“What the hell.” It was the best I could come up with. I was incensed. I couldn’t prove it, but I was sure Jade burned me on purpose. This was no accident.
That’s ridiculous, I told myself, she’s just a kid.
As quickly as the paranoid thoughts arrived, logic drove them from my mind. The memories don’t rattle me. They only make me stronger. Believe it, Shay.
“What are you even doing in here?” Jade said.
“Me?” The girl’s oblivion left me slack-jawed with awe. “What about you?”
“I was making tea.”
“You’re supposed to stay in the parlor.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” She ogled my hand with repugnance. “But maybe you do.”
At fourteen, she was nearly as tall as me, so when we glared at each other we were eye to eye. I turned and strode off toward the sink. Cold water from the faucet slapped my raw skin and I sucked in air through my teeth. “I saw you. In your room.”
“So? I needed a break. Everyone’s so fucking serious in there, it’s exhausting. Anyway, the other detective said I could go.”
I didn’t believe her. If she’d voiced a desire for tea, Norton would have made it for her. Tim had corralled everyone and monitored them all day. He wouldn’t invite Jade to wander off now.
“Go get your dad. Right now,” I said. I need a witness so I don’t wring your neck. “Tell him I have some questions for you both.”
Jade leveled her gaze. The corner of her mouth twitched. “I know what she did.”
I was still occupied with my hand, opening whisper-smooth cabinet drawers in search of a first-aid kit, so her statement caught me off guard. My blood got viscous in my veins, damned up. Which she was Jade talking about? Abella? Bebe? Camilla? Or someone else?
“What who did, Jade?” I stepped in closer. “If you know what happened to Jasper, you need to tell me.”
She was outfitted with those trendy invisible braces, though her mouth didn’t appear to need fixing. When she smiled, the teeth she flashed between candy-gloss lips were perfection. Teenage girls aren’t supposed to have Jade’s confidence and polish. This kid was growing up too fast. If Jade no longer considered herself a child, that could elicit a whole world of trouble. I’d seen it happen before, and I feared Jade was on her way down the same path.
“Who’s she?” I repeated. “What did she do?”
Jade batted her lashes. “I honestly have no idea?”
There were a dozen things I could have said, a dozen ways to make her talk. But just then, from somewhere on Jade’s body, came the unmistakable chime of a mobile device.
“That you?” I asked, cocking my head. “Nah. How could it be, when Wellington told you to turn off your phone?”
Jade blanched. “I—”
“Did you contact anyone with that device after we got here? And don’t bother lying,” I said, “because I’m about to check for myself.”
Her expression darkened. “It’s notifications. I didn’t talk to anyone.”
“Friends from school? Classmates?”
“I said no, okay?”
I wasn’t buying her story—what kind of teenage girl doesn’t reach out to her friends when her life’s turned upside down? Jade was hiding something.
“Unlock the phone and hand it over.”
“What? No way.”
Her cryptic words—I know what she did—were gaining mass in my mind, elbowing everything out of their way. “Failure to comply with a criminal investigation is obstruction of justice,” I said, because I was suddenly sure her device was the key to figuring this family out. “Remove it from your pocket and unlock it. Now.”
For a few seconds she didn’t budge. Then she lifted her T-shirt high enough for me to see her flat, white stomach and slid the phone from between her waistband and the sharp bone of her hip.
I stuck out my good hand and said, “Give it to me.” I had no right to seize her phone as evidence, no proof it contained anything that was pertinent to the investigation. All I had was a feeling and a profound yearning to teach the kid a lesson. At the time, it felt like enough.
Jade pressed her thumb against the home button to unlock it, but her hands were too sweaty. I watched her type in her passcode. Even then, the phone stayed in her grip.
You know that game kids play where they pass a hand over their face and change their expression—happy, sad, angry—like the hand controls their mood? That was Jade, except her mood swings were real. “Fuck you,” she said as she wagged the unlocked phone in my face.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s text messages or goddamn emojis, you’re withholding critical evidence related to Jasper’s disappearance. That’s a misdemeanor, Jade, punishable by up to a year in jail.” I was improvising. I was desperate. “I’m not kidding about this, not even a little.”
Jade went inert. Then, just as quickly, her expression changed again. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. “God, relax. Here, it’s yours,” she said—and it was. The palm of my left hand was open, waiting. But when Jade finally thrust the phone at me, she went for my right. The girl aimed straight for the burn. Smacked the device against my boiled hand with so much force that I cried out in pain.
“You little . . .” I gasped. The pain was dazzling.
Another flawless smile. “You asked for it.”
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Bebe stood in the kitchen doorway, her jaunty hairstyle at odds with her downturned mouth. “Jade? I thought you were using the bathroom. What are you doing with her?”
“You were all asked to stay with Wellington,” I said, trying to pull myself together. “But since you’re here, you should know Jade intentionally evaded his request and concealed a device that could be integral to our investigation.” You want to play, Jade? Let’s play.
“Jade’s a fourteen-year-old child,” Bebe said. “You can’t take anything she says seriously.”
“It was a flat-out lie. Deliberate disobedience.”
“Jasper’s missing. Jade’s very upset.”
“She has my phone, Bebe,” Jade said suddenly. “Make her give it back.”
“As I said,” I repeated, “I have reason to believe this device—”
“Wait a minute, were you questioning her?” Bebe’s nostrils flared. “You can’t do that, she’s underage! You can’t question a minor without an adult or guardian. Everyone knows that.”