Get Dirty (12 page)

“Why would they question Mom?” Her mom worked part time at her brother-in-law’s warehouse, helping out with the accounting, but her mom wasn’t even there last night. How could she have any information the police would need?”

“Do you think they’ll arrest Mom?” Sophia asked with a disturbing amount of glee.

“Of course not,” Kitty snapped.

“But then we could be fugitives,” she continued. “On the run from the law.”

“And we’d have to change our names,” Lydia said, instantly entranced with the new role-playing game.

“And cut our hair.”

“And move to New Mexico.”

Normally, Kitty loved her sisters’ flights of imagination, but this fantasy hit a little too close to home. “Go inside,” she said, grabbing her duffel bag from the backseat. “And leave Mom alone.”

But instead of scampering into the house, the girls dashed past Kitty down the driveway. “We’re going to Yolanda’s to tell her the news,” Lydia called out.

Great.

Part of Kitty wanted to join her sisters, to be anywhere else in the world rather than in her house with a member of Menlo Park’s finest. But her best course of action was to play it cool, so she shouldered her bag and strolled leisurely into the house.

“Mom?” she said, her voice calm but with a hint of concern. “I saw Sophia and Lydia out front. Is everything okay?”

“Hello, Kitty,” said a familiar voice as she rounded the corner into the living room. Kitty felt her hands go clammy. Sergeant Callahan was standing before the fireplace, notebook in hand. “Nice to see you again.”

Nice to see me again?
Sergeant Callahan had only spoken with her once before, when the police executed a mass interrogation of students after Ronny DeStefano’s murder. He must have
interviewed dozens of students that day. Why did her remember her?

“Um, yeah,” she mumbled. “You too.”

“I’m just asking your mom some routine questions about the fire at your uncle’s warehouse last night.”

“Oh,” Kitty said. She glanced at her mom, who sat perfectly still on the sofa, her back straight as a rod, her hands neatly folded in her lap.

He smiled broadly. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

His face might have been disarmingly cheerful, but his sharp eyes were locked on to Kitty’s. Was he fishing? Or was he actually suspicious of her?

She fought the urge to look away. “No, I don’t.”

His smile deepened. “I didn’t think you would have anything to share with me.”

Something in the tone, the forced lightness and the choice of words, put Kitty immediately on alert. “I’ve got some classmates coming over,” she said, turning to her mother. She desperately wanted to get out of that room. “To work on a school project. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” her mom said with a faint smile. “Dinner will be at seven. Let me know if they’re going to join us.”

“I won’t keep you long, Mrs. Wei.”

Sergeant Callahan remained silent until Kitty entered her room at the end of the hall. Not that she had any intention of staying there. She closed her door loud enough that the police officer would think she was safely out of earshot, then as silently
as she could, Kitty slipped through the bathroom that joined her room to her sisters’ and crept to the door and listened. It was crucial that she find out what Sergeant Callahan knew.

“And you have no idea who might have had a grudge against your brother-in-law or his business?”

“He designs and imports custom furniture,” Kitty’s mom said, a hint of derision in her voice. “Not methamphetamines.”

“Disgruntled customer?” Sergeant Callahan prodded. “Former employee?”

“Nothing I can think of.”

Sergeant Callahan paused, and Kitty could picture him scribbling in his ever-present notebook. “Anything I should know about the company’s finances?” he asked at last.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Were you in debt? Was your brother-in-law in danger of losing the business?”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Wei snapped.

“I’ll need to see the company files,” he continued. “I’m sure you keep a backup somewhere?”

“Yes.” Kitty heard the sofa creak as her mom shifted in her seat. “At the warehouse.”

“How convenient.”

Kitty gritted her teeth. She didn’t like the sarcasm she heard in Sergeant Callahan’s voice.

“Are you implying that my brother-in-law set this fire on purpose?” Mrs. Wei asked, cutting to the chase.

“I’m not implying anything,” Sergeant Callahan said drily. “But your brother carried rather hefty insurance on his business,
and the arson investigator found traces of a known accelerant at the scene.”

“Which means?”

“Which means the fire was no accident.” Kitty heard the door open. “Good day, Mrs. Wei.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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“SO NICE OF YOU TO ARRANGE A POLICE RECEPTION FOR US
at your house today,” Ed said, the moment he was settled into the desk chair in Kitty’s bedroom. The last thing he’d expected to see at the Wei residence was Sergeant Callahan leaving the house.

