‘protecting’ people these days.”
When she started to get in the car, my patience officially ran out. There were all kinds of feelings running through me now, but none of them stopped me from grabbing that car door and holding on to keep her from pulling it closed. I think it took Nigella by surprise. I’d kind of surprised myself,for that matter.
“What the hell?” she said. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to step off—”
“Let me put this another way,” I interrupted. I was on aroll now, no stopping. “In about thirty seconds, you’re going to have half a dozen federal agents out here, all of them wanting to speak with you. If
I
were stoned, I’d want to be ready for something like that.”
“Whut?
” one of theboys grunted out. The other one looked around nervously.
But Nigella stayed icy. “Who said anything about stoned?” she asked, meeting my gaze.
I didn’t want any trouble here. Not the wrong kind, anyway, and I was this close to saying a thing or two I might have regretted. Lucky for me, I could just see Keats and a few others rounding the corner.
And I was starting to think that a little buzzkillwas exactly what this girl needed.
CHAPTER 35
TO MAKE THINGS worse—much worse—Nigella Wilbur refused to let us examine her phone. Ironically, the school could (and did) take it away, but we weren’t allowed to touch it without her permission, unless we could get a warrant or parental consent. And her mother was still a good half hour away.
Right now, the phone was sitting in a drawer in the principal’s office, which was just aswell. Given what we knew about the app’s listening capabilities, we couldn’t afford to interview Nigella anywhere near that thing. So we holed up with her in the detention room, appropriately enough.
“This is extreme bullshit,” she said for the fourth time. “You can’t intimidate me.”
“We’re not trying to intimidate you,” Keats said. “We’re trying to protect you.”
I could tell he was strainingfor patience. The longer this conversation went on, the colder our trail was getting.
“We’re also trying to protect whoever else might be at risk,” Keats went on.
“By illegally tapping my phone?” Nigella asked.
“That’s not what happened,” Keats tried again. “If you’d just listen—”
“Save it,” she said. “I’m not interested in enabling your right-wing NSA crap. This is exactly why people likeme don’t trust people like you. Don’t you see that?”
Ironically, she had a grain of a point in all this. I had plenty of friends of my own whose trust of American law enforcement was at an all-time low, for reasons I could understand, if not agree with. But by the same token, a lot of that knee-jerk resistance was based on equal parts information and misinformation.
In any case, we seemed tobe at a kind of standstill.
Billy took a beat. Then another. I could just see the gears turning in his mind and wondered if he was trying to use the silence to make Nigella uncomfortable. But as it turned out, it wasn’t that at all.
“Angela,” he said, “tell Nigella about your first night on this case, will you?”
“Excuse me?” I wasn’t expecting him to pivot like that, but now they were bothlooking at me.
“Tell her what you saw in the house that night in Lincoln,” Keats said. “All of it.”
So far, he hadn’t disclosed any details about the other murders. For a second, I was shocked that he’d go there. But then I realized where he was taking this—and why. Every minute counted right now, and he was pulling out all the stops.
I took another few beats to gather the memory of that nightin my mind. The bodies. The dried blood. The smell.
Then I started talking.
“It was my first crime scene,” I told her. “And the first dead bodies I’d ever seen, too.”
Nigella stood up right away. Her chair tilted back and crashedonto the floor. “Are you kidding me with this? I don’t have to
When she started to get in the car, my patience officially ran out. There were all kinds of feelings running through me now, but none of them stopped me from grabbing that car door and holding on to keep her from pulling it closed. I think it took Nigella by surprise. I’d kind of surprised myself,for that matter.
“What the hell?” she said. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to step off—”
“Let me put this another way,” I interrupted. I was on aroll now, no stopping. “In about thirty seconds, you’re going to have half a dozen federal agents out here, all of them wanting to speak with you. If
I
were stoned, I’d want to be ready for something like that.”
“Whut?
” one of theboys grunted out. The other one looked around nervously.
But Nigella stayed icy. “Who said anything about stoned?” she asked, meeting my gaze.
I didn’t want any trouble here. Not the wrong kind, anyway, and I was this close to saying a thing or two I might have regretted. Lucky for me, I could just see Keats and a few others rounding the corner.
And I was starting to think that a little buzzkillwas exactly what this girl needed.
CHAPTER 35
TO MAKE THINGS worse—much worse—Nigella Wilbur refused to let us examine her phone. Ironically, the school could (and did) take it away, but we weren’t allowed to touch it without her permission, unless we could get a warrant or parental consent. And her mother was still a good half hour away.
Right now, the phone was sitting in a drawer in the principal’s office, which was just aswell. Given what we knew about the app’s listening capabilities, we couldn’t afford to interview Nigella anywhere near that thing. So we holed up with her in the detention room, appropriately enough.
“This is extreme bullshit,” she said for the fourth time. “You can’t intimidate me.”
“We’re not trying to intimidate you,” Keats said. “We’re trying to protect you.”
I could tell he was strainingfor patience. The longer this conversation went on, the colder our trail was getting.
“We’re also trying to protect whoever else might be at risk,” Keats went on.
“By illegally tapping my phone?” Nigella asked.
“That’s not what happened,” Keats tried again. “If you’d just listen—”
“Save it,” she said. “I’m not interested in enabling your right-wing NSA crap. This is exactly why people likeme don’t trust people like you. Don’t you see that?”
Ironically, she had a grain of a point in all this. I had plenty of friends of my own whose trust of American law enforcement was at an all-time low, for reasons I could understand, if not agree with. But by the same token, a lot of that knee-jerk resistance was based on equal parts information and misinformation.
In any case, we seemed tobe at a kind of standstill.
Billy took a beat. Then another. I could just see the gears turning in his mind and wondered if he was trying to use the silence to make Nigella uncomfortable. But as it turned out, it wasn’t that at all.
“Angela,” he said, “tell Nigella about your first night on this case, will you?”
“Excuse me?” I wasn’t expecting him to pivot like that, but now they were bothlooking at me.
“Tell her what you saw in the house that night in Lincoln,” Keats said. “All of it.”
So far, he hadn’t disclosed any details about the other murders. For a second, I was shocked that he’d go there. But then I realized where he was taking this—and why. Every minute counted right now, and he was pulling out all the stops.
I took another few beats to gather the memory of that nightin my mind. The bodies. The dried blood. The smell.
Then I started talking.
“It was my first crime scene,” I told her. “And the first dead bodies I’d ever seen, too.”
Nigella stood up right away. Her chair tilted back and crashedonto the floor. “Are you kidding me with this? I don’t have to
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