Chapter Nine #2
Margo opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her throat worked in a tight swallow, and after a long moment, she sank into the chair across from them, arms curling around herself like she needed to hold something in.
“I took them,” she said quietly. “Not the one of Hannah dying. I swear, I didn’t take that. But the others… the ones of her with Bobby Ray. With Everett. Yeah. I took those.”
Lily’s pulse kicked harder, not from adrenaline this time but something close to hope. Finally, a thread. A real, tangible thread to pull.
Griff stepped forward, voice low and direct. “Why?”
Margo’s gaze dropped to her hands. Her fingers twisted together, silent for a moment too long.
Then, finally, she looked up, her eyes glossy but steady.
“Because Hannah asked me to.”
Lily felt the words land like a punch, heavy and unexpected.
“What?” she asked, frowning. “Hannah asked you to take them?”
Margo nodded once.
Lily sat slowly, her mind spinning with this new thread unraveling in front of them. Across from her, Margo sat rigid, a bundle of guilt and resentment wrapped in layers of old hurt.
“Hannah said she needed the pictures to blackmail Everett,” Margo explained, her voice flat now. “Said she was going to use them to get money for school. Tuition.”
Lily blinked, stunned. “She was blackmailing him?”
“She was going to,” Margo corrected. “Said it’d just be a push. Everett had money, and she needed it. Said he owed her.”
Lily exchanged a glance with Griff, whose expression was unreadable. Her own pulse throbbed at her temples.
Margo stared down at the floor, her voice growing sharper. “Hannah wasn’t a saint, okay? Everyone always talks about how sweet she was, how perfect. But she was manipulative. She knew exactly how to twist people to get what she wanted.”
There it was again—that bitterness. Thick. Raw.
And dangerous.
Lily couldn’t help it, the question whispered through her thoughts, sharp as a blade: Did Margo kill her sister? She looked down at her hands, willing the suspicion to stay quiet for now.
Griff, standing near the corner of the desk, stepped in with calm precision. “Why’d you take the one of her kissing Bobby Ray?”
Margo’s lips curled in disgust. “That one was for Everett. Hannah said he’d gotten too comfortable, that she wanted to make him jealous. Rattle him a little. So she had me follow her and Bobby Ray, told me when they’d be walking out behind the feed store.”
Lily’s gut twisted.
“She kissed him just for the camera,” Margo added, shaking her head. “Bobby Ray had no idea. She used him, like she used everybody.”
Her voice cracked at the end, just a little. And in the silence that followed, Lily knew one thing for sure. Margo hadn’t let go of what her sister did.
Not even close.
Lily reached into the drawer beside her and pulled out her notepad, her expression flat, professional. Her heart thudded, but her voice was steady as she looked Margo dead in the eye.
“Margo Langston, I’m advising you of your rights,” she began. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”
Margo’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait—what? Are you serious?”
Lily didn’t stop. She finished reading the Miranda warning as Margo slowly got to her feet, her hands lifting slightly, palms out.
“I didn’t kill Hannah,” Margo said, her voice sharp and trembling.
Lily stood too, watching her carefully. “This is standard procedure,” she said evenly. “You’re not under arrest. But that photo of Hannah and Bobby Ray? It was left at a crime scene. Our crime scene. Someone opened fire on Griff and me—and left that as a message.”
The words hung heavy in the room, the weight of them impossible to ignore.
Griff stepped forward, his tone cool but pointed. “Did you leave the photo in trees where shots were fired at us?”
“No,” Margo said quickly, voice rising. “I didn’t leave the photo.”
Griff’s jaw tightened, his voice snapping out before Lily could respond. “Then who did? They’re your photos.”
Margo groaned, running both hands through her hair. “Someone stole them, okay? I had them hidden—in my old bedroom, under the floorboards. After my mom died and I came back to clean out the house, I realized they were gone.”
Lily raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. The timing was too convenient. “You’re saying someone just happened to find the photos you hid as a teenager and used them to target me and Griff?”
“Yes!” Margo snapped, then exhaled hard. “I don’t know who took them or when. But I didn’t give them to anyone, and I sure as hell didn’t leave one in the woods while someone tried to kill you.”
