Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco #2) - Debra Webb Page 0,66
his office. “Thank you, sir. No one wants this case solved more than me.”
“I’m very much aware of your personal interest in this case, Devlin.” He grabbed his briefcase. “But I will remind you again; stay out of the investigation. Sykes and Peterson have got this. I don’t want to hear about you digging around again. Are we understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go home, Devlin. That’s exactly where I’m going.”
“Good night, sir.”
Devlin Residence
Twenty-First Avenue South
Birmingham, 6:30 p.m.
Kerri had left the office, driven straight to her sister’s house to pick up her daughter and then home. She needed some alone time with Tori. She wasn’t sure exactly how she would go about this diplomatically, but she wasn’t going to sleep until she’d had this talk with Tori.
She started with, “You want me to order Chinese?”
Tori tossed her backpack onto the sofa. She never bothered taking it to her room if her homework was done. “Sure.”
Kerri made the call and then sat down on the sofa next to her daughter. “Can we talk until the food arrives?”
Tori shrugged. “Guess so.”
“I spoke to someone at the school Alice attended last fall.”
Tori’s eyes rounded. “About what?”
“I wanted to find out if there was any trouble there when Alice attended. I have a friend who works at Walker Academy, and I asked her.”
“Did she tell you something?” Uncertainty, hope welled in her voice and eyes.
Kerri nodded. “She told me about a group of girls Alice hung out with. There was some trouble, but no one died, thankfully. One of the girls talked about this religious stuff Alice was into. I think they were doing some sort of rituals. Not at school, of course.”
Tori looked away.
Kerri’s gut clenched. “You mentioned that you didn’t like visiting Alice’s house. Can you tell me more about that? It could be really important.”
Tori moistened her lips. “Are you going to tell the other detectives what I say?”
“Only Falco—if that’s okay with you.”
Tori nodded. “You can tell Falco anything. He’s my friend.”
He was. He was Kerri’s too. Her heart lightened at the thought.
“Did Alice do some sort of ritual when you and Sarah were there?”
Tori took a breath. “She would like wear this creepy mask and do all this chanting. It was really weird.”
“Did she tell you things you should be thinking or doing?”
Tori frowned. “What do you mean?”
“When she did the chanting, was she suggesting things about either of you or suggestions for any actions you should take? Like being mean to other kids or hurting yourself in some way?”
Tori shrugged again. “I don’t know. It was all totally creepy, and it made me feel creepy. I don’t remember all of it. It’s kind of . . . I don’t know . . . blurry. Like a dream.”
A new worry nudged Kerri. “Did you eat or drink anything before this chanting ritual began?”
Tori bit her lips, seemed to search for the right answer.
“Just tell me what you remember,” Kerri urged.
“We had dinner.” She thought some more. “Then cookies and milk later.”
“Did Alice’s aunt make you cookies and milk?”
Tori shrugged. “Alice brought them into her room on a tray. Three cups of milk and a small plate of cookies.”
Another knot tied in Kerri’s stomach. “Was it after you ate the cookies and milk that she started the ritual?”
Tori nodded. “A little while later, yeah.”
Anger unfurled inside Kerri. “I need you to listen carefully to me, Tori.”
She blinked, searched Kerri’s eyes.
“I want you to do your best to avoid Alice, okay?”
Uncertainty stole over her daughter’s face. “But she’ll be mad at me.”
“Possibly,” Kerri said, “but I think it’s really important that you stay as far away from Alice as possible. If she says anything to you, just tell her you’re not feeling well, and you don’t want her to catch whatever you have.”
It was an old reliable excuse.
“She won’t believe me.” Tori picked at her cuticles.
“You could stay with Diana and just skip the rest of the week. I’m sure—”
“No way!” Tori shot to her feet. “Then everyone will think the rumors are true. That I hurt Brendal and I’m staying home because I’m guilty.”
“Tori.” Kerri clasped her hands in her lap to prevent reaching for her. She knew her daughter well enough to know that look. She did not want her mother touching her or treating her like a baby at the moment. “You are not guilty of anything. I know you and I trust you. I need you to trust me.”
“What if I did?” She wilted back down onto the couch. “What if