It does look like they’ve had a good day. A dirty one, but good. I scroll down and accidentally “like” the image.
Oh crap.
I’m four years deep in his account and I “liked” his picture. Will he get an instant notification? Should I hit it again to “unlike” it?
Yes. I hit it again and the red heart goes away. Did I undo it in time?
And then I see I have a new notification.
Shep Moore is following you
I could die. I suck at stalking more than at spying.
And then there’s another notification.
One new private message from Shep Moore
Oh. God.
I click on the message.
If you’re curious about me, I’ll tell you anything you want to know
I close out the app. Then power down my phone and bury my head in my pillow.
TRANSCRIPT OF THE OCTOBER 8 INTERVIEW AT ST. BARTHOLOMEW HIGH SCHOOL OF DANIEL HARDY BY DETECTIVE PIERCE, WITH BODY LANGUAGE COMMENTARY BY KATE MARINO
DET. PIERCE: Daniel, you were at the party at River Point the night before Grant Perkins died, is that right?
DANIEL: Yeah. That party was sick. I mean, all their parties are crazy, but that one was the best. Sucks there won’t be any more out there now.
KATE: He’s smiling. Bouncing in his seat.
DET. PIERCE: No, I can’t imagine there are going to be any more parties out there now. Tell me about it.
DANIEL: Sure, what do you want to know? And hey, can you tell me which one of them shot Grant?
DET. PIERCE: No. You posted a video online of a fight with the caption “Shit just got real at River Point.” We’re going to view it together and I want you to tell me what was happening.
KATE: The detective moves a laptop next to Daniel so Daniel can see it, but it’s also in view of the camera. Oh, I guess you can probably see that. Sorry. Well, anyway…okay…the video is starting. I’m going to tell you what’s happening while they watch it, just in case you haven’t seen it.
The video starts with Daniel panning the camera across the patio. People are standing around, lots of red cups. Then the camera moves to the left. There’s a girl. Her hair is long, probably brown or black…It’s hard to tell in the dark.
DANIEL: Oh yeah. This girl came out of nowhere. I mean, literally from the damn woods. She was screaming at Grant.
DET. PIERCE: Do you know who the girl is? From your angle, it’s hard to see her face.
DANIEL: Man, I don’t know who she was. Like I said, she came out of nowhere.
DET. PIERCE: What was she saying? The audio isn’t clear.
KATE: Daniel leans in close to the laptop and pops his knuckles. He’s got a weird smile on his face. I think he’s enjoying this. His enthusiasm is grossing me out. Okay, the girl in the video is making a beeline for Grant. He doesn’t even see her coming. She jumps on his back and is pounding on him. They both fall to the ground.
DANIEL: I don’t know what she was saying, I wasn’t that close. Damn, you ever seen a chick riled up like that? It was hot. I mean, seriously hot. You see those leggings she was wearing? I wouldn’t have minded having her all over me like that if I was Grant. Not at all.
KATE: Daniel is disgusting. Sorry, I know you don’t want personal commentary, but he’s disgusting.
DET. PIERCE: Why do you think the girl was upset with Grant?
KATE: Daniel shrugs. And then in the video, Henry is there. He pulls the girl off of Grant…pulls her off to the side, farther away from the camp. His hands frame her face. He’s talking to her. Their heads are close. She leans forward until her forehead rests against his. His hands slide back into her hair while her hands come to his shoulders. Oh wait, now she’s pushing him away and running back the way she came. She’s gone. Henry watches her go, then turns back toward Grant.
DANIEL: I walked a little closer so, you know, I could hear what they were saying. Henry got right up in Grant’s face. They argued for a few minutes, pushing each other.
KATE: The video ends.
DET. PIERCE: What were they arguing about?
DANIEL: Henry was yelling at Grant. Said something like, “You better hope you didn’t do what I think you did.”
DET. PIERCE: So what did Henry mean by that?
DANIEL: Man, I don’t know.
DET. PIERCE: What happened next?
DANIEL: Henry went chasing after the hot girl and Grant went back to the party.
SEPTEMBER 23, 9:13 P.M.
GRANT SHEP: Where are you applying to college?
KATE: The New School
GRANT SHEP: What new school
KATE: haha no, The New School
GRANT SHEP: Where is that? Next to The Old School? I think you’re messing me.
By the time I get to the field, all of the cheerleaders are there, dressed and ready. I pull Julianna off to the side. “Y’all go through some of your regular stunts and routines and I’ll just stand off to the side and snap some pics.”
“Okay,” she says, then turns to the other girls, giving them instructions.
It really is amazing to watch them in action. Girls are flying through the air and flipping around, and they make it look so easy. When I feel like I’ve got what I need, I signal Julianna again.
“I’m going to upload these now. Want to come to media arts with me and look at them?” I ask her.
“Oh yeah! I’d love to see them. I might get you to send a few of them to me, if that’s okay,” Julianna says.
“Of course.”
The other girls walk off the field toward the locker rooms while Julianna and I turn in the opposite direction to head to media arts.
“I met a girl the other night at Rhino who goes to St. Bart’s. Rebecca Meyers? Do you know her?”
