”

“I don’t really remember,” I lie, because I’ll never forget what we did. “Maybe went to see a movie.”

“What movie?”

Now it’s my turn to go on the offensive, because I didn’t do anything. And as she has reminded me time and again, I don’t have to be here.

I stand up.

“I don’t have to answer that,” I say. “I don’t have to answer any of your questions, because you know what? They aren’t doing anything to bring my girlfriend home. You’re looking in the wrong place.”

“I was just asking a question, Cobain.” She flaps her notebook closed. “We’re done anyway. You’ve been very helpful, once again.”