“Brooke, this is important. I’m pretty sure they think you did it.” Brooke’s head was swimming. Was he telling the truth? Or was this just another one of Jake’s mind games to coerce her into doing what he wanted?
“What did they say?”
“I told you! Not on the phone!” He was angry now. She pictured him pacing near the windows of his condo, gripping his cell phone so hard he risked breaking it.
“I want to see you,” she said. “I really do. They were asking me questions yesterday too. I got a lawyer. But I have to act normal right now. Do what they want me to.” The most believable lies always contained partial truths. She’d read that somewhere. Just in case Jake had followed her to the police station yesterday, she wanted to explain why she was there before he had a chance to ask. Alex had seen him drive by the house, so it was unlikely he had, but it was better to keep up the appearance that she was forthcoming.
“Fine,” Jake hissed. “Tomorrow? After school?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly. “I’ll come over right after seventh period.” She waited for him to say something about the new alarm system. She knew he knew about it. But he didn’t know she knew. He didn’t bring it up.
“I love you,” he said, but there was no kindness in his voice at all.
“I love you too.” Brooke tried to infuse some emotion in her response but she wasn’t sure she had succeeded. “Bye.” Ending the call and lowering herself onto the new chair Alex had bought, she gazed out the window at the morning sky. If Jake had been telling the truth, what had the police asked him about her? They obviously hadn’t arrested him, so maybe they were convinced he didn’t do it. And if Tryg had confessed after she left the police station yesterday, they wouldn’t have bothered going to Jake’s, right? Maybe she was still their prime suspect. If that were all true, they certainly weren’t going to tell her they were building a case against her.
Brooke’s introspection was interrupted by a soft knock on her door. Her mother poked her head into the room.
“I made breakfast,” she said.
I’m not hungry, Brooke almost said but decided not to. “Okay. I’ll come down.” She didn’t want to eat but she wanted to get out of her room and away from her thoughts. Her mom nodded. Brooke could hear her padding down the hall in her slippers.
Sitting across from her mother would at least distract her. And maybe she could help her decide what to do about Jake. She shook a pill from the bottle and cupped it in her palm. Brooke had bought herself some time—a day and a half—but she couldn’t put Jake off forever. There was one thing she was absolutely sure of. Jake would not be ignored.
“Where’s Alex?” Brooke asked as she stepped into the kitchen where the spicy smell of her mother’s frittata wafted from the oven.
“He wanted to get some salt for the sidewalk. If it rains tonight, they think it’ll turn to ice.”
“Oh,” Brooke said and scooped some melon onto her plate. She couldn’t remember it ever being this cold in October before. Maybe it was Maddie’s doing. If she couldn’t be around to enjoy her favorite holiday, everyone else was going to suffer, too. Stop it, Brooke thought. Don’t even think those things about her. Remember the good things about Mads. And yet, somewhere deep down, Brooke had a feeling the unseasonable chill had at least a little to do with what had happened to her best friend.
“Coffee?”
“Sure.”
Her mom pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured Brooke a cup. For a moment, everything felt normal. Like it was any other Sunday morning. Appreciating the reprieve, she almost wanted to avoid telling her mom about Jake’s call, but knew she couldn’t. Brooke pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted it open. She thought about what she would say as she popped a pill in her mouth and swallowed it down.
“So Jake called me this morning.”
Her mother, who had been refilling her own cup, set the coffeepot aside. “You didn’t answer, did you?”
“Mom, I had to.”
“We talked about this,” her mother said, rubbing her forehead. “No contact, remember?”
“You don’t understand how obsessive he is.”
“What good is having a lawyer if you’re not going to listen to her?”
“I am listening to her. But in this one scenario, you guys need to trust my judgment. I know Jake.” Brooke’s mother exhaled, seemingly defeated.
“What did he have to say?” she finally asked.
“He said the police went to his house and asked him a bunch of questions about me,” Brooke said flatly, putting the cap back on her water.
“He did?” Her mother looked up, more interested now.
“Yeah. He wanted to get together ’cuz he refused to give me details on the phone, but I told him I couldn’t today. I’m supposed to meet him after school tomorrow. He obviously thinks I’m going.” Brooke eyed her mother, who slowly lifted her mug to her lips and drank, the wheels clearly turning in her head.
“He sort of implied that the police think I’m guilty. But it’s hard to know if he’s telling the truth,” Brooke added.
“He could be spinning that to keep you off balance. Maybe the questions were more about what he was doing the night of the party,” her mom said.
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Brooke replied. “But what if he is being honest? I mean, they obviously didn’t arrest him.”
“Did he mention anything about the knife?”
“No. But I don’t think he would. Only one of two things happened. They either asked him if he dug the knife out of the dumpster or they didn’t. If they did, he knows I ratted on him.”
“Was he upset on the phone?”
“No, but he’s not gonna act upset if he wants me to meet him. He’d hide it. I mean, either he doesn’t know I told and wants to meet because he thinks I’m gonna be arrested, or . . . he knows I talked to the cops about him and he wants to . . . what? Talk me out of it? Kill me? I have no clue.” Brooke was surprised that she felt no emotion as she conveyed her thoughts to her mother. It was like she’d turned off the part of her brain that would’ve been scared thinking that someone might want to hurt her and she’d tapped into the cerebral part, the part that allowed her to detach and think like a detective.