Julianna smiles. “Yeah! We played soccer when we were younger.”
I’m about to ask her if she knows Lindsey too, when we run into the River Point Boys, who are just leaving the cafeteria. Since all of them, except Shep, went to elementary and middle school with her at St. Bart’s, they stop.
Henry moves in first, stopping just a few feet in front of her. “Man, it’s good to see a friendly face around here.” His eyes are on her, and I take a step back, trying to separate myself from the group.
“How are y’all holding up?” she asks.
Henry shrugs, and then Logan and John Michael move in a little closer. Shep keeps his distance, but his eyes move over everyone.
“We’ll be back at St. Bart’s soon enough,” Logan says. “They’ll look like idiots once this is all over.”
Julianna pivots toward me and says, “Y’all, this is K—”
Before Julianna has a chance to introduce them to me, Henry interrupts her. “We know who she is.”
“Oh, okay,” Julianna says weakly.
Logan looks at my camera, then at me. “You might want to rethink who you’re hanging out with, Ju.”
Julianna is clearly confused by the hostility in their voices. Shep is the only one who isn’t staring at me with daggers in his eyes.
Henry moves away, saying, “We’ll catch up with you later. Wouldn’t want to give her anything to report back.”
I try not to cringe at his words. Shep looks like he’s about to say or do something, but then he just turns around, following Logan and Henry at a distance.
But John Michael lingers. He leans close to Julianna and nods toward me. “She’s playing for the other side is all, and we’re in enough shit as it is.” He winks at her before turning away. Julianna looks at me funny.
I give her a weak smile and a shrug. “I work for the prosecutor assigned to Grant’s case. So I guess you can say they aren’t my biggest fans.”
Julianna gives me a slow nod, looking between me and the retreating River Point Boys. “I guess not. Don’t let them bother you. They can be jerks.”
When they’re finally out of sight, I ask, “Do you think any of them will ever admit what really happened out there that m
orning?” I ask.
Julianna’s forehead scrunches up. “No. I don’t. They may be different now from when we were kids, but some things never change. I think they’ll cover for each other forever.”
We head to the media arts room and Julianna pulls a chair up next to my desk. We scroll through the images, picking the best ones, and then she bounces out of the room just before the bell rings.
I’m gathering my things so I can head to work when Miranda, one of the other photographers, pops in and moves to the giant dry-erase board that lists everyone’s assignments.
She scribbles out: Downtown, 5 p.m.—Key Club donation.
“What’s going on downtown?” I ask, as I balance my backpack on one shoulder and my camera bag on the other.
“Mrs. Deason just stopped me in the hall. There’s a barbecue cook-off fund-raiser for St. Jude’s. Friends and families of patients are putting it on. Ten bucks to sample the food with all the money going to the hospital. The Key Club is presenting some money they raised.”
The second she says “St. Jude,” I think about Rebecca and her interview, where she mentions Lindsey’s sister is a patient there.
“You looking for someone to cover it?” I ask.
“You want it?” she asks.
“Sure, I’ll already be down there, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Miranda marks my name by the assignment and we leave the room together. “Perfect. They’re presenting the money right after the winners are announced,” Miranda says. We part ways at the end of the hall, with her heading to fifth period, me to work.
• • •
I pull into the employee parking lot and it looks like the cookout will be happening on the front lawn of the courthouse. People are already getting ready for the event. There’s a band setting up off to one side and rows and rows of grills lined up along the sidewalk.
The afternoon flies by, and before I know it, most of the people who work at the courthouse are filing out onto the lawn, chasing the smells that have been teasing us all day.
“I’m going to eat so much barbecue that you’re going to have to roll me home,” Reagan says. “Every time the main door opened, we got a whiff of whatever they’re cooking. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry in my life.”
We pay our ten dollars, and one of the volunteers gives us wristbands. There are people everywhere. On the raised platform, there are several judges eating barbecue, including the district attorney. I smirk when I catch a glimpse of Gaines’s face covered in sauce.
The group from my school is off to the side, holding one of those ridiculous oversize checks, made out to St. Jude’s for five thousand dollars.
“You do your thing. I’ll catch up with you later,” Reagan says, then heads toward the food.
“Leave some for me,” I call back. I stop in front of the Key Club group. “When do y’all present it?” I ask.
“Right after they announce the winner. They’re about halfway through the judging process right now.”
I motion for them to get together behind the check so I can take a couple pictures of them.
When I’m done, I wander off, checking out the scene. There are families spread out on blankets and kids running around everywhere. The air is rich with sweet and tangy aromas, and the smoke pouring out of the grills hovers just below the tree canopies.
Reagan is halfway down the line and has somehow talked herself behind one of the grills and is flipping barbecued chicken.
Even though I’m only here to take pics of the Key Club donation, I can’t help but grab a few candids of scenes that catch my eye. I move around the edge of the crowd, taking in everything. There’s a little boy toddling around, holding a turkey leg that looks bigger than his head, and a girl sitting next to a tree, crying, while she rubs a napkin over a stain on her dress. Through the lens, I sweep across the lawn and spot Henry and John Michael across the street. John Michael is still, his head resting against the old brick wall of an abandoned building, while Henry is pacing around in a small circle.