Olivia pulled her legs up on the bed, crossing them. “Is everything okay?”

Kitty nodded. “He was questioning my mom about the warehouse fire. They think my uncle set it on purpose.”

“Oh, no,” Olivia said.

Ed whistled. “Aggravated arson carries a minimum sentence of ten years, plus he’d be in violation of his insurance policy.”

Kitty winced. “Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

“And I think maybe he suspects me,” Kitty continued, her eyebrows pinched together.

Olivia gasped. “Of starting the fire? Of being DGM? Of killing Ronny and Coach Creed and—”

“I’m not sure,” Kitty said sharply, interrupting the panicked
rant. “It seemed like he knows I’m hiding something. Just a feeling, really.”

Ed straightened up in his chair. Kitty thought that Sergeant Callahan might be on to her? “If he really thought you were involved,” Ed said dismissively, “don’t you think he’d just haul you in for questioning?”

“I guess.”

Ed forced a laugh. “This is a murder investigation, with some arson thrown in for shits and giggles. I don’t think he’d dance around the issue.”

“Maybe.” Kitty looked less than convinced. “Let’s just get started, okay?”

“Okay,” Ed said, thankful to be changing the subject. “I have something that might cheer you up. I made a little visit to the Hayward Sanitation Plant this afternoon. Got to see our old pal Xavier at work.”

“How was it?” Kitty asked.

“Amazing. He literally monitors shit.” Ed sighed. “It might have been the best moment of my young life.”

“I mean,” Kitty said, “did you learn anything? Could he be behind all this?”

“I didn’t get a chance to initiate contact,” Ed said. “But I did follow him home. He lives with his mother, which is a point in favor of him being a serial killer.”

Kitty turned to Olivia. “Maybe you can follow up? Xavier might be receptive to your, um, approach.”

“I guess I can try,” Olivia said with a heavy sigh. “I’ve already
been eye-molested by Maxwell Gertler today. How much worse could it be?”

“You visited the Gertlers?” Kitty asked.

Ed watched Olivia closely.

“Yes!” she cried, and sat up straight, her energy revitalized. “I was talking to Logan in drama class, and he thinks he saw the Gertlers in the theater opening night.”

“Is he sure it was them?” There was desperation in Kitty’s voice.

“I think so,” Olivia said. “It’s hard to say with the stage lights, but they work at the surf shop where he gets his board waxed and—”

Ed smirked. “Dirty.”

“And he was pretty sure it was them,” Olivia said, ignoring him. “When I brought it up they denied being there, but they were super shifty about it.”

“Great,” Kitty said. “That’s another possible suspect. But I think we can definitely cross Wendy Marshall off that list.”

“You talked to her?” Olivia asked.

“I accidentally,” Kitty said, using air quotes, “ran into her at the gym. Apparently she’s selling LARP fan fiction online now. Something like a hundred thousand downloads.”

Ed cocked his head. “Is she single?”

“You’re not her type,” Kitty countered.

“If she spends a few years in prison for murder,” Ed said, flashing a finger pistol, “I might be.”

“Prison . . . ,” Olivia repeated slowly, as if the word triggered
a memory. Then she sucked in a breath. “Oh my God! I forgot to tell you. Bree’s out of juvie!”

“What?” Ed and Kitty said together.

“She’s under house arrest, but she’s out. So that’s good, right?”

Kitty sank back against the bed. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“And how did you come by this information?” Ed asked.

Olivia smiled sheepishly. “Promise you won’t be mad.”

“Mad?” Kitty said.

“John’s helping me figure out what Amber was doing with Ronny the night he was killed.”

“Ah, yes,” Ed said slowly. “Amber’s got her panties in a wad over John Baggott. Bree’s going to be thrilled. I should start taking odds on that catfight ASAP.”

Olivia slugged Ed in the arm. “This is serious.”

“It sure is,” Kitty said, narrowing her eyes. “You told John about Amber and Ronny?”

“Wasn’t he a suspect like a week ago?” Ed asked.

“Bree trusts him,” Olivia said. “Enough to have him make contact with us. I thought that was a good enough reason to swear him into DGM.”

Ed laughed. “Awesome. I was getting tired of being the only penis around here.”