“Well, you obviously can’t meet with him,” her mother said, her voice shaking a little. It was clear her mom had not turned off her emotion.
“Is there a way the lawyer can find out what the detectives told him?”
She could see her mother was thinking. “I can call her and find out.” Her mother scooped her cell phone from her purse and rooted through until she found Ossa’s business card. Hopeful, Brooke watched her mother dial. She could hear the faint ring through the phone. Suddenly, her mother perked up and nodded.
“Hi, Ms. Weilers. It’s Carley Emerson, Brooke’s mother.” Brooke couldn’t hear what Ossa was saying, so she stepped closer, motioning for her mother to let her listen.
“I’m actually putting you on speakerphone,” her mom said and pressed the button so Brooke could hear too. It was noisy on the other end, like Ossa was driving.
“I was just about to call you,” Ossa said, her voice light.
“You were?” her mom replied and gave Brooke a shrug. “Why?”
“Detective Linly left me a message last night. She said they made contact with Jake and they want Brooke to come back in to the station today.” Brooke’s stomach twisted into a knot.
“Did they say why?” Brooke asked, barely managing to expel the words.
“They have more questions. A lot more.”
Twenty-Six
Switching Teams
Brooke stared at the dead bugs that dotted the inside of the milky light fixture above her head. There was nothing else to do while they waited for Detective Linly to join them in the interview room. It was a different room than they’d been in the day before, but aside from the color of the chairs, it looked exactly the same.
Ossa sat quietly, r
eading through some paperwork while Brooke’s mother drummed her fingers impatiently on the table. With every minute that passed, Brooke could feel the anxiety build. She took a sip of the coffee one of the uniformed officers had brought in right after they sat down, just to have something to do, before remembering that it tasted burned. Her mother threw her an admonishing look when she spit the mouthful back into the cup.
“What?” Brooke whispered. “It’s gross.”
The door opened and Detective Linly entered with a file. Ossa immediately stood to shake her hand, and so did Brooke’s mother. Brooke just remained seated.
“Ms. Weilers, Ms. Emerson,” Linly said before turning her attention to Brooke. “Thank you for coming in again.” Ossa nodded politely and sat down again. Brooke just inhaled, trying to stay calm and remember everything Ossa had coached her on the day before.
“I followed up with Jake Campali,” Linly said and adjusted the collar on her button-down shirt.
“Did you tell him I told you about taking the knife out of the dumpster?” Brooke asked bluntly. She could see the detective was surprised. Brooke supposed Linly was used to asking the questions, not answering them.
“No, I did not mention that,” she said earnestly. Brooke felt some relief. At least the cops had been smart enough not to give Jake information that could put her in danger. Brooke trusted Linly a little more, knowing she’d stuck to her word.
“There’s something else I want to tell you, but I don’t have any proof of it,” Brooke said.
Linly eyed her curiously and said, “Go ahead. You can speculate.”
“I think Jake may have been the one who beat up Tryg in the parking lot of the restaurant. He never admitted it to me, but they did sort of exchange words and Jake didn’t like him.”
“I see,” Linly said slowly. Brooke saw the detective’s gaze drop to her neck as she became lost in thought for a moment. After a few seconds, Linly scribbled something down and continued. “I can’t get a warrant to search Jake’s condo. I don’t have enough evidence, but after talking to you and Edward Shannahan, I believe Jake could have been involved in the murder.”
“Who?” Brooke asked before processing the entire sentence. She’d never even heard the name before. And wait. Did the detective just say she thinks I’m innocent?
“Edward, or Eddie, Shannahan. He was a guest at the party. Graduated from Lincoln West two years ago.” Brooke tried to picture someone from the party named Edward. She couldn’t. “He remembered seeing Jake leave the house through the back gate around two forty in the morning. He picked Jake out of a photo lineup.”
Oh my god, Brooke thought. So Jake hadn’t left when he told her he had. He’d still been there long after Brooke passed out. After the photos of Maddie were taken on her phone.
“We also found a set of fingerprints matching Jake’s in the upstairs bathroom where you claimed you found your phone. When I interviewed him, he said he never went upstairs at any time.” A wave of relief washed over Brooke. For the first time since she woke up to find Maddie dead, she felt 99 percent sure she didn’t do it.
“And that’s not enough to get a search warrant?” Brooke’s mom asked.
“There were fingerprints from twelve different individuals in that bathroom,” Linly continued. “Including Brooke’s and Riley’s and other party guests’ as well as Riley’s mother. There was also one unidentifiable handprint.”
“So what further information would you like from my client?” Ossa asked. She was pleasant but firm.
“Two things. First, will you give us permission to access your cell phone and text records? We asked Jake how many times he communicated with you that night and the next day. We’d like to see if he was truthful with us.”
Brooke felt Ossa’s hand land on her arm beneath the table. “I’m sorry, Detective. You’ll need a warrant for that.”
