Chapter
Twenty-Seven
The cops wouldn’t let us take my car home. They declared the entire Jenkins property a crime scene, and everything needed to remain in place until the investigators were through. We didn’t realize it until we left, but they had the entire house and grounds on lockdown while they went in search of the killer.
They found no one hiding out in the house or on the estate. They do have a huge lineup of people to talk to. Every one of us at that party is a potential suspect. The interview process is going to be a long one.
But I’m fairly certain they have the killer in captivity—Courtney. They took her to the hospital, where she’s under both medical and psychological evaluation. This is all according to the local news apps, which my dad was reading when we were still waiting to be released from Courtney’s house. Guess they got some decent information, despite the police trying to shut them out.
Dad dropped Cass off at his house and then we went straight home, neither of us talking much the entire drive. I was emotionally drained and couldn’t work up a reason to care about making small talk. Plus the idea of rehashing to my dad what I just went through made me sick to my stomach.
“Do you want to talk?” he finally asks once he pulls the car into the garage and shuts off the engine.
I shake my head, afraid if I say too many words, I might start crying yet again.
“Do you just want to go to bed?” His voice is gentle, and I glance over at him. His eyes are full of worry and pain, and I can tell he’s treating me like I’m fragile. Like he’s afraid I might break at any minute.
I feel like I might.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”
He nods. “Of course. But we do have to talk about it, Penelope. And you’ll need to go down to the police station tomorrow and give your official account of what happened as well.”
“I know. I’ll be better tomorrow.” I hope it’s true.
Dad walks me into the house, where I’m embraced and cried over by both Mom and Peyton. They want details, descriptions, all of it, but Dad tells them to lay off and that I just want to go to bed. Peyton almost looks disappointed, but she leaves it alone. Mom guides me to my bedroom, where she pulls a small prescription pill bottle out of her robe pocket and pops the top off.
“Give me your hand,” she murmurs, and I do as she asks. She drops two tiny pills into my palm and closes my fingers around them. “Sleeping pills. You should take them tonight, after what you went through.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I’m weirded out that she shared her pill stash with me, but I’m not going to complain, either. Until now, I had no idea how I was going to fall asleep tonight. My brain is full of too many lurid images, blood and Courtney and the savage cut across Dani’s neck.
Mom gives me a tight hug and then leaves me alone in my room. I go to my bedside table where a half-full bottle of water still sits. I screw off the cap, set the pills on my tongue, and wash them down.
There’s a knock, and then Peyton is sneaking inside my room, closing the door behind her. She rushes toward me and draws me into her arms, holding me close. “I should’ve never covered for you,” she whispers against my hair.
I blubber/laugh at her confession and pull away so I can look at her. “You didn’t tell them you covered for me, did you?”
“No.” She shakes her head, tears sliding down her cheeks. “But I will, if that helps get you off the hook.”
“You don’t have to do that, Peyton.” I smile at her, so grateful that she’s here for me. A few years ago, that Peyton would’ve told me I’m on my own. She was selfish and awful. But she’s changed a lot since going to college. She’s a nicer, gentler version of her old self.
Makes me think there’s hope for me yet.
“What happened?” she asks as we both sit on the edge of my bed.
I launch into the story, not mentioning Cass and me getting stuck in Court’s closet after searching through her room. Or the fact that I made out with Cass in the closet too.
“So awful,” she says when I finish. The crying has started yet again and Peyton’s joining me. “I’m sorry, Penny. I can’t believe what happened to Dani. Poor Dani.”
“I know.” I shake my head, sniffing loudly. My head is throbbing and I just want to go to bed. “Can we talk more tomorrow? I just…I can’t do this anymore.”
“Yeah. Sure. Want me to sleep with you?” When we were really little, we used to cozy up together in bed. Like when I had a bad dream, Peyton was always right there, ready to take care of me.
“Maybe,” I say with a tiny smile. “I’ll sneak into your bed if I need to.”
“You can.” She hugs me close. “You’re always welcome to.”
After she leaves my room, I go through the normal motions of getting ready for bed. I change out of my clothes and pull on a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt. Put my hair into a sloppy topknot. Clean my face off with a makeup wipe and brush my teeth. I crawl into bed and yank the covers up to my neck, waiting for the sleeping pills Mom gave me to kick in.
But they don’t. Not yet. And while I lay there alone with my thoughts, I realize everything has changed. Everything. I’m not the same girl I was before even this afternoon, if I want to get specific. Gretchen is gone. Lex is gone. And now…Dani is gone.
I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. My entire world has been flipped upside down. My friends are gone. Courtney has lost her mind. The entire school is going to be a wreck. The weekend won’t heal our wounds. Hardly anything will.
And I don’t know how I feel about that.
