“I’m Detective Dean Murray. This is Officer Frank Merret. Are you the mother of Caydance Sanders?”
“Yes. Susan. What’s the matter?”
“Is your daughter home?”
“She’s upstairs getting ready for school.”
“We’d like to speak with her for a few moments.”
Susan clutched the side of her door. “About what?”
“You heard about the girl who was found last night?”
“Yes, of course. We were so thankful she was found alive.”
“We have reason to believe your daughter might know something about what happened,” Detective Murray said.
“We’re interested in talking with several of her classmates,” Frank added.
Susan looked confused but nodded and opened the door wider. She gestured toward a sitting room off to the side. “Wait here. I’ll go get her.”
Frank stepped in, observing the giant floral patterns that engulfed the tiny room. It smelled as if the carpet were made of potpourri. Or that eighty scented candles were burning all at the same time.
Murray put his forearm up against his nose. “Good grief,” he choked out.
“No kidding,” Frank said. He dropped his weight onto a couch that was less comfortable than it appeared. He lowered his voice. “Should we bring up the cat incident, see if it’s connected here?”
“Not yet. I want to keep it to this thing first, see what, if anything, we can get out of the girl.”
They both heard footsteps above them, some muddled conversation, and then the padding sound of feet coming downstairs. Susan entered, her daughter behind her, hands on her hips and attitude worn like an expensive accessory. “Caydance, this is Detective Murray and Officer Merret.”
“Am I going to be late for school?” she asked her mother.
“Just sit down, please. These men need to talk to you.”
She eyed them suspiciously, her arms now tightly folded across her chest. She plopped down in a floral chair and tucked her feet underneath her.
Murray said, “You’re Caydance Sanders?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know Gabriella Caldwell?”
“Yeah, she goes to my school. She was found last night, right?” Her eyes grew round at her own words.
“That’s right.” Murray took out his notepad. “Did you see Gabby at school yesterday?”
“I don’t know. Might’ve. We don’t hang out.”
“So you’re not friends?”
“She’s not a cheerleader, so no. We’re not friends.”
“Are you enemies?”
Caydance looked put out. “I don’t think about her. She’s not on my radar. Do you get what I’m saying?”
Susan stood beside her daughter. “Caydance, just answer the questions.”
“I am,” she said, rolling her eyes up toward her mom.
Frank watched Caydance’s every movement. Her face looked at ease, but her hands were telling a different story as they wound and unwound a piece of thread hanging from her tight-fitting jeans.
Murray scooted forward on the love seat a few inches, giving his full attention to the girl. “We have reason to believe you might know something about what happened to Gabby.”
Susan gasped. “What? What are you talking about?”
Murray kept his focus on Caydance. “If you know something, you need to tell us. It’s a serious offense to lie to the police or to withhold information you know would help in an investigation.”
“Do we need a lawyer?” Susan asked Frank.
“I don’t know, ma’am. That’s not up to us to decide. We’re just here to ask your daughter what she knows that could help us in the investigation.”
Caydance stared at Frank. Frank stared back at her. The kid was brash, as if the word authority had no meaning to her. She tucked her hair behind her ears and examined her cuticles.
“Caydance, do you know anything about what happened to Gabby?” Murray’s tone was kind, familiar, as if he were a favorite uncle chatting about holiday traditions. The intent was to lower her guard, though she didn’t seem bothered by anything other than being inconvenienced.
They watched the young woman; several seconds ticked by. Frank expected her to deny it, but instead she grew very still, her eyes fixed on the carpet. Her mother seemed not to know what to do. Her hand slid onto her daughter’s shoulder, and she looked back and forth between Frank and Murray.
“Look,” Caydance finally said, “it’s Zoey’s fault. She screwed it all up.”
Susan knelt next to Caydance. “What are you talking about?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. It was just a little revenge for what she said.”
“What she said?” Frank asked.
“On that Web site. About cheerleaders.” Caydance sighed heavily. “I tied her up, and Zoey was supposed to go untie her in like ten minutes.”
“I think you better stop right there,” Susan said, nearly out of breath. “We need to call a lawyer.”
“Mother, please. It’s not a big deal. If anyone should get in trouble, it’s Zoey. She didn’t do what she was supposed to do. She’s the one that left Gabby out there. And I even told Zoey that we didn’t know for sure if Gabby said that stuff anyway.”
Frank tried not to react in any way, but inside it was all he could do to suppress what wanted to come out. How could she be so flippant? Frank glanced at Murray, who played it cool, keeping an even expression. “I see. So Zoey was supposed to go untie her but didn’t do it?”
“I guess. I haven’t talked to Zoey. She was supposed to call and she didn’t, so I just assumed it all went down. I tried to call her and she didn’t answer her phone.”
Murray jotted on his notepad, keeping his tone easy. “So tell me exactly how it was supposed to take place.”
“Caydance, stop. Just stop. Don’t say anything else.”
Murray’s calm eyes turned toward Susan. “With all due respect, I don’t think this is the time to look out for your best interest. A young woman almost died last night, and if Caydance can help us piece together what happened, I think you should let her. But if you’d like, we can finish this up at the police station.”
Susan stared at her daughter, tears making her eyes shiny. “Caydance, you realize what you’ve done, don’t you?”
Caydance’s attitude seemed to have suddenly sobered up. Her hands dropped to her lap, and she studied her mother’s face without scorn. “I don’t know. I mean, we didn’t think this would happen. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“Tell me how it was supposed to happen.”
“Gabby’s just very… Sometimes she wanted to be one of us, you know? She’s nice and all that, but it wasn’t going to happen. But she kept trying to buddy up to Zoey, act like they had a lot in common. It was really getting on Zoey’s nerves. And then there was this thing on the Web site about how stupid cheerleaders are. So Zoey kind of pretended like they could be friends, and it was supposed to be a practical joke.”
Tears streamed down Susan’s face. She stood and backed away from the chair, shaking her head.
Caydance watched her mom for a moment, then looked at Murray.
“How did you get Gabby to go along with this?” Murray asked.
“Zoey asked her if she wanted to go to a party with us. Gabby snuck out of her house, and I picked her up a block away. I took her to the back room-”
“The back room?”
“That’s the rest area. That’s what we call it. I took her there and told her we were playing a little initiation game. I left, texted Zoey, and came home. That’s it.”
“You mean you left after you stripped her down and tied her to a tree?”
Susan stepped forward, wiping her damp face. She stood straighter and her eyes stirred with harshness. “All right, that’s enough. Is Caydance going to be in trouble? She told you everything. I think it was very courageous how she told the truth.”