“If Brooke’s innocent, she has no reason to hide her phone records,” Detective Linly retorted fervently. Brooke could sense her frustration.
“And if you can’t build a case against Jake without them, you’ll have a hard time in court,” Ossa said without missing a beat.
Brooke felt for her phone tucked snugly in the pocket of her jeans. If the police really did think that having her phone records would help them find out the truth, she wanted to give them up. But she also knew she needed to trust her attorney. The most important part, though, was that Linly, without coming out and saying it, implied that Brooke was innocent. Please, please let that be true. Tell me it was someone else who killed Maddie.
“What’s the second thing?” Brooke asked.
“We think Jake might confess to you. If you’re amenable to it, I’d like to get permission for a wiretap and have you call Jake and get him talking about what happened that night.” Brooke could feel her throat tighten. Jake was smart. He’d sense something was up the moment she called.
“He won’t talk about it on the phone,” Brooke explained. “He called me this morning and I tried to get him to tell me what you guys said when you went to his house and he refused.” A heavy silence hung in the room. “He wants to see me tomorrow, though,” Brooke added. “Can we do it in person?”
“Brooke, no,” her mother said, then turned to Linly. “That’s too dangerous, isn’t it? She can’t be alone with him.”
“I agree,” Ossa said. “We can try the wiretap but nothing in person.”
“But I’m telling you,” Brooke replied adamantly, “the wiretap will be worthless. I think I can get him to tell me in person. In a place where he feels safe. Like his condo.”
“No!” her mother said. “You’re not doing it!”
Ossa leaned forward and made a calming motion with her hands, as if she were delicately patting the head of two invisible cats standing on the table. “Detective, can I have a moment with my client, please? In confidence.” Linly gave Brooke an approving look before turning off the recorder and standing up. She walked out without saying more.
“Brooke, listen. Being alone with Jake could be dangerous. You don’t have to do it. They can’t make you do it. It’s on them to build a case. If they can’t accomplish that without putting you in harm’s way, then it’s their problem. Not yours.”
“I need to know I didn’t do this. And the only way to be sure is to find out who did. If that person is Jake, I want him in jail.”
Ossa responded, “There are other ways—”
Brooke interrupted. “If I hadn’t brought Jake to that party, Maddie might still be alive. I have to do whatever I can to make sure they catch her killer. If I don’t, I’m going to have to live with knowing I didn’t try hard enough. I have to do it. For myself.” Brooke looked from Ossa to her mother, searching their eyes. She needed them to understand that this was the only choice she’d be able to live with. If Jake figured out she’d colluded with the police and hurt or killed her, that was a risk she was willing to take.
No one spoke for what felt like minutes. Finally, her mother asked, “Is there a way for them to make that safer? Maybe meet someplace in public where the police can be close by and stop him if he tries to hurt her?”
“Mom, thank you,” Brooke said, grateful that she had her mother’s support. Her mother just looked back at the attorney.
“We can ask,” Ossa said. She turned to the mirror. “Detective, you can come back in, please.” For the first time, Brooke realized it was one of those two-way mirrors they always had on police shows.
A moment later, the door opened and Detective Linly returned. She sat down, expectant.
“If there’s a way to mitigate the danger my client could face, for example, meet in public with plainclothes officers nearby, and make sure the wire is not on her person, we’re open to discussing it.”
Linly nodded, satisfied. “Yes, of course. We have a few friendly restaurants where we can do that.”
“You can have copies of my cell records too,” Brooke said, eager for Linly to know she was willing to do whatever i
t took to help.
“Brooke, no,” Ossa replied, adamant. She appreciated Ossa wanting to protect her, but she needed to make her lawyer understand.
“If it helps them build their case against Jake—”
“If you get a confession from him in the meeting, then they’ll have enough to subpoena his phone records. They won’t need yours.” There was a finality in Ossa’s voice that told Brooke there would be no more discussion.
Brooke glanced over at the detective, who ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated.
“Okay,” Brooke agreed, almost contrite.
“Sit tight,” Detective Linly said and stood. “I want to bring Detective Meyers in on this as well. Be right back.”
“Detective?” Ossa stopped her. Linly paused, her hand on the door. “When do you want to do this?”
“Tomorrow.”
Brooke stood behind her mother as she slid her shiny new key into the recently replaced lock on the front door and twisted. A slow, methodical beep began to sound, one of the many features of their security system. That’s annoying, Brooke thought as she shut the door and the beeping stopped. Not just the beeps, the whole security thing. It did make her feel safer, though, especially after her mother flipped the lock, punched in the code, and pressed the green button, arming the house like Fort Knox.
“How’d it go?” Alex stepped into the living room, catching them as they took off their jackets.
“My daughter’s decided to be part of a sting operation,” Brooke’s mother said with a hint of resentment in her voice.
“Huh?”
“They think Jake killed Maddie. They caught him lying and believe I may be able to get a confession from him.” As Brooke explained it, she felt important that the cops needed her help. And glad that they thought she was innocent.
“How are you going to do that?” Alex asked, knitting his brow.
“She’s going to meet him at a restaurant and hope he doesn’t figure out what she’s doing.”
Murdered at 17 Page 19