Chapter 26
Wdyd?
What did you do? At midnight, a text from TJ Logan popped up on Drew’s phone. The sheriff’s son and Drew’s best friend. He’d been dreading a text from TJ now that he was back home from visiting colleges.
Wym?
What do you mean? Drew wiped his hands on his jeans. He knew what he wanted—information on what happened at Jenny’s. His dad probably put him up to it.
Yk. H4u.
You know. Here for you.
Tks.
He needed to talk to someone. But not TJ and not in a text. He thumbed another text.
Ttyl.
Talk to you later.
He trusted TJ, but he and his dad were tight. Anything Drew told him would put his friend in a bad spot, and Drew couldn’t see him lying to his dad.
His phone lit up. A call from his dad. He hesitated. What if the sheriff had found his hiding place? Maybe that’s why TJ had texted—no, the sheriff would be banging on the door if that’d happened. He swiped his phone. “Hello?”
“You want to tell me what you and Jenny talked about that night?”
Drew gripped the phone. It was like he’d stepped into a huge bird net, and it was closing around him. “How did you—”
“The sheriff got Jenny’s call logs. You should’ve already told him about the calls. Drew, you should’ve told me.”
Call logs. He hadn’t thought about anyone accessing her calls.
“Did you kill her?”
“No!” Blood drained from Drew’s head, and he stumbled to the twin bed in his aunt’s spare bedroom. Rage flared through him. How could his own dad ask him that?
Suddenly he couldn’t stop the question that had badgered him since Friday night. “It was your gun. Did you kill her?”
Dead silence followed. Drew hovered his thumb over the end button.
“I can’t believe you would even think that.” His dad’s voice was hard. “Wait a minute. How do you know my gun was used?”
His heart leaped in his throat. “W-what are you talking about?”
“My gun. Earlier tonight Ben Logan said whoever killed Jenny used it or one like it.”
“So you’re not denying it.”
“I didn’t know I had to. I gave her the gun months ago when someone tried to break into her house.”
“I didn’t really think you killed her.” His voice cracked. “Maybe she pulled it on her attacker and it went off . . .” The image of Jenny lying on her back formed. No. Whoever shot her did it at point-blank range.
“Do you know where my gun is?”
Drew couldn’t admit he’d taken it. But he had a hard time lying. “How would I know?”
“I don’t know, but you better have a better story ready when you talk to Ben Logan in the morning.”
“In the morning?” Drew couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.
“Yep. Tori hasn’t called you?”
“I dunno. Had my phone silenced. Wouldn’t have known you called if I hadn’t been looking at the screen.” He opened his call log. Three calls and one voicemail from Tori.
“You better get your act together, son.”
“Not sure I know how—you haven’t exactly been a great example.”
Silence stretched between them again. “Drew . . . look . . . I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you since your mom—” His voice cracked. A top popped on a can. “I’m going to do better. I promise.”
“Yeah, Dad. Sure. Gotta go.” Drew ended the call. He would believe his dad’s promises when he stopped drinking. And that wasn’t happening.
He should’ve told the sheriff about the call. What else did Ben Logan know? Drew stood and walked to the window and stared out into the dark night. Was it too late to call Tori?
He checked his phone and saw the voicemail again. Drew clicked on it and listened.
“Drew, Ben Logan wants to interview you in the morning at nine. I’ve already talked to Erin, and she’ll make sure you’re ready—I’ll be there by eight thirty. That way we’ll have time to talk before we leave. And don’t worry . . . just tell the truth.”
“You better have a better story ready.” His dad’s words rang in his ears. He didn’t know what to do. It was too late to call Tori. And what would he say, anyway?
If he told about the money . . . how much trouble would he be in? Couldn’t be much worse than it already was. Ben Logan knew they had talked that night. He was on Ben Logan’s suspect list, otherwise he wouldn’t want to interview him. Drew figured it’d be more like interrogate him. He bit his lip.
If the sheriff found out about the money, would he think Drew killed her for it?
He lay down on the bed with his street clothes on, unable to stop the thoughts. Drew flipped over on his side, but his mind wouldn’t shut off.
Whoever killed Jenny had gotten away with murder, and he didn’t know how to change that.