“All right,” he says, turning to look at me. “If you think it will be worthwhile, I’ll go with you to talk to him.”
“Thank you,” I say. I release the words without frills or further explanation, but…gratitude is all I have right now.
He just nods, drying his hands with the dish towel that’s hanging on the oven handle. “I’m going to bed,” he says. “Night.” He doesn’t wait for my response; he just strolls casually out of the kitchen, disappearing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.
But I stay where I am for quite a while longer. I stare at the Murder Board on the refrigerator. The list of names is still small:
Hailey/Betty One
Bethany/Betty Two
Nessa/Betty Three
Gus Flanders
According to Aiden, the Betties are the women we saw out near Solomon the Spud on the night we saw Sandra’s body. They apparently didn’t like Sandy, and they were being sketchy that night; that was enough for us to add them to the list.
Now, though, I find myself thinking further about the situation. I hesitate for a second, biting my lip. Then I grab the dry erase marker and add three names to the list:
Lionel Astor
Thomas Freese
Cam Verido
I’m grasping at straws; I know that. But it’s not impossible that Sandra was killed because she was going to tell me about my parents, and that means that anyone who might be my father should be up here. My eyes linger on the nameLionel Astorespecially; I’ve got to imagine someone running for governor wouldn’t be happy about an illegitimate daughter coming out of the woodwork.
I shake my head, laughing weakly. I’m being stupid. Of course I am. Like I said, this isn’t a detective show. Huge, dark conspiracies don’t happen in sleepy little towns like Autumn Grove. Besides, how would any of these men have known Sandra anyway?
But when I fall into bed later that night, it takes hours for me to fall asleep. I pull out my phone and find the picture I took of the photo from the yearbook, my mother and her friends. They’re all smiling—some at the camera, some at her.
Where are these boys now, with their black-and-white smiles and laughing eyes?
Could one of them really be my father?
And why would that information be worth killing over?
13
IN WHICH JUNIPER MAKES A HOUSE CALL
School starts again.
The students return from break.
But one student does not.
I follow Aiden around the kitchen as he talks to the sheriff on the phone, craning my neck so that I can keep my ear as close to the receiver as possible. From what it sounds like…
“She texted her mom and told her she wants to extend her visit?” I say, incredulous, seconds after Aiden hangs up.
He nods, looking just as frustrated as I feel. “After chewing me out for asking so many questions—”
“I heard that,” I say with a wince.
“Garrity said Sandra has been sending her mother updates, pictures of herself at the colleges included, and she supposedly even told her mother she would be arriving home a few days later than they’d originally planned.”
“Pictures of her at the schools?” I say, my mind whirling.