Realizing quickly the pills aren’t going to kick in anytime soon, I grab my phone and start scrolling. There are all sorts of notifications, since I haven’t really looked at it since we discovered Courtney with Dani. I see a few Snapchats mentioning the chaos at Courtney’s party, but no photos of an actual dead body, thank God. No videos posted anywhere, either. I close my eyes just thinking about it, but all I can see is blood, so I open them just in time to see a new notification flash at the top of my screen.
It’s a Snapchat message from Cass.
I open it up and look at the photo he sent me, smiling a little. He’s in bed, it’s mostly dark, and there’s a sad expression on his face. The photo is captioned, Can’t sleep. And there are sad face and sleeping emojis included.
I take a selfie and caption it, Me either, before I send it to him.
We do this for a little while, messaging back and forth, about normal stuff, and it soothes me. He tells me how his grandma kept asking him questions and how the cats wouldn’t leave him alone. How he went to his bedroom and stared out the window for a while, but all he could see was fog so he eventually gave up. I tell him about my family wanting to question me and that my dad wouldn’t let them. That my sister snuck into my room anyway and I was glad she did. How my mom gave me sleeping pills and I took them, but they aren’t affecting me yet.
Our conversation makes me feel normal, like it’s any other Friday night/early Saturday morning and I’m Snapchatting with a boy. A boy I could possibly like, who kisses me like he possibly likes me, too. I try to focus on that, on Cass and his lips and the way he touched me, and how he took care of me tonight.
And when my eyelids get heavy and I finally drift off into sleep, I don’t even remember it happening. I don’t dream, either.
Something I’m thankful for.
…
“Penny. Sweetie. Wake up.” A hand gently shakes my shoulder and my eyes pop open to find my mom standing beside my bed, frowning down at me.
“What’s going on?” I croak. My throat is so dry, and my head hurts like I’m hungover. I swallow hard and grimace, and Mom grabs the water bottle from my bedside table and hands it to me. I take a drink while she talks.
“The detectives are here. They want to talk to you about—about last night.” Mom stands up straight, wringing her hands together. “I tried to send them away, told them you were still sleeping, but they didn’t care. They’ve already been here for almost an hour.”
“What?” I throw the covers back and sit up, hating how my head spins. “I feel awful,” I mumble, rubbing my forehead.
“It’s the sleeping pills. They can leave you with a bit of a hangover when you first start them,” Mom explains, sounding apologetic.
“Let me take a quick shower and then I’ll come down,” I tell her as I stand up slowly. I want to go back to bed. I want to go back to sleep and forget everything that happened.
Maybe if I sleep long enough, I’ll discover everything was just a dream.
“I called Grossman and he’s on his way.”
I frown at her. “Who’s Grossman?”
“Your attorney. I refuse to let those detectives talk to you without him present,” Mom says firmly.
I feel stupid that I didn’t remember my own lawyer’s name. I can’t even believe I need to have a lawyer. It’s like I’m living in some alternate world. “Don’t you think that makes me look guilty, having a lawyer?”
“It’s a smart move. Your father is an attorney. He knows what to do.” She glances around my room, her gaze full of worry. “You want me to try to send them away again? Your father is at the office, but I can call him and he’d rush right home. He’ll take care of this if those detectives won’t listen to me.” Mom has always deferred to Dad as the heavy in our house. Those are the roles they like in their parental relationship with us. Mom’s easygoing and Dad’s the strict one.
“No, if Mr. Grossman is coming over here, I guess I can talk to them and get it over with. At least they’re here at the house, so I don’t have to go to the police station.” I stretch my arms over my head and yawn, trying to fight the nerves that are fizzing in my stomach. “Tell them I’ll be down in a few.”
I take a quick shower and think over everything that happened last night. I want to be as thorough as possible remembering all the details. I don’t want to forget a thing.
And I also just want this conversation over and done with.
By the time I’m walking into the living room, twenty minutes have passed, and Detectives Hughes and Spalding are pacing near the massive window that faces the street. Mr. Grossman is in heavy conversation with my mother in the corner of the room.
Hughes is the one who notices my entrance first, and his expression is grim when he sees me.
“Penelope.” He nods once.
Spalding turns away from the window to face me. “Hello, Miss Malone.”
“Hello.” I stop in the middle of the living room, unsure of what to do next. “You wanted to talk to me?”
Spalding waves at a nearby chair. “Please. Sit down.”
“Penelope.” Mr. Grossman is at my side, guiding me toward the chair. “Consult me before you answer any of their questions, do you understand? Just look my way and I’ll nod or shake my head.”
I can’t even answer a question without his approval? I guess that’s what I need a lawyer for. “Okay.”