Lily studied her, watched the darting eyes, the tremble in her fingers. There was emotion there—but whether it was fear, guilt, or both, she couldn’t tell. Margo was good at layering her truths in just enough desperation to muddy the water.
“Why keep them at all?” Lily asked. “Why not just burn them after Hannah was murdered?”
Margo blinked at her, caught off guard. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down at her shoes.
“Because they were the only thing I had that proved she wasn’t perfect,” she said, the venom coating her words. “That I wasn’t just jealous or bitter. That I wasn’t crazy. Those photos were mine, and for once, I wanted the truth to belong to me.”
Lily didn’t speak. The silence stretched out, heavy and tense. She still didn’t know if Margo was telling the truth. But one thing was certain. Someone had taken those photos—and turned them into a weapon.
Maybe Margo had done that. Or maybe someone else.
Margo rubbed her hands down the sides of her jeans, the defensive energy starting to fade into something rawer, more fractured.
“I thought the photo of Hannah and Bobby Ray kissing would hurt his case,” she said, her voice quieter now.
“That people would see it and assume they had a real relationship.”
She looked up at Lily and Griff, her gaze sharp with something that wasn’t quite anger—something closer to regret.
“But they didn’t,” Margo insisted. “That kiss? It was just Hannah being Hannah. Manipulative. She knew Bobby Ray liked her, probably loved her, but she didn’t feel the same.
She used him for the photo and then moved on like it meant nothing.
” She paused, muttered under her breath, “It hurt him. It crushed him when he found out.”
Lily felt something shift in the air, the pieces moving again, just enough to make space for a darker question. She turned toward Griff at the same moment he looked at her.
His voice was even. Measured. “That’s motive,” he said. “Bobby Ray had feelings for her. She used him. Humiliated him. Lied.” He looked at Margo. “Did he kill your sister?”
Margo stared back, lips parted, but she didn’t say anything, and in the silence that followed, Lily felt her chest tighten. Because the more they dug, the more complicated the truth became.
And the more she feared that Bobby Ray’s last words—”I didn’t kill her. Prove it.”—might not be as clear-cut as she’d thought.
Margo looked down again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want Bobby Ray to have done it… but I’m not sure.”
She swallowed hard, her arms crossing tightly over her chest like she needed to hold herself together.
“Bobby Ray was hurt,” Margo went on. “Crushed. After that kiss, when he figured out she’d just used him, it wrecked him. I saw it. He didn’t talk to anyone for days.”
Lily felt the weight of the silence settle again. The grief. The doubt. The ache of not knowing who to believe anymore.
“Then why,” Lily asked softly, “would Bobby Ray send me a letter? Why ask me to clear his name?”
Margo didn’t answer. She just stood there, staring at the floor for several long seconds before shaking her head slowly. “I have to go,” she murmured, suddenly turning for the door.
She was almost through it when she stopped in the open doorway, one hand braced against the frame. She looked back at Lily, eyes tight, searching.
“Are you going to arrest me?” Margo asked.
Lily considered it, even if the answer came fast in her gut. “No,” she said finally, her tone level. “There’s not enough evidence. The photos don’t have a clear chain of custody. No fingerprints. No witness to who left them at the scene. It’s possible someone stole them like you said. Made copies.”
She paused.
“Of course, it’s also possible you’re lying,” Lily added. “That you’re behind everything—including Hannah’s murder. But I can’t prove it. Not yet.”
Margo flinched at that, her expression unreadable.
“You’re free to go,” Lily spelled out. “For now.”
Without another word, Margo turned and rushed down the hallway, her footsteps echoing until they faded into silence.
Lily let out a slow breath and looked at Griff. There were still too many questions. But now, at least, they had somewhere to look for the answers.
Footsteps approached again, brisk, purposeful. And a moment later, Jesse appeared in the doorway, his expression tight and pale, lips pressed into a grim line.
She straightened immediately, and beside her, Griff did the same. One look at his face, and Lily knew something was wrong. Apparently, so did Griff.
“What happened?” Griff asked, taking the question right out of her mouth.
Jesse looked at them both and shook his head. “There’s been a murder.”
───── ? ────