And by the way, I didn’t kill her.
CLINE: Why don’t we fill in the gap between school and going to Jamie’s place?
CLAUDE: Track meet, check in with Garson. Dinner, check in with mom. We ate at Red Runner. After dinner, I drove.
CLINE: To the party?
CLAUDE: What? Yeah, I spent a little while at the party. But I drove. I like to drive. I took Janine out and I drove on Highway 7. It’s safer than the town road, it has reception most of the year, it never floods. It smells like pine and woodsmoke. I’m closer to the peaks and the Milky Way. The Universe, God, whatever you call it . . . I’m closer to her, too. I just . . . needed it, last night. To calm myself down.
Seems sketchy, doesn’t it?
CLINE: We’re only trying to establish a timeline.
CLAUDE: I stopped at a gas station around one in the morning. The Bradley near Allenstown. Check it. Check their surveillance, their receipts . . . seriously.
CLINE: We’ll take a look if we think it’s relevant.
CLAUDE: I mean it. I was there and I can prove it. I’m not a liar and I don’t kill girls.
CLINE: Claude, I’d like you to calm down again—
CLAUDE: Fuck that. Fuck it. I’ll be as angry as I want. I didn’t do anything, and you’re wasting my time and yours with this ridiculous questioning. So if you don’t have any evidence, I’m out.
That’s what I thought. Nice talking to you.
YOUR NEWS FEED
December 6, 2018
What are your friends saying?
Lyla Ionescu: Emma, you were a bright light in this world, a fun dance partner, the smartest girl at school, and so kind. I know every single person at JLH will mourn you. I will remember the long bus trips to competitions, stuffing our faces with fries and shakes at the Morning House after a hard practice at the gym, and the fry attack will always be one of my favorite memories.
A source very close to the investigation has told me that the police are considering that the video might be a hoax. Like??? Poor Emma is relying on them to find whoever pushed her, and they can’t be bothered? They’re just interviewing every JLH student like we all might have something to do with it? This is such a joke, like even I know where I would start. Seriously guys, round up every tall hobo in town and figure this out!! #EvenICouldDoThat #JusticeForEmma
Samantha Johnson: PREACH
Ben Nakayama: RIP Emma :(
Shay Brayden: ikr?
Natalie Powell: wtf lyla she never came to the Morning
House with us she wasnt even there for the fry attack
Shay Brayden: RIP Emma I know u are up there looking down on us, pls let the police find the sicko who did this!!! #JusticeForEmma
Samantha Johnson: WHERE WILL THIS END? We can’t even value girls enough to get our asses in gear when one of them is FILMED being MURDERED?!?!?!?! We must start valuing the lives of our women and demand EQUAL JUSTICE FOR ALL #JUSTICEFOREMMA
James Schill: We will miss u Emma #RIP #JusticeForEmma
Kyle Landry: yeah but the important ? is who am I gonna crib my math homework off now? #thesearetherealquestions
Steven Bulowski: Gwen?
Kyle Landry: no way man shes fuckn scary
Ben Nakayama: #toosoon
Michael Bryson: #JusticeForEmma cmon dudes get your heads out your asses
Avery Cross: Emma, I won’t cry because it’s over, I’ll smile because it happened. But I stand with anyone who wants #JusticeForEmma and I’m willing to help in any way I can.
Michael Bryson: so sorry babe your the best
Jefferson-Lorne Inquirer: We are currently considering op-ed submissions concerning Emma Baines’s case and the decision of the police to ignore, for now, the Facebook video that went viral and alerted the town of Jefferson-Lorne to her disappearance. Please keep submissions tasteful. #JusticeForEmma
Lyla Ionescu: @Gwendolyn Sayer surely you’ll trade an opinion for extra credit . . .
10
Pretty Vultures
Rumors rush.
They sweep the streets, filling up the gutters like a flash flood of gossip. They wash through the parking lot of the dead girl’s high school in a susurration of whispers—Did you know? Wasn’t she—? The river of grief runs wide, but it is the undercurrent of curiosity that will pull them all under.
It is a crisp day, the kind that comes and goes in a mountain town. Soon it will snow, promising the patronage of fake-tan businessmen and their freshly waxed skis; tomorrow it will be like summer again. Nature here is fickle, playing nice before it strikes with a storm or a drought or a wildfire.
The cheer team sits at a table next to a spindly pine tree, all in black in honor of their fallen comrade. They watch the clouds roll in and drink up the last of their lunch period. Behind them the yellow bricks of Jefferson-Lorne loom.
The whispers whorl and spin around this table, afraid to stop and dip in. The squad meets any attempt of rumormongering with glares and sniffles about respect. But beneath their somber expressions, the curiosity bites, perhaps harder than for anyone else.
Lyla places a hand over her heart as she recounts the story of her gym fight with Gwen. “I have never seen that level of disrespect for another human being,” she swears. “How cold does a bitch have to be, not to get the bigger picture when somebody dies?”
“I wish Mr. Darrow hadn’t left. He would have stepped in.” Avery sits next to Lyla. She traded the morning’s pink sweater for a black hoodie, and she pulls the sleeves down over her hands before propping her elbows on the table. Her boyfriend, Michael, slides closer on her other side, until their thighs touch on the bench.
“I’m glad he did. I think Gwen got herself a nice arm injury.” Lyla shakes her head, still offended by Gwen’s existence.
“Why is she like that?” asks Natalie around a bite of Caesar salad. Only Natalie keeps eating salad in the dead of winter. The rest warm themselves on pumpkin and butternut squash soup heated in the cafeteria microwave.
“She’s a classic sociopath.” Lyla pushes an imaginary pair of glasses back up her nose, a sure sign that she’s about to start talking out of her ass. Her dad’s a detective with a two-year degree in psychology that Lyla likes to appropriate as often as she can get away with it. “Remember, you know—Lizzy? They told Gwen to take as much time as she needed mourning. And how many days do you think she took? None. Zero. She hit all of her extracurriculars. She didn’t even skip mathletes that week.” She leans back and puffs a cold breath into the air. “Besides, she’s got motive, more than anyone else. She fits as a killer.”
The rest of the table leans in, drinking up Lyla’s words. Avery toys with her own lunch, a can of Monster Michael smuggled in for her. “She’s not a sociopath; she just needs to deal with things differently than we do. Maybe we shouldn’t judge people we don’t know very well.”
“Aves.” Lyla throws an arm around Avery’s waist, ignoring the other girl’s slight flinch. “You know I love you, right? And I love you because you always believe the best of people. It’s, like, your superpower. You’re that good at it. But Gwen’s not good people. She’s a total cutthroat and I can one hundred and fifty percent believe she murdered Emma to get rid of the competition. Girl has a dark streak. Runs in the family, I think.”