Mr. Grossman settles into a nearby chair. My mother hovers in the doorway, watching us carefully. When I make eye contact with her, she smiles and fully enters the room, wringing her hands together nervously. “Would you like some coffee, gentlemen?” she asks, like they’re here for a pleasant visit. “Or something else to drink?”
“Coffee sounds great, Mrs. Malone,” Spalding says.
“I’m fine,” Hughes grits out as he studies his phone, tapping away at the screen for a few moments before he returns his attention to me. They’re both sitting on the couch across from me. “Let’s talk about last night.”
I glance over at my lawyer—who nods his approval—before I run through the moment again in the most matter of fact way I can. Mom dashes in and hands Spalding his coffee as I describe Cass and me going up the stairs. She leaves when I get to the gruesome parts, and I suppose I can’t blame her. I’m not enjoying reliving the moment either. But I forge on and tell them how Cass spotted them first and tried to shield me. Hearing Courtney scream and swear she didn’t do it. How the blood was everywhere, all over Courtney, and the horrific slash across Dani’s neck.
“Was she hurt?” I ask once I’m finished. When they both frown at me, I continue. “Courtney. She had blood all over her. Cass wondered if she was hurt, too.”
“She wasn’t,” Spalding tells me, his gaze falling from mine as he studies the floor. “It was…Danielle’s blood.”
“Oh.” I exhale shakily, staring at the coffee table in front of me. I’m trembling, and I take a deep breath, telling myself I shouldn’t cry. My eyes still burn from all the crying last night and into this morning. “There was so much blood. Cass thought for sure some of it was Courtney’s and she’d been hurt by the killer. Is she still in the hospital?”
I look up to find Hughes slowly shaking his head, not saying a word.
Weird.
“What were you doing before you found Courtney and Danielle in the east wing? Run us through those events,” Spalding says.
Mr. Grossman nods, so I do as Spalding requests.
“Well, I went to the party with Cass.”
“But you told your parents differently,” Hughes interjects.
I stay quiet, unsure if I should admit that or not. Mr. Grossman clears his throat and when we make eye contact, he gives me a subtle nod.
“I told my mother I was going to the movies with Dani. That mass text the school sent freaked my mom out and she didn’t want me anywhere near Court’s house.”
“You went anyway,” Hughes says, his tone downright accusatory. “Why?”
Here’s where the partial truth sounds silly. “I wanted to spend more time with Cass. I-I like him and I’m pretty sure he likes me and that’s why I went.” I hesitate, then decide to go for it. “I wanted to be with him.”
“Okay. Go on then,” Spalding says. “Tell us what happened next.”
“I went and picked up Cass at his house, which is in the same neighborhood as Courtney’s, up on Hot Springs Road. He drove my car to her place and we got there around nine thirty, maybe a little later. We ran into Dani right away, and she was with Brogan Pearson. They were both drunk, Dani more than Brogan, and they got us into the house.”
“Right, because Courtney didn’t want you there,” Hughes says.
Wow, that was the last thing I expected him to say. He knows everything, doesn’t he?
“Yes, she disinvited me.”
“Why?”
“Because I was against the party from the start. I didn’t want her to do it. I thought it was tacky and wrong to have a party so soon after Gretchen and Lex died, and I told her so. That made Courtney mad.”
“I’m sure Courtney was angry you were at her house.”
“I don’t think Court realized it until—until we found her.” I feel shaky. Lightheaded. I don’t like thinking about that moment, when we found Dani and Court together.
“Let’s switch gears here. Was that normal behavior for Danielle while at a party? Did she get drunk at parties a lot?” Spalding asks.
I don’t want to make her look bad, but… “Yeah, sometimes. She liked to have fun, be silly and cut loose. She was always fun at a party, you know? Most of the time she worried so much, it was nice to see her so carefree.”
“So she drank a lot.” Hughes’s voice is flat.
“No, not really.” I shake my head, frustrated. “It’s not like we partied every weekend.”
“What about Brogan Pearson? What was her relationship with him?” Hughes asks.
Oh. Wow. Do they suspect Brogan? There is no way he could’ve killed Dani, let alone Gretchen and Lex. He’s not a criminal mastermind. Not even close. “She’s had a crush on Brogan for years.”
“And did he reciprocate her feelings?”
“I thought he did…” My voice drifts, and I think of Courtney and Brogan together last night. I need to tell the cops. They’re going to ask why Cass and I were in the closet and I’m going to have to come up with some sort of excuse. No way can I tell them the truth.
Oh, we were playing detectives like you guys! On the endless search for clues, you know, since we don’t think you’re all that great at doing your job.
Yeah, that wouldn’t go over real well.
But I need to tell the truth. I can’t keep this from them, especially if they talk to Cass and he tells them what really happened. Lying won’t get us anywhere.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to go for it.
“Cass and I were in Courtney’s bedroom last night.”
