the ancient flat-panel TV hanging above and behind the guy. Mayor Emma Warren and Leland Walsh stood at a podium.
“Hey, turn that up,” Kerri said, jerking her head toward the screen.
The guy had Falco’s money in his hand and seemed more interested in settling their bill than catering to Kerri’s wishes.
“Turn it up,” Falco echoed more sharply.
The guy huffed a sigh and grabbed the remote.
“With every passing hour,” the mayor was saying, “the likelihood of finding those responsible for the murder of Asher Walsh grows dimmer, more fleeting. The Walsh family is now offering a one-million-dollar reward to anyone who provides information leading to the arrest and subsequent prosecution of those involved.”
“Holy shit,” Falco murmured.
“My sentiments exactly,” Kerri agreed.
Reporters shouted questions at the mayor as the hotline numbers scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Leland Walsh stared somberly at the camera. Behind him, scarcely in the frame, his wife stood next to Agent Mason Cross. The expression she wore might have been pain, but Kerri sensed it was something else. Fury, maybe.
Why was the mother of the victim unhappy, possibly even angry about offering a reward?
“I guess the Walshes don’t trust the task force to get the job done,” Falco said as he accepted his change from the guy in the dark glasses.
Kerri hummed an uh-huh as she stared at the screen. There was just something wrong with that picture.
Maybe money was more important to Lana Walsh than Kerri had estimated.
23
2:00 p.m.
Brighton Academy
Seventh Avenue
Birmingham
Tori sat on the gym floor and watched the other girls in her class playing basketball. Everyone but Sarah. She hadn’t come to school today. Tori had told the coach she had awful cramps so she could sit out.
The only cramps she had were in her chest. Everyone was still talking about her. Brendal’s funeral was on Sunday, and the whole school now thought Tori was responsible for what had happened.
Sarah had barely spoken to her the past couple of days. Alice always had plenty to say, but Tori really didn’t want to hear any of it. She wanted to go home and stay there forever.
Or maybe just disappear. None of these people would miss her.
Tori closed her eyes and banished the idea. Her mom and dad would miss her. Her whole family would. She was just feeling sorry for herself. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
The coach’s whistle shrieked, and Tori’s attention shifted to the girls on the court. Alice had fallen. Two of her teammates helped her up. She walked as if she’d twisted her ankle. The game resumed as soon as Alice had hobbled over to sit on the floor next to Tori.
Great.
Alice rubbed her ankle and winced.
“You okay?” Tori found herself asking in spite of her intention not to say a word. Her mom had warned her to stay away from Alice.
Funny thing, since Brendal’s fall Alice had suddenly turned into like the most popular girl in school. Tori didn’t want to hate anyone, but right now she hated Alice. Maybe she even hated Sarah.
“It’s nothing,” Alice said. She hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t like this class. It’s so boring and pointless.”
This was one thing they could agree on.
When Tori said nothing, Alice turned to her. “Are you okay?”
Tori shrugged. “Cramps.”
“I thought maybe you were upset about Sarah.” She stared forward then as if she hadn’t dropped a bomb.
“She’s probably just not feeling well,” Tori said. Sarah almost never missed school. She had to be really sick to be absent. Twice this morning Tori had started a text to her and then deleted the words. Sarah hadn’t sent her a text. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t talked to her at school.
Why should Tori be the one to reach out?
“She had to be interviewed by the police again,” Alice said. “She told me yesterday. She was really worried.”
Tori made a face. “She didn’t tell me.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Tori stared at Alice’s profile. “What does that mean?”
“She told me she was going to tell the police the truth.”
Dread swelled in Tori’s stomach. “What truth?”
“That you were the one who pushed Brendal.”
“What?” Tori hadn’t meant to shout the word. Several girls in the game glanced their way, as did the coach.
“I told you,” Alice said in a sharp whisper. “Sarah believes it was you.”
Tori wasn’t listening to this again. “Just stop.” She scrambled to her feet. “You’re making that up. Sarah is my best friend, not yours.”
Alice stared up at her as if Tori had slapped her. Tears burned Tori’s eyes, but she refused to let