Horror claimed Tori’s expression. “How could you ask that? Of course not!”
“But there’s something you’re not telling me, Tori. Something that’s bothering you. It feels to me like you’re battling some amount of culpability.”
Since hitting fourteen, Tori had become more secretive. It was normal. Kerri understood this. Until this year, she had known all Tori’s friends—girls and boys—her daughter had gone to school with since kindergarten. But everything was different now. After elementary more kids had merged into the private school Tori had attended her entire academic life. There were a lot of new names and faces.
Kerri and her sister had gone to public school. Diana’s kids did. But Tori’s father had insisted their one and only child would go to private school. To the same one he had attended. Funny how that fancy school hadn’t done one damned thing for his moral code, or perhaps he had missed that part. Either way, Tori was happy there. Her friends were there. The one good thing her ex had done in the divorce was agree to pay the tuition until Tori graduated. The concession was not for Kerri’s benefit or even for Tori’s. It was for his own. Nick couldn’t have his child attending public school. Even one he had abandoned emotionally and geographically.
“I told the police the truth,” Tori said, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened. One second we were all standing there, and the next Brendal was falling down the stairs.”
Her voice shook on the last word. She swiped at her eyes.
Kerri gave her a moment to compose herself. “Your new friend, Alice . . . do you like her? I mean, really like her the way you do Sarah?”
A shrug lifted one thin shoulder. “I guess. Sarah and I have been friends forever, so it’s hard to say that I like Alice the same. I haven’t known her that long. She’s pretty and smart, but she doesn’t make friends easy. She likes being the center of attention. That turns a lot of people off.”
Unquestionably. “So, she isn’t shy?”
Another of those noncommittal shrugs. “She’s just, you know, different.”
Brighton was particularly well known for its diversity. Kerri couldn’t see the difficulty Alice had making friends as being related to her ethnicity. “Different how?”
“She’s bossy, sort of.”
A new student coming in with a bossy attitude would certainly turn most students off. “Bossy how?”
Tori heaved a big sigh. “How do you think? She likes to tell people what to do. She says she’s a princess.” Her lips bit together, and her eyes widened.
Obviously, she’d told Kerri more than she’d intended. “A princess?”
Tori moistened her lips. “That’s supposed to be a secret. I wasn’t supposed to tell.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Kerri promised. “Whatever you tell me will stay between us as long as it has no bearing on what happened. I have—we both have an obligation to share anything that relates to what happened to Brendal.”
Tori fingered the edge of her laptop. “Alice said she was born to rule, but that something happened and changed everything. That’s why she was sent here. Away from her home until the trouble is over. The story about her parents being dead is like a cover story. Her parents are dead, but they died a long time ago. She was sent here for protection from whatever is happening back in Mexico.”
Kerri nodded. “Anything is possible. Sometimes, though, people make up alternative stories when the real one is too painful.”
“I think maybe that’s what she’s doing.” Tori’s gaze met her mother’s. “I didn’t really believe her story about being a princess.”
Kerri waited for Tori to go on, but she looked away instead. “You and Sarah have spent the night with her a few times.” Now that Kerri thought about it, a couple of months had passed since the last time. Alice had never come to their house for a sleepover. Kerri had no idea if she’d gone to Sarah’s.
“Her house is kind of creepy.” Tori chewed her lower lip a second before going on. “I don’t like going there. I think Sarah has gone a couple times when I didn’t.”
“It’s a nice neighborhood.” Kerri made it a point to familiarize herself with the homes and neighborhoods of her daughter’s friends if going to the home came up.
“It’s not that. The house is pretty and all, but it’s creepy inside.”
“Creepy how?” This was news.
“There’s all this religious stuff. Her aunt and uncle are deep into it.”
“That made you uncomfortable?” This was the South. Most folks went to church. Tori had gone to church with Sarah several times. Diana had crosses and at least one picture depicting Jesus in her house.
Tori nodded. “It’s just different. Can we please not talk about this anymore?”
“Okay. For now. But I need you to think over those moments before Brendal fell and tell me anything at all you remember that’s different from what you’ve told me so far. Detectives Sykes and Peterson will be talking to you again. Count on it.”
Shrug number three. “’kay.”
“I’ll go work on dinner.” Kerri stood. “Feel free to come and help.”
Kerri left the door open to emphasize her invitation as she headed downstairs. She had always trusted her daughter. Tori wasn’t one to keep things from her. Only that once when she’d kept quiet about the man harassing Amelia. Kerri couldn’t believe she would hold back anything important ever again. Not after losing Amelia. The loss was still fresh in all their hearts.
But she wasn’t foolish enough to believe her daughter might never make the same mistake again.
In the kitchen, she browsed the pantry offerings for inspiration. She really, really needed to do some shopping. Maybe she would try one of the online delivery services that were so popular now. Or maybe the pickup option. Diana raved about both. Kerri’s cell vibrated. She dragged it from her pocket. Falco.
Her thoughts instantly shifted to their case. “Hey. Any revelations from Cross?”
Kerri supposed it was possible Walsh had zeroed in on Cross, since she’d worked all those years undercover going after the big drug runners. Whatever the case, she was holding back just how well acquainted she was with the DDA.
“I haven’t been able to track her down,” Falco said, frustration simmering in his voice. “She’s not home and not answering her cell. Maybe she’s tied up. She doesn’t usually ignore my calls. I’ll keep trying.”
Kerri’s first instinct was to assume the woman was avoiding them, but she pushed the conclusion aside. Reminded herself that she owed Cross the benefit of the doubt. “You think she has reason to not want to talk to us?”
A couple of seconds of weighty silence passed between them.
“Yeah. I do. Knowing Cross, she’s conducting her own investigation into Walsh’s death, and she doesn’t want us involved.”
“She was a cop for too many years not to understand how unproductive that would be.” Kerri was all too aware of how truly ineffectual and dangerous choosing that route could be.
“Maybe there was something between her and Walsh. Maybe it’s personal.”