Kitty narrowed her eyes. “You may not be the only penis, but you’ll still be the only dick.”

Ed dipped his head in approval. “Touché.”

“But I have even better news,” Olivia said, clasping her hands together.

“You do?” Kitty asked.

“I snagged Rex’s phone yesterday during gym.” Olivia spoke quickly. “He and Christopher Beeman had some kind of romantic encounter back in sixth grade.”

“Like the one Christopher mentioned in his emails with Ronny?”

“Exactly like that,” Olivia said.

“Rex Cavanaugh.” Ed snorted. “The biggest assholes are always hiding the biggest secrets.”

Kitty chewed on her lip. “So Ronny found out that it was Rex and blackmailed him.”

“Exactly,” Olivia said. “And I’m pretty sure Amber was trying to buy Ronny’s silence the night he was killed.”

“With what?” Ed asked. “Cash? Stock options?” He pumped his eyebrows. “Sexual favors?”

Olivia wrinkled her nose, clearly disgusted. “With one of her dad’s Rolex watches.”

“I’m sorry.” Ed cupped his hand behind his ear. “Did you say ‘one of’?”

“Yep.”

Ed leaned forward. “And is
she
single?”

Kitty stood up and began to pace in front of the table. “Ed, if Amber gave you a thousand-dollar watch—”

Ed snorted. “Try ten thousand.”

Olivia’s eyes grew wide. “That much?”

“That much.”

“Damn.”

“Okay,” Kitty said with a deep breath. “If Amber gave you a
ten-thousand-dollar watch, what would you do with it?”

“Strap it to my wrist and never take it off until my dying breath,” Ed said without hesitation.

“Exactly.” She chewed on her lip again. “Does anyone remember the crime scene photos Margot showed us?”

“Margot hacked into the Menlo PD crime lab database?” Ed asked. He knew she was good, but not that good.

Olivia nodded, her face suddenly pale. “We saw . . .” She swallowed. “The body.”

“I wish Margot was here,” Kitty said. “We need to see those photos.”

“Pshaw,” Ed said. He pushed himself out of his chair and pulled his tablet from his backpack. Margot wasn’t the only one with mad hacker skills.

“Do you think you can?” Kitty asked.

Instead of answering, Ed propped his tablet up on Kitty’s desk and unrolled a flat wireless keyboard. Then he went to work, the girls gathering around him, peering down at the screen. In a matter of minutes, he had the crime lab’s database open, all of their open cases labeled by victim and date. His eyes flitted over the list, pausing for a split second on the folder marked “Mejia.”

Dammit. He should have realized it would be in the database. He could only hope neither of them noticed Margot’s file. He didn’t want Kitty and Olivia to see what might be in there. Ed quickly scrolled down so her file disappeared off the top of the screen, then located the DeStefano case.

“Okay,” Kitty said, leaning close to the screen. “We’re looking for any photos that show Ronny’s wrists.”

Ed scanned through thumbnails, cringing at the tiny photos of Ronny’s lifeless body. However much Ronny might have deserved to pay for his actions, the harsh reality of his murder scene was not something Ed needed to see. After scrolling through the first page, Ed finally found a photo that looked to have an arm in it.

As the photo enlarged on the screen, all three of them gasped.

“Holy shit,” Ed whispered. It was Ronny’s body, facedown on the bed. Well,
facedown
might have been a bit of a stretch, considering the fact that there wasn’t much left of his head. It was more of a bloody mass of hair and brain tissue, splattered across the sheets, pillows, and headboard. Ed pulled his eyes away from the kill wound and glanced quickly at one of Ronny’s arms, splayed out over the side of the mattress, before he closed the full-screen view.

“N-no Rolex on his right hand,” he said, quickly averting his eyes.

Kitty let out a sigh. “Okay. I’m almost afraid to ask, but any photos of his left hand?”

Ed scrolled quickly, not allowing his eyes to linger on any one photo for more than a split second, and finally found what they were looking for. The photo that popped up on the screen showed Ronny’s left hand, which had been placed on top of a white card with the letters “DGM” typed across it.

“Damn,” he said. “Someone really did try and frame you guys.”

“No watch,” Olivia said. “So he wasn’t wearing it when he was killed.”

“Or,” Kitty added, “the killer removed it.”

Or the cops
, Ed thought to himself.