Kerri squeezed her daughter’s hand. “If you’re not certain,” she said carefully, “then you shouldn’t say one way or the other. What did you tell Detective Peterson and Mrs. Leary?”
“I told them the same thing I told you. I don’t know who pushed her or if anyone did. I was watching Brendal’s rant, and suddenly she was going backward. Her back was to the steps going down. Maybe she backed up or leaned the wrong way and lost her balance. Maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault.”
Kerri nodded, mostly for her daughter’s benefit. “That’s possible. There wasn’t anyone else in the halls? A teacher or another student who might have seen something?”
Tori moved her head side to side. “The bell had already rung.”
Not the answer she’d hoped for. Kerri tried to think of any other possibilities. Janitor? Librarian? Another student late for class? But why wouldn’t they have come forward?
Because there was no one else. Kerri felt the additional weight settle on her shoulders.
“What’s going to happen now?” The fear in Tori’s eyes twisted Kerri’s emotions to the snapping point.
“Stay here for a moment while I speak to the other detectives.” Kerri stood and turned toward the door.
“I just want to go home,” Tori whispered, her eyes squeezing shut against the new flood of tears.
“I’ll take you home as soon as I can,” Kerri promised.
She stepped out of Leary’s office, closing the door behind her. Sykes, Peterson, and Leary were crowded into the tiny waiting room. No doubt straining to hear through the wall.
“Did she tell you anything?” Sykes wanted to know.
Kerri shook her head. “She didn’t see what triggered the fall. She was looking directly at Brendal, and suddenly she was tumbling backward.”
Peterson nodded. “That’s the story she’s stuck with from the beginning.”
Kerri wanted to tear off his head and spit down his throat. “Have you considered she might be sticking with it because it’s the truth?”
Sykes held up a hand before Peterson could spout whatever had his face turning an unpleasant shade of reddish purple. “The trouble is, Devlin,” he said in a weary voice, “that’s what all three of them are saying. Having one girl not be sure is to be expected, but all three?”
The knot reappeared in her gut. “Sarah and Alice have already been interviewed as well?”
Sykes nodded. “Mrs. Talley was in a PTA meeting in the cafeteria. The Cortez girl’s guardian came immediately when we called. You’re the only one we had trouble reaching.”
“Funny,” Kerri tossed back at him, “I don’t have any missed calls from you.”
Sykes and Peterson exchanged a glance; then both men shrugged.
Didn’t matter. Kerri knew exactly what had happened. Or, more accurately, what hadn’t happened. “So, Tori was the only one questioned without a parent or legal representation present?”
Sykes and Peterson shared another look.
“I am so sorry,” Leary said. “Detective Sykes—”
Kerri held up a hand to the other woman. “I’m aware of what happened.” She turned to Sykes. “You have my daughter’s statement. I’m taking her home.”
Sykes and Peterson started to argue. Kerri ignored them. Before she walked away, another thought occurred to her, and she turned to Leary once more. “This is one of the premier private schools in the state. Sending my daughter here costs a lot of money. Are there no cameras in the halls?”
A new kind of outrage roared through Kerri. This should not have happened, but since it had, where had all the teachers been? Had no one been watching four girls who were obviously late for their next class? One of whom was yelling at the others? And there were cameras. She knew this, but the realization had only just now plowed through all the emotional junk clouding her brain.
Leary seemed to struggle to find the wherewithal to answer the question. “There are cameras. Yes.”
“We’ve already reviewed the footage,” Sykes explained. “The positioning of the camera on this first floor is so that the coverage stops at the top of that first landing. All we can see are the girls’ feet. We can’t tell who did what. The camera on the second floor reaches onto that same landing but on the other side. There’s nothing useful on that footage either.”
A shroud of frustration closed in around Kerri. “We’re leaving. When you want to speak to my daughter again, you ask me first.”
She ignored the detectives’ complaints and went into the room where Tori waited. “Let’s go.”
Tori grabbed her backpack from the floor and followed her mother.
In the corridor, Mr. Foster was speaking quietly with Sarah Talley’s mother. Sarah clung to her mother like a terrified toddler. If Renae Talley noticed Kerri and Tori exiting, she gave no indication.
Kerri had no idea where the third girl, Alice Cortez, was. Maybe in the other counselor’s office. There were two available at all times.
Tori stared at Sarah, but the girl never looked her way.
“Come on.” Kerri put her arm through her daughter’s. “We’ll get this figured out.”
Outside, two uniforms were attempting to hold back the reporters who had descended on the scene like a committee of vultures desperate for the remnants of the tragedy. Kerri ushered Tori to the passenger side of her vehicle and hoped like hell the reporters didn’t capture a photo of her. She did not want Tori to be the face of this tragedy.
When they reached the street, Kerri turned right without stopping. The reporters had already surged in that direction, but she got away before they managed to reach her vehicle. As a detective Kerri had encountered most of the reporters more than once, and, unfortunately, she was the only detective who drove a vintage Jeep Wagoneer. It wouldn’t take a resourceful reporter long to figure out who had driven away in the vehicle. Even less time would be required to determine that Kerri had a daughter who attended this school.
She silently swore at herself for hanging on to this damned thing all these years.
“What do we do now?”
Tori’s voice sounded so small Kerri wanted to pull her into her arms and rock her the way she had when she was a baby. “We’re going home. Sykes and Peterson will sort this out. They’re good detectives.” She said this despite how pissed she was at the two of them just now.
Tori stared out the window. Kerri wished she could reassure her that this would be over soon, and all would be fine. But she wouldn’t lie to her daughter. It would take time, and the process would be painful. If the Myers girl died, things would get exponentially worse.
Bully or not, Kerri prayed the girl pulled through. No matter that she was mean, she didn’t deserve to die as penance. No parent should have to suffer through that kind of loss. Kerri had watched what it had done to her sister and her brother-in-law. She wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone.
Her cell vibrated and she considered ignoring it, but it could be Falco. She’d promised to call him. She fished for the phone in her pocket, checked the screen. Falco’s face flashed there as another insistent ring vibrated the device.
“I’m leaving the school now,” she said rather than hello.