Somewhere down the hall a phone rang over and over. The female officer glanced at Quinlan uncertainly. His smirk died away, but as he spoke he didn’t break eye contact with Emma.
“Get her out of here,” he muttered, jerking his head at Alex. The officer hesitated, but when Quinlan didn’t move, she took Alex by the arm and guided her back to the door. Emma wanted more than anything to call after her friend, to ask her forgiveness, but she knew she couldn’t show weakness in front of Quinlan now.
“So what’s your story, then?” Quinlan asked finally, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Aren’t you going to turn on your little tape recorder for this part of the interview?” she snapped. He scowled, reaching down to turn on the machine. She leaned back in her seat. “I came here to meet Sutton at the end of the summer. But she was the one who stood me up in Sabino Canyon, or so I thought. I waited forever, but she never showed up. Madeline Vega and the Fiorello twins found me on the bench and thought I was Sutton. The message had warned me not to say who I was, so I played along. I kept thinking Sutton would show up any minute and clear everything up.” A lump formed in Emma’s throat as she thought back to the hopes she’d had that first night, of meeting Sutton, of finding family. Of finally fitting in somewhere. Tears stung her eyes, but she kept her chin high, refusing to break Quinlan’s gaze. “Then I got a note, one that said Sutton was dead and I had to play along. I still have the note—that, and the others the killer left. I stitched them inside a purple pillow on Sutton’s bed. You can check.”
Quinlan gave an impatient grunt. His eyes glittered darkly as he leaned across the table toward her. “Let me tell you what I think. I think you’ve been stalking your sister for a long time. I think you’ve been watching her on Facebook and on Twitter. Maybe you even took a little road trip here to Tucson to watch her. She had everything you wanted, everything you never had yourself—money, popularity, a nice house, a loving family. And you decided to take it. You came out here without luggage, without ID, because you knew you wouldn’t need it, because you planned to take over her life.” Emma shook her head violently, but he stabbed at the crime scene photos between them with his index finger. “You pushed your sister down that ravine. And then it was easy. All you had to do was step into her shoes. You waited one night, then headed to Nisha Banerjee’s party, calling yourself Sutton. Luckily for you, your twin was a notorious practical joker, so if anyone suspected anything off, they could chalk it up to some kind of prank. You even came in here pretending to be yourself, so that you could have some semblance of an alibi if you got caught. A smart move, trying to make the truth look like a lie. But not smart enough.”
“You’re wrong,” Emma said, slamming her hands on the table. She almost surprised herself with the force of her anger. As Emma Paxton she’d never talked back to an authority figure. She’d always been the get-along girl, the foster kid who didn’t make trouble, a chameleon who could turn into whatever kind of person the adults in her life needed her to be. Now, though, she was possessed of a righteous fury all her own. “While you’re busy harassing me, the real murderer is getting away with it. Don’t you see? Someone’s setting me up.”
Quinlan gave her a long, measured look. Then he squared his jaw.
“I’m not going to lie. Sutton Mercer was a pain in my ass.” His gravelly voice was almost deadly calm. Suddenly the room was so quiet she could hear the second hand on Quinlan’s watch ticking. “But she was just a kid. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I can’t prove you killed her. Not yet, anyway. But I’m going to make it my mission to dog your steps until you slip up. Because you will, Emma. Criminals always do.”
“So can I go?” Emma asked, her voice shaking but clear.
Quinlan nodded. “Sure. We need both your BlackBerry and Sutton’s iPhone, though. And we’re impounding Sutton’s car for clues. Someone at the front desk can give you a ride wherever you’re heading