nothing else as he left the room, and when the door latched, I looked at Ollie. Up in the corner, I knew the camera was recording anything that was being said in the room.
Talk about unnerving.
“Just remember,” Ollie whispered, “I’m here.”
I tried to let his words reassure me, to pretend like his presence here was a shield. Easier said than done, considering I had no idea why I was here the morning after the party. Nothing happened. Nothing—
Detective Wilde returned moments later, a lidless cup of coffee in his grip. Steam wafted off it, and he set it down on the metal table before sitting in the chair opposite us. He all but groaned when he took a sip, and I waited with bated breath to see just why the hell I was here. Like, come on, man. Don’t keep me in suspense. It's just rude.
“All right, let’s get started,” Detective Wilde said, glancing between us, though his hazel eyes bore into me a bit more. “When’s the last time you saw Chelsea Rogerson and Deetra Harris?”
My heart immediately sunk, dropping all the way to the floor when he brought up their names. What in the hell did they have to do with anything? They weren’t at the party last night, were they? If they were, surely they would’ve made themselves known…
“Friday at school,” I said, looking at Ollie. That was okay to say, right? God, I wasn’t sure having him here made me feel better or not. Anything I said, I was worried would make me look guilty.
“So you didn’t see them at the party that was held last night at the Taylor residence?” Detective Wilde clarified, folding his arms on top of each other as he leaned forward on the table. For a man that just had his coffee, he was remarkably alert…but then I realized that maybe he’d been up for hours.
Maybe something happened at that party I wasn’t aware of.
“I’m sorry,” Ollie said. “What does this have to do with my client, Detective?”
“The department got a call early this morning,” he explained, pausing to take another sip of his coffee, nursing it like most Americans did nowadays. I saw his finger fiddling with his wedding band, even though his wife had left him. “The Taylors were out with friends. After the party, when their son was cleaning up, he found Deetra and Chelsea tied up in a closet upstairs.”
Tied up? Oh, well, that didn’t sound too bad—
“Their throats were cut,” Detective Wilde added, his serious expression one hundred percent on me and not the coffee before him. As if I didn’t get it, he said, “They’re both dead.”
Chelsea and Deetra were dead? Well…shit. That didn’t make me look good, did it? First Brittany, now her two best friends…and that was already after Ryan and his friends ended up dead. People really did have a habit of dropping like flies around me, but it wasn’t like I could help it. I didn’t sic Dante or Vaughn on Ryan and his friends; they made that choice by themselves. And as for Brittany…it wasn’t me.
I couldn’t say anything for a while, but my mouth did drop open. Beside me, Ollie’s demeanor shifted. It was serious before, but now…now it was even more so. More teenagers dead.
All because of me? Because someone wanted me to look bad? Someone wanted me to pay? I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand. I literally kept my head low besides screwing up when it came to Archer in the beginning. I didn’t go around making enemies; the whole school just took Brittany’s side because I was the newbie. I never had a chance.
Detective Wilde studied my reaction. He’d been at this for years, so I hoped whatever he saw on my face right then only helped to prove to him that I didn’t do it. “Judging by your expression, you had no idea,” he said.
“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t even know they were at the party. I didn’t see them.”
“Who did you spend time with at the party? We’re trying to interview everyone who was there, get a bigger picture.”
When I glanced at Ollie, he nodded, so I said, “I spent the night with Archer Vega.” I wasn’t sure if I should bring up Bobbi or not; I didn’t want to get her in trouble. Besides, she hadn’t stayed. She’d seen me and left right after, just wanting to make sure I was okay.