I fire off a few shots of them. John Michael says something to Henry that has Henry cracking a smile, but he doesn’t stop pacing.
Moving to the nearest tree, I step behind it just enough to conceal most of my body. Henry stops pacing the second a girl comes out of the coffee shop next door. She’s wearing a T-shirt with the coffee shop’s logo, so I’m guessing she’s just getting off work. She’s looking at the ground, her long hair covering a portion of her face, so it’s hard to see what she looks like. Henry calls out, startling her.
John Michael is still leaning against the building, but Henry takes a few steps until he’s right in front of where she stopped, in the center of the sidewalk. She pushes her hair out of her face and I’m able to get an unobstructed shot of her. Henry inches even closer, his hands framing her face, then sliding back in her hair. She tips her head toward his.
Wait. I’ve seen this before.
The girl in the video the perv witness took. Henry handled her the same way. Wrapped his hands in the same long, dark hair while she leaned into him.
I didn’t get a good look at her, but this is too familiar to ignore. It’s got to be the same girl. But who is she?
They stand this way for a few seconds until the girl starts shaking her head. Henry’s hands slip away, but he doesn’t move.
They watch each other a moment, then the girl sprints across the street, toward the courthouse. Henry turns to John Michael, who has been waiting patiently off to the side, absorbed in his phone. John Michael shoos him off, and Henry follows after the girl. I lose sight of them once they mix with the crowd. When I turn back around, John Michael is still just standing there, hasn’t moved an inch. Then an older-model car pulls up to the curb. John Michael doesn’t hesitate. He pushes away from the building and gets in the backseat. The car pulls away and I take a quick pic of the license plate.
Weird.
I move away from the tree and walk down the sidewalk in front of the contestants, eager to get a taste of what they’re cooking, but I almost lose my breath when I notice the posters hanging from each table, showing the child they are honoring while they cook.
“You want to try some brisket?” a man in a KISS THE COOK apron asks.
“Sure, thanks,” I answer, and take the small sample plate. My gaze is drawn to the image of a bald-headed little girl on the booth’s sign as I take a bite of the food.
He sees me looking. “That’s Mazie, my granddaughter. She’s at St. Jude’s right now, so we’re down here cooking for her.”
Oh, wow. This is so sad. “Is she going to be okay?” I ask.
“We’re hopeful,” he says, with a small smile.
“Your brisket is delicious. I hope you win.”
Moving down the line away from the judges’ table, I stop at every station. Reagan serves me an extra-large helping when I get to the booth she’s in.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
She shrugs. “They were shorthanded. I offered to help. I get all the chopped-beef sandwiches I want,” she says with a huge smile.
I sample everything while I read each detail about the children represented here. My chest is tight by the time I get to the end of the line.
I stop at the next to last table, looking at the picture there.
“Want to try some ribs?”
My eyes pop up and I’m looking at Lindsey.
I’ve been so engrossed with the posters that I almost forgot I came here on the off chance I would see her.
“Sure. Thanks,” I say, and take the sample plate she’s offering.
“I met you the other night, didn’t I?” she asks. I can tell by her expression that she knows exactly who I am.
I nod. “Yeah, at Rhino Coffee.”
“You’re the one who works for the guy who has Grant’s case,” she says. It’s not a question.
“Yes, I am.”
She glances back at the man working the grill, probably her dad, and
then leans closer so no one else hears her. “You said y’all don’t have much on his case. Is that still true?”
I was right. She knows something.
“I’m afraid that’s still true.” I wait a second before adding, “He called you that morning, didn’t he?”
Her shoulders go back and she glances over her shoulder again. Then, in a quiet voice, she says, “I’m pretty sure I already answered that question. Some woman called me about this a few days ago.”
I nod. “I just thought there might be more you could tell us. Right now, we have…so little to go on. Even if it was an accident, I think the one who did it should answer for it, don’t you?”
Lindsey bites her bottom lip but doesn’t say anything else.
Okay. I can see this is going nowhere. I hold my sample plate up and give her a small smile. “This smells wonderful. I’m sorry about your sister.”
I turn away, prepared to stop at the last booth, when I see Henry instead. He’s with the girl; they’re sitting on a bench. His arm is around her, and her head is on his shoulder while he’s saying something in her ear. The pose is so sweet that my fingers itch for my camera.
I turn to set my plate down to free my hands and I notice Lindsey is watching them, too. Her eyes narrow, and she’s still chewing on her bottom lip. Then she spins around and heads to the back of her booth. I grab a quick shot of them and then study them through the lens.
Henry is really protective of this girl. And whatever happened to her has something to do with Grant, but what? How does she fit into this puzzle?
It’s dangerous to be back here. We’ve all been instructed not to come back to River Point without supervision.
But I’m not going to find what I’m looking for if my parents won’t let me out of their sight.
I wander around the property, around to the back patio and out into the woods.
How did Grant do it?
I walk back to the patio and take in every inch. All those nights spent out here and we never knew what he was really up to.
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