FBI? This must be serious. She felt a new wave of emotions, mainly panic.
“Mrs. Evans, nice to meet you,” said Alex. He moved toward her and extended a large hand to greet her.
She shook his hand weakly and tried to turn up the corners of her mouth. “You too,” she said awkwardly as she grasped his hand.
He dropped his hand down to his side and cocked his head. “Please follow me.”
She managed to twist her aching body into a standing position, wincing as the sound of the chair scraped loudly across the floor. Dutifully, she followed him out the door. She looked back over her shoulder and saw that Inspector O’Connell was watching them as they walked out. Sydney had a feeling gnawing at her, almost as if they were setting her up for something.
Alex walked silently in front of her, his broad shoulders looming ahead, as they walked down the hall. They stopped at a large black door, which he opened to reveal a room that was much larger than the one she had been questioned in. When she stepped inside, Alex told her to wait by the door.
Folding tables were arranged in long rows with suitcases, carry-on bags, and purses littered across each surface. There was an army of uniformed personnel wearing white latex gloves combing through each bag. She could hear him speaking in a hushed tone to the man who was obviously in charge of the room. The man walked away and returned carrying her vintage purse.
Alex walked back to her and handed it to her. “Need this?”
“Yes, thank you!” she said. Immediately she buried her hand inside as they returned to the hallway. Although there was no phone, Sydney was able to retrieve a pack of mint-flavored gum and stuck a few pieces in her mouth. Between the black coffee and whatever she had eaten on the plane, her breath needed a refresh.
Sydney followed Alex back down the hallway.
“We’ve set you up in a local hotel for the night. One of the officers will bring your suitcase in a few hours,” he called over his shoulder. Sydney was relieved; she always packed a set of fresh clothes and toiletries in her carry-on. At least she would be able to get a shower and put herself back together once she arrived at the hotel.
“What about my cell phone?” she asked.
“It will take a few hours for them to analyze your phone. As I’m sure O’Connell told you, they’ll be reading text messages, email, anything related to the investigation.” Sydney cringed at the thought of her entire personal life being sifted through by complete strangers. But who was she kidding? Since Jack died, she hadn’t had much of a personal life anyway.
“Officer Birch?”
“You can call me Alex,” he said, giving her a sideways smile.
“Okay, Alex, is this normal? I mean, to keep someone overnight in a hotel in order to search their phone? It feels…like I am missing something?”
Alex turned his head back slightly to look at her and raised his eyebrows. She couldn’t tell if he was surprised or impressed. He shrugged.
“Your case is a little different, Mrs. Evans.”
Different how? she wondered. She wanted to press him for more information but decided to wait until she had a chance to think through things more.
“Okay.” She looked down at her purse limply banging against her leg as they walked down the hall. She looked at him again. “You can call me Sydney.”
As he pulled open the large glass door leading outside, he gave her a half smile that revealed two dimples on each cheek. Sydney tried to smile back, but her throbbing head made it difficult to manage. “We’re almost there.”
As they stepped into the parking garage, the gravity of the situation began to weigh on her. Rows of neatly parked cars spanned out on either side of her. She walked slightly behind Alex looking at the pavement, as if she were being escorted to the principal’s office.
She thought of Marissa and Ethan and wondered if they were in a similar situation to hers. It was a creepy feeling, each of them being questioned in the murder of their friend. They’re innocent, she kept telling herself. Try not to worry. But she was worried. Mainly because her memories of what messages were on her cell phone were a bit foggy at the moment. Were there any messages that could be read the wrong way? That would make Marissa look bad? She didn’t communicate with Ethan. After Jack died, they barely spoke to each other. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about each other, but it was a silent agreement that speaking of Jack or anything else was too painful still.
And poor Lizzy. How could this happen?
She thought back to the day the three of them had met at Northwestern University. It was their sophomore year. Sydney and Lizzy had met in their Advanced Digital Marketing class. They were working together on a project in the library and decided to break for a coffee run. It was late afternoon, and the campus glimmered with a wet sheen of rain left over from another spring storm.
They were walking down an isolated path when they spotted a tall brunette up ahead. Marissa instantly stood out with her completely coordinated outfit and flawless long brown hair.
“I think that’s Marissa Schumacher, the heiress,” Lizzy whispered in her ear. Sydney had heard she was attending their school, but this the first time she’d seen her on campus.
Just as they were getting ready to turn off the path, she caught a glint of something in the bushes. Sydney slowed for a moment and realized it was a camera. Someone was trying to take pictures of Marissa, which was completely against school rules.
Without thinking, Sydney shouted at the man: “Hey! Heyyy!” She then ran in his direction.
With a loud thump, the man tumbled forward out of the bushes and onto the wet path. His camera equipment spilled out, and she heard a loud crack as a lens must have snapped. Marissa jumped to the side, her eyes searching wildly for the source of all the noise. The man scrambled his equipment together, ran back toward the bushes, and disappeared.
Sydney and Lizzy caught up to Marissa, both out of breath.
“Are you guys all right?” Marissa said, lines of concern crinkling her perfect face.
“That man, he was trying to take pictures of you or something!” Lizzy burst out.
Marissa sighed. “Oh yes, it happens.” She looked wearily toward the photographer’s escape path, sighed, and then tossed a lock of long auburn hair before looking back at them. “You both are so sweet to come to my rescue. Please, can I buy you coffee or something?”
“Actually we were just heading to Java House. Want to join us?”
Marissa smiled. “Yes, and it’s my treat!”
The three of them walked together and laughed about the whole weird situation. After that they were inseparable for the rest of their college tenure.
Thinking of those times brought tears back to Marissa eyes. Crying, however, wasn’t doing anyone any good. She had cried enough for the last six months. She felt something switch inside of her, a resolve to bring justice for her sweet friend.
The loud click of a car door opening snapped her back to the present. Alex was holding the door open to a small Ford Focus, and by the freshly vacuumed look of the interior, she assumed it was a rental car. She nodded a thank-you at him as she plopped down in the front passenger seat. It was all she could do to not push the seat back, close her eyes, and pass out then and there.
“O’Connell put you up at the Marriott by the airport. It’s nothing fancy, but you won’t be there long.”