With a gentle hand, Ricardo nudges my shoulder, but I swat him away. I get out of my chair and cross to my bed to grab my pillow, hugging it tight against my chest.
Taking my earbuds from the desktop, Ricardo pops them into his ears as he takes my seat.
Out the window, the police are walking slowly up the first row of cars, checking license plates and bumpers. What little time I have is winding down with loud ticks that reverberate through my head.
My entire body is tense as he listens to the call, wondering what he’s hearing. Tires screeching over pavement. The terrifying last scream from a dying man. Ricardo’s reflection in the window shows him leaning close to the laptop and squinting his eyes. Then he sits back and meets my gaze in the glass.
“You should listen to this.” He gestures toward the computer.
Realizing I’ve got my fingernail in my mouth, I frown. It took me ages to stop biting my nails, but all of this stress is going to make me start again. “Are you sure? It’s not… bad?”
“Just come here.” He takes out the earbuds and gestures for me to sit. In his lap.
“Not a chance.”
“Worth a shot.” He vacates my desk chair, standing to one side.
Once I’m seated, Ricardo starts the call again.
“911, what’s your emergency and where are you located?”
“Uh, oh my God. They… they ran him over. Didn’t even slow down. My God.”
“Ma’am, can you tell me where you are located?”
“I’m, uh… on Academy Road, in front of Brat Academy.”
“Thank you. Units are on their way to you. Can you describe your emergency?”
Heavy breathing
“Ma’am?”
“Someone just got run over. They’re in the middle of the street. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Sounds of heaving
The newscaster explains that the call was made anonymously, and the police are asking the person to come forward. Whoever it was, they apparently didn’t want to be involved.
The news report stops, and I sit back in my chair, my pulse ratcheted up and my stomach in so many twists I don’t know if it’ll ever unravel. This is bad. I knew—KNEW—that I had run over Professor Rook once I heard that he’d been killed. There was even gunk in my tire wells. But how do I explain that it wasn’t purposeful, in contradiction to this 911 call? It’ll be my word against an anonymous woman, and I bet everyone accused of a crime like this pleads innocence. No one will believe me.
Outside, the police are walking past Cal’s car. Stopping to examine its hood. One of them stares at the license plate number for a second before looking at his phone.
A tightening in my throat constricts my airway. Did Mo miss something? Did I?
Ricardo leans a hip against my desk. “Why would the caller want to remain anonymous? They aren’t guilty of anything, are they?”
I look up at him, my mind latching onto that idea. “I have to listen to it again.”
It goes by in a flash, but I listen another couple of times.
As I listen, the voice starts to sound familiar. The cadence and accent bounce around my synapses, trying to find purchase. I’m almost positive I’ve heard that voice before. It almost sounds like someone trying to disguise their voice by putting on an accent. But why would they do that? I push that question aside. I must be imagining it.
“It’s weird that the caller hung up before describing the car or checking on the body, right? If she’d stayed on the line, wouldn’t the emergency operator have asked her to do that stuff?”
Ricardo shrugs. “Probably. I don’t know.”
“Then why hang up?” I start pacing back and forth across my room, tapping my lips as I think it through. The only explanation I can come up with is one that’s far-fetched, but not unheard of. “What if the caller didn’t actually see the accident? What if she was taking a walk, saw the body, and decided to concoct a story?”
“What would someone gain from that?”
My eyes widen. “Attention?”
Ricardo’s head lilts to one side. “Then she wouldn’t have made the call anonymously.”
I sag. I’m grasping at straws. “You’re right.”
“Twice in one day. That must be a record for you.”
“Shut up.”
If it IS a hoax, it’s drawing the police away from the actual facts of the case. Someone has just saved my bacon without knowing it. Whoever it is, I owe them big time.
“While I’ve got you alone,” Ricardo says, leaning forward with his flirty smile sliding into place.