Dark Turns (22 page)

P
eter sped down a curved road and blasted onto the highway. The three-lane interstate was as empty as the course in a car commercial. Claremont wasn’t known for its nightlife, and most of the commuters had already gone home.

The car smelled of body odor and adrenaline. The metallic scent added to the nausea threatening to send the scant contents of Nia’s stomach onto her lap. She cracked the window and filled her lungs with fresh air.

“What if Kelly doesn’t believe you?”

Peter shouted over the wind barreling into the car. Nia could hear the doubt in his voice. She knew he asked because he wasn’t convinced himself.

“He will.”

She couldn’t answer the question any other way. Detective Kelly had to believe her. Fortunately, given what happened with Marta, he already knew that she might have facts that the police didn’t. Kelly wouldn’t have agreed to meet on the promise of “more info about the Turek case” if he didn’t think she could help.

Peter pulled into the police station just ten minutes later. They parked in one of the many empty spaces and headed up the steps. Nia gave her name at the front desk. A policewoman said Detective Kelly was expecting them.

They followed the officer past the area with the detectives’ desks to a smaller room with stark, blank walls. Nia recognized the place from the background of too many prime-time police dramas: an interrogation room. Was that what was happening?

They each sat on aluminum chairs beside a large, blank desk. Peter grasped her hand. His palm felt moist—or hers did.

The door swung back. Detective Kelly and his partner marched inside. Detective Frank had a doughier physique than Kelly but a harder-looking face with heavy cheeks.

“So what do you have for us today, Ms. Washington?”

Kelly grabbed a metal chair from the opposite side of the desk. He placed a notepad in front of him. His partner stood nearby.

“I know that a student, Aubrey Byrne, is spoofing text messages.”

“And how do you know this?” The question came from Frank. There was an edge to his tone. Nia wasn’t sure if her nerves had made her imagine it.

“I was called into my bosses’ office earlier this evening. Aubrey accused me of sending sexual text messages that I did not send. I believe that she sent them to herself and fabricated my information in order to get me fired.”

Kelly’s bottom lip stuck out and curled. “You didn’t see her spoof the messages?”

“No. But she had to have. I didn’t send them.”

“Maybe someone else knows how to do it. You knew that messages could be spoofed . . .” Frank trailed off.

Nia understood the implication. Maybe she had committed the act, knowing she could blame it on someone else. She wondered whether the Wallace cops had already informed the state police of the allegations against her. Maybe Detective Kelly had planned to interrogate her all along.

The air felt humid. Sticky. She pulled at the sweater draped over her dress, but didn’t dare remove it. As hot as she felt, the extra layer served as armor, protecting her from Detective Frank’s accusing glare.

“She didn’t do anything.” Peter squeezed her hand. He sounded firm, angry. His tone quelled Nia’s rising panic. At least one person in the room was on her side.

“The campus officer took my phone and is giving it to Wallace police, who I’m sure will give everything to you guys. When you look at it, you’ll see my phone didn’t send those texts. Or you can get my phone records from my carrier and verify it.”

Kelly tapped a finger against his chin stubble. “Okay, then. Why do you think this Aubrey sent the messages?”

“Because she has motive.” Nia looked only at Kelly. He was more likely to trust her than Frank. After all, he’d believed her before and she’d been right. “Aubrey wants to get me fired because I know she murdered Lauren Turek.”

Kelly blinked rapidly. “Whoa. That’s a big allegation.”

“She did it.”

“How would you know that?”

Nia took them through the same argument she’d made to Peter an hour before, adding the information about Lydia’s
accident to show how Aubrey treated people who got in her way. She also explained about the photo as evidence of how carefully Aubrey planned her actions. The girl was intelligent, ruthless, calculating—and she had a motive.

“But she’s not violent,” Kelly said. “Even if she spiked this Lydia’s drink—rather than the girl, say, forgetting that she shouldn’t mix sleeping pills with alcohol—that only shows that Aubrey tried to get her to black out, maybe embarrass her. She didn’t push her down the stairs.”