“Penelope,” Mr. Grossman barks, and I jerk my head up, my gaze meeting his. “We should talk about this first.”
“I want to tell the truth. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I look at the detectives, and I can tell they’re dying to ask me at least fifty more questions.
They both frown at me. “Why were you in her room?” Spalding asks.
“Um, because we wanted to…” I cough discreetly, feeling stupid. “We wanted to find a more private spot.”
Spalding’s eyebrows shoot straight up, and a gasp escapes from Mom. “So you were in search of privacy,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Just the two of you.”
I nod.
“And what exactly happened when you were in Courtney’s room?”
“Well, we heard Courtney outside in the hall and so…we hid in her closet.” My cheeks go hot and I duck my head. This is so embarrassing.
“Was she alone?”
“No.” I shake my head, and I can practically feel them scooting closer to the edge of the couch cushion as they wait for my answer. “She was with…Brogan Pearson.”
“Really?” Spalding is scribbling fiercely in his notepad. “So they came into the room, and what happened next?”
“They, um, talked and made out for a while. And then they had sex.” I keep my head ducked because yeah, this is no fun, talking about your friends having sex last night when they really shouldn’t be together.
“They had sex,” Hughes repeats. “But weren’t Danielle and Brogan together?”
“Not officially. I don’t think they’d even really dated,” I say.
“Huh. So Danielle likes Brogan, but Brogan’s messing around with Courtney. And Courtney and Danielle are good friends.” I lift my head to find Spalding staring right at me. “Sounds a little twisted.”
“It is. Was,” I correct, my chest going tight. It’s like I can’t even focus on Dani right now, or I’ll start crying. And once that happens, I won’t be able to stop. “There’s a lot of drama in high school.”
“Indeed.” I can’t tell if Hughes is mocking me or not. “Sounds like these two girls had reason to be jealous of each other.”
“I guess so,” I say with a shrug. “Though I’m pretty sure Dani was clueless. I don’t think she knew Courtney and Brogan were hooking up.” I don’t mention that I’d known about Court and Brogan because Courtney told me, and I immediately feel guilty.
“But you knew,” Spalding interjects.
“Sort of. I only had it confirmed when we were in the closet and Courtney and Brogan were on the bed.” I make a little face.
“You knew Courtney and Brogan were communicating, though, right? That they were texting and sending each other naked photos?” Hughes asks.
“I mean, I heard…”
“It’s a yes or no question, Miss Malone,” Spalding reminds me quietly.
“Gentlemen, what does Penelope have to do with Brogan and Courtney being together?” Grossman asks.
“We’re just trying to see what Penelope knows,” Hughes explains. “Currently Courtney and Brogan aren’t talking to the police.”
“Penelope shouldn’t be either,” Grossman says grumpily.
“I just want to get it over with,” I tell him before I turn to the detectives. “I knew they were communicating. Flirting with each other. I didn’t know they’d taken it this far.”
“And what were you and Cass Vincenti doing while Courtney and Brogan were—otherwise involved on the bed?” Hughes asks.
“We were in the closet.”
“Spying on them?”
“No. Not really. I didn’t want to see that, and neither did Cass. I didn’t even want to hear it.” I shake my head. “Cass had ear buds with him. So we shared them and listened to music.”
“Is that all that happened in the closet?” Hughes asks, his hawk-like gaze right on me.
I drop my head again, staring down at the plush, cream-colored carpet. “Cass and I…we kissed in the closet.”
“And that’s it?” Hughes presses.
“What more do you want me to say?” I look up at both of them, glaring. I don’t like how they’re making me feel guilty. Or maybe those are just my own insecurities popping up. I’m not really sure. “No, we didn’t do it in the closet, if that’s what you’re asking.”
It goes on like this for another ten minutes before my attorney shuts them down and escorts them out of my house. He tells me I did a good job, but I don’t feel like I did. They informed me they were going to ask to look over my cell phone records, like that’s supposed to scare me, but it doesn’t. I have nothing to hide.
Mom and I talk to Grossman for a few minutes longer, and Mom even calls Dad and puts him on speaker so he can say a few things, and then the attorney leaves. Within minutes, Peyton’s walking into the house. Her cheeks are flushed from the cool weather and she’s got a dark-purple fleece jacket on, along with black leggings. Her brown hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and she looks refreshed. Carefree. Like she doesn’t have a single trouble in the world.
I envy her. I want to be her.
“Hey.” She smiles brightly, though it looks kind of fake. “Want to go to lunch?”
Please. That’s the last thing I want to do.
“Not really.” I shake my head, suddenly exhausted. I didn’t realize being questioned by the cops could drain every drop of energy out of you. “I’d rather go back to bed.”
Mom says nothing. Neither does Peyton.
They just watch me walk away.