“Both.”
She grew paler. “Can this be kept from my mother?”
“Clear this up now, and she’ll never be the wiser.”
She worried her lip.
“At least you were never on camera,” I added.
“Abigail wouldn’t let me. I’m just a geek, so I could only do the technical stuff.”
“Whose idea was it?”
“Abby’s. She found out that Chrissie had this porn site and told her that if she didn’t let her in on it, she’d tell.”
“Only it didn’t work out the way Abigail planned, did it?”
Again, she shook her head. “Abby’s pretty, but not like Chrissie. Chrissie’s the one the guys wanted to see. Chrissie said she was bringing in all the money. She didn’t see why she had to split so much of it with us. So she went back to having her own site and took the best-paying guys with her. Abigail and Susan were left with the crazies, the guys who wanted weird stuff. They got angry.”
“How angry?”
A pause. “Very.”
There was a knock on the door. It was Lee: time for a talk with Amber and Chloe.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, and stepped outside.
“They’re in one and two,” Lee said.
“Parents come?”
“The girls refused to have ’em.”
They were old enough. They had that right.
“Dumb choice,” I said. “But thank God they made it.”
SUSAN HAD BACKED her chair into a corner, so her back was against the wall. She was hugging herself and chewing on a lock of hair.
“Hi, Susan,” I said.
“Hi.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
I had a folder thick with papers and labeled with her name. I slapped it on the desk, and she cringed. Lee leaned against the wall. I perched on the edge of the desk and regarded her with concern. She averted her eyes.
“So, I guess you know why you’re here,” I said. “I can understand why you didn’t bring your mother.”
She licked her lips.
“Susan, we know about the porn sites and we know that you were there, in Chrissie’s room, when it happened.”
Her eyes widened. “No – ”
“We know that you and Abigail gave Chrissie pot-laced brownies. That you baked them in Abigail’s kitchen and told Chrissie they were a peace present.”
“But – ”
“We know that once Chrissie was high, you and Abigail stabbed her and pushed her out the window.”
“No! I would’ve never hurt Chrissie. I – ”
“You were just angry at her because she was being selfish. You guys had worked just as hard as she had. It wasn’t fair that she should end up with the best-paying customers, right?”
“But – ”
“I should tell you that Claire’s in the other room.” I paused. “And she’s told us everything.”
She was frantic. “But she – no! It didn’t happen that way. I swear it!”
“Then what did happen?”
She looked down. “I… I can’t talk about it. Abigail said – ”
“Abigail said to lie to us, didn’t she?”
She didn’t answer.
“Susan, it’s time for me to read you your rights.”
“Does this mean I’m under arrest?”
I didn’t answer, just pulled out a card bearing Miranda and read it to her. I looked at her and shook my head. “It’s a shame.”
“What?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with tears.
“I’d like to believe you didn’t kill Chrissie. But the evidence says you did. And unless you speak up, you’re going down for it.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand.
“Too late,” I said. “I can’t hear another word you have to say – not unless…” I handed her the card and the pen. “Initial it and we can hear your side of it.”
She hesitated, and then, tears rolling down her cheeks, she scratched her initials.
“We didn’t kill her.” She sniffed. “I swear we didn’t.”
“We can prov – ”
“We did give her the brownies. But we really meant to make up with her.”
Lee and I maintained a cynical silence.
She looked from me to him, wide-eyed and terrified. “Please! You’ve got to believe me!”
“Susan, I’m trying to help you. Don’t bullshit me.”
She swallowed and gave in to a shudder but didn’t speak.
“Okay. If that’s the way it’s going to be, then…” I spoke to Lee and pointed to Susan. “Take her out.”
She blanched. “Wha -?”
He laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“No!” She twisted around. “Please! I’ll tell you what I know.”
“I don’t have time to waste,” I said.
“I’m not going to jail for her. I want this to be over. I want it to stop!”
She covered her face with her hands and burst into terrified sobs.
ABIGAIL EXAMINED ONE expensively manicured fingernail.
“So,” I said. “Whose idea was it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Am I under arrest?”
“Should you be?”
Abigail pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’m leaving. You can’t – ”
“Girlfriend, we can do this hard or we can do it easy. You talk to me alone or with your parents. Either way, you will talk.”
She thought about it, lifted her chin, and flopped back down in the chair. “What do you want?”
“The truth.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Did I tell you that my daddy’s a lawyer? He eats people like you for breakfast.”
“Well, he’s about to get a bad case of indigestion, and you’re the reason why.”
She started to retort but thought better of it.
“We already have you on the porn,” I said. “And now we’re going to get you for murder. We know how you did it and why. Best of all, we have proof: the brownies that made Chrissie so dizzy she couldn’t fight you, and witnesses who saw you leaving the apartment.”
Lee came in and handed me a file with Abigail’s name written prominently on it, and three typed sheets of paper laid atop it. He glanced at Abigail, who gave him a knowing look and ran the tip of her tongue along her lower lip. He laughed at her, and she flushed. He started out, then turned back.
“Take some advice,” he told her. “My partner here, she’s not interested in giving you another chance. Me, I think it’s only fair to tell you that Claire’s already cut a deal. She’s hung you out to dry.”
I held up the three sheets. “It’s all here.”
“She said that I…?” Abigail’s mouth dropped open. “That little bitch! That crazy little bitch!” She sat up. “Now, you listen to me…”
“HER MOTHER SHOULD be here,” Lee said.
I agreed.
We glanced through the wired glass pane in the door. She’d taken out a small fingernail file, the handle ornate, not something you’d expect a girl too shy to wear makeup or stylish clothes to have.
The tip was broken.
I went in. “What an unusual file.”
“Chrissie gave it to me.”
“No, she didn’t.”
She went very still. “You’ve been speaking to Abigail, haven’t you? Why do you believe her? She’s a liar.”
“So are you.”
What color she had drained from her face.
“But it doesn’t matter,” I continued. “The nail file won’t lie.”
For a long moment, she forgot to breathe. Then, hands trembling, she continued to file her nails. “So what’s next?”
“We’ve called your mother.”
“She doesn’t care.”
“I’m reading you your rights.”
“Don’t bother.”
I took out the card. “You have the right – ”
“Don’t. Bother.”
Carefully, she stored the file in her backpack. “Am I supposed to sign something? Let’s get this over with.”
“The file: why didn’t you get rid of it?”
“Because it was Chrissie’s. It’s pretty… like she was.” Her voice was calm, her tone rational. “It was their fault. Chrissie’s and Abigail’s. They made it happen. They wanted it. Maybe not Susan – but Abigail definitely.”