Nia could imagine Aubrey doing just that. Thanks to the drugs, Lydia wouldn’t have remembered if Aubrey had led her to the staircase, perhaps under the guise of showing her the nearest bathroom, and given her a shove. But Nia could tell that neither Frank nor Kelly would buy a teen doing such a thing just to get a better part in a high school show. If they did any research on Aubrey, they would be even less likely to believe her. After paging through Aubrey’s accolades, Nia would be the one to look guilty.

“I know it’s difficult to imagine that a sixteen-year-old would kill someone just to get revenge against an ex. I know how farfetched it sounds.” Nia looked straight at Kelly. She wanted him to see the truth in her eyes. “But I also know that I did not send those text messages. And no one else has any reason to make it seem as though I did.”

Kelly and Frank exchanged a look. Nia couldn’t read it.

“Can we get a cheek swab?” Kelly asked.

“What? Why?”

“Turns out the lake didn’t destroy all the evidence,” Frank said. “There were some particles under Lauren’s nails.”

“It’s just to rule you out,” Kelly said.

The hairs stood up on the back of Nia’s neck. If police procedurals were any indication, the people detectives wanted to “rule out” were often their biggest targets. Had she made
herself a suspect by bringing them information? By finding the body?

“I was moving in all day the Saturday Lauren went missing. I spoke to some parents. I said hello to the kids.”

“Just to rule you out,” Kelly said.

Maybe it was just a test? If she didn’t say yes, the police would think she had something to hide. But if she agreed, they’d believe her. Why not agree? There was no way Aubrey could have planted her DNA under Lauren’s fingernails. She hadn’t been out to get her then.

Nia nodded. An officer with a black plastic suitcase appeared, as if on cue. She opened her mouth and let him swab the inside of her cheek with a long Q-tip.

“How about you, buddy?” Frank looked at Peter.

Her boyfriend’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, but no. Nothing against you guys. I just don’t do anything police say without consulting an attorney.”

Frank chuckled. “One of those.”

Nia swallowed the chalky taste of the cotton swab. She zeroed back in on Kelly. “I have nothing to hide, and I was right about Marta and Theo’s alibi. If I hadn’t come forward, the state attorney would still be prosecuting an innocent kid.”

She leaned over the desk, bringing her face closer to Kelly’s askew nose. “Please. You have to at least check my theory out. Aubrey must be using the same program to spoof the messages from me that she used to send that message to Lauren. If you look at the SMStealer data, you should be able to find Aubrey’s IP address. Something.”

Kelly dragged his hand over his mouth. The gesture seemed defeated. Nia braced for bad news.

“Damn company is based in Russia.” Frank spoke from the side. “They swear they don’t keep any information on a central database, and they won’t give us their logs. But they
insist that the SMStealer app stores message information that we can use—if we ever find the device that sent the text in the first place.”

Her hand fell. Peter had dropped it.

More defeated body language? Why was everyone so eager to give up? A girl was dead and Nia’s own career, maybe even her freedom, was on the line. Ballet companies constantly worked with teenagers. Children often danced small parts. They’d never hire a sex offender.

“If the info is on the device, then you have to check Aubrey’s phone. That’s how she got my number: when she sent the picture from my phone to hers. The app must be there.”

Frank’s arms folded across his barrel chest. His eyes narrowed. “If it was that easy to check a student’s phone, don’t you think we would have taken everyone’s phone at the school and checked it? We can’t just confiscate personal electronics without cause. Remember the Fourth Amendment?”

“But Aubrey sent those messages.”

“You don’t have any proof,” Frank growled.

Kelly rose from his seat. “Here’s what I can do. I’ll call over to Wallace police for your phone and make sure to have our digital forensic department take a look at it first thing Monday. We’ll inform the school right away of what we find or don’t find.”

Kelly stood and extended his hand for a shake. Nia couldn’t let things end like this.

“The school took my phone for
suspicion
of sending those texts. They didn’t have a warrant. They just had the word of a student. Can’t you do the same? Isn’t my word worth anything?”

Kelly’s hand cupped his mouth and then fell to his chin. His eyes opened wider as if trying to shine more light onto an idea in his head.

“Your word is worth something.” A finger tapped against the side of his mouth. “You told your bosses that you think Aubrey faked the text messages, right?”

“Yes. They didn’t want to hear it. But I did.”

“Well, then you made an allegation against her: fraud. And you just repeated that allegation to us,” Kelly said.

He looked at his partner. They both smiled. Kelly pointed a finger at her.

“That might be enough to get the school to give us her phone.”

N
ia dragged a half-full suitcase from her living room to her bathroom door. She hadn’t brought much stuff to Wallace, but she’d acquired a surprising amount in the past month: coffee cups, an umbrella, toiletries, a sweatshirt with the Wallace monogram on the breast. Everything that didn’t fit in her carry-on or the nearly full duffle in the corner was destined for the garbage. She wanted everything except the sweatshirt.

After talking to Detective Kelly, Nia felt certain that she would be cleared of Aubrey’s allegations. Once the police examined her call records, they’d realize that she’d only sent the photo, and Lydia could verify that Aubrey had asked her to take the picture for the yearbook.

Unfortunately, the investigation would take time. She still needed to be off Wallace’s campus by six o’clock in the afternoon.

“Is this stuff going?”

Peter’s voice echoed inside an open kitchen cabinet. Nia looked up from her bag to see his face framed by the oak interior. His skin looked sallow. He hadn’t slept well last night.

The conversation with Detective Kelly had put her more at ease, but it had made Peter jittery. He’d tossed and turned in his bed beside her, mumbling about murder.

“Why don’t you rest? I’ll clear that out.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I got it.”

Nia thought it romantic that he worried about her so much. He honestly feared for her career and that Aubrey would get away with it. It was comforting to know that someone else cared as much as she did.

She had pored over the school handbook until past two o’clock in the morning, looking for more ways that she could help the detectives demand Aubrey’s phone. The allegation she’d already made was her best bet. An accusation that a student or teacher had committed a cybercrime—such as sending sexual texts to a minor, spreading inappropriate content, or impersonating someone else—was sufficient reason to confiscate any electronic device that tapped into the school network. However, the complaint would have to be judged nonmalicious. In other words, Dean Stirk had to believe that she hadn’t made up the whole story about Aubrey in retaliation for the girl’s accusations.

Nia had faith that the dean would follow through. Above all else, Stirk cared about Wallace’s reputation. She would want to prove, without question, that she had not hired a pedophile. Though Nia’s phone records would make it clear that the messages hadn’t come from her cell and thus protect
her against legal charges, only finding the source of the texts would erase all doubt. Otherwise, Aubrey could always argue that Nia had spoofed her own messages in order to cover her tracks.

Nia squeezed the contents of her medicine chest into the front pocket of the black bag at her feet. She zipped it and then walked over to Peter in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry. They’ll see that I didn’t send those texts.” She hugged his back. “It will all come out.”

He turned around in her arms. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”

He coughed. “You know that Aubrey will make more accusations once they arrest her, right? She’ll say things about you. She might even say things about me.”

“What could she say?”

“I don’t know. But if police find that she did fake those texts from you, her back will be against the wall. She’ll say anything she can against us.”

Nia could picture Aubrey inventing a new lie about her, but she couldn’t see why the girl would target Peter. Aubrey didn’t even know him. She wasn’t in any of his classes. She probably hadn’t seen him all year, except for outside Nia’s apartment—and at the casino.

The casino! Nia finally understood.

“Are you worried because we didn’t tell the dean about taking her home that night?”

“Yeah.” His chin went up and down, a hammer hitting a nail. “I’m concerned that she’ll accuse you or me of sexual assault. She could claim that she was trying to get you because we had previously molested her after taking her home, drunk, from a nightclub.”

Nia’s mouth went dry. She forced herself to swallow the new fear. “Once the police see she sent the texts from my
number, they’ll also see that she sent that message to Lauren. No one will believe anything a murderer says.”

Peter’s shoulders sank. “I hope you’re right.”

She patted his arm and then returned to her suitcase. There was nothing else to say. She pulled the bag back into the living room and scanned the apartment. Nearly everything had been packed. Now she just had to figure out where she would bring it all.

Nia sighed. She had to call her mother.

Instinctively, she reached into her sweater pocket for her cell phone. She would say that she planned to come for a visit. The details could wait until she arrived in Queens.

Her fingers found lint. Of course her pocket was empty—the campus police had confiscated her phone.

Nia called over to Peter. “Hey, can I borrow your cell to call my mom and let her know I’m coming?”

Peter looked over his shoulder. “Uh. Sure. The password is oh-three-two-four. March twenty-fourth. My birthday.”

“Thanks.”

Nia spied the phone on the kitchen counter, beside her still-unpacked coffee maker. She would have to remember to take that.

She crossed the room into the kitchen. Before she could pick up the device, Peter grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. His nose pressed against the top of her head.

“Move in with me?”

Nia took a step back. “What?”

“Move in with me. We can get an apartment off campus while you fight this.” He forced a smile. His eyes didn’t share in it.

Nia felt a pang of guilt. Did he want to live with her because he thought she had nowhere to go?

“That’s really nice of you, but I won’t be homeless after I leave here. I can stay with my mom in Queens while the police investigate. It will be okay.”

Blond strands fell into Peter’s face. He pushed them back. “It’s not just about the case. Even if the police clear you Monday and you get your job back, we should still move in together.”

He rested his butt on the edge of her counter. His skin looked dry. Fine lines etched across his forehead. The stress made him own all of his thirty-two years.

“I’m too old to live on campus. It seemed like a good idea after my wife died, but I realize that I need a broader boundary between the students and myself. And if we lived together, Aubrey’s allegations—whatever they turn out to be—will carry less weight.”

Nia didn’t know how to answer. Part of her felt so battered that she just wanted to say yes. Yes to anything. Yes to the path of least resistance. Still, it seemed wrong moving in with someone just to undercut Aubrey’s lies. What about love or wanting to share a life?

“So you want us to get a place together so fewer people will believe Aubrey if she says we did anything to her?”

He exhaled. “No. Look. I’m stressed and I’m worried about you, so nothing I say is coming out right.” He grabbed her hand. His palm felt clammy. “I want to move in with you.”

“I won’t be at Wallace next year.” Technically, her contract ended in June. But after everything that had happened, Nia wasn’t sure that she would stay past January—if, of course, Battle even kept her on after the police cleared her phone. Her worker’s comp claim would cover continued therapy on her foot for the next several months. After that, she could start auditioning.

“We can worry about that later. There’s plenty on our plate right now.”

Nia thought of Dimitri. “Maybe we shouldn’t make any big—”

“I love you.” His throat bobbed. His eyes looked glassy. “Move in with me.”

She couldn’t say no. At least not now. Regardless of what he said, he wanted to protect her. She couldn’t repay that kindness with a refusal. Besides, she’d said she loved him. If you loved someone, why wouldn’t you move in with him?

“Okay.”

He pulled her to his chest. She buried her face in his T-shirt, and he ran his fingers through her hair. The gesture felt comforting. Normal. She could almost pretend that she’d just woken up from a bad dream.

But she hadn’t freed herself from this nightmare. She was still on Wallace’s campus and accused of sexting a minor. The police hadn’t yet cleared her phone.

And Aubrey still lived next door.