“I mean, no,” I say—then remember another piece of the puzzle. “But we saw him tracking Nic’s phone. That’s how we ended up at Deer Park. Javon couldn’t be in two places at one time.”
“Right, Deer Park,” Hunter repeats. “The place where you so conveniently found Mr. Thompson, a known frequent customer of Javon’s.” He shakes his head. “Mr. Thompson’s unemployed. No way he was able to pay for all that product he’s gotten from Javon’s boys. But pretend to hold on to Nic’s phone for him? That’ll be a way to clear up all debts.”
I scrub my forehead with the heel of my hand. Yeah, Pooch is pretty hard up. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that. He’d even run out behind cars pulling out of parking lots at the last minute just to embezzle a quick buck. Maybe taking a hardcore ass whooping from Javon to even the score wouldn’t be so out in left field for him. Then again, did I ever actually see Javon put his hands on Pooch? My back was turned—those sounds could’ve been anything. But still, something seems off.
“What about Sterling?” I try. “Javon was with her that night Kenny and Nic took off.”
“Of course, she’d say that. Those two have been secretly hooking up for months. One of her friends even told me she scored party favors off Javon for some of her get togethers. As long as she keeps Javon’s nose clean, hers will stay clean as well.”
I look over at Riley, wait to see if she has another rebuttal. But she stands there hugging herself with a slight crease in her forehead, looking like she’s solving a riddle in her mind.
“To make matters worse,” Officer Hunter continues, “word is that Kenny owed Javon money. He kept pocketing some after every deal. So, Kenny took off with Javon’s loot, as well as his girl. What do you think someone like Javon would do once he caught up with Kenny? I’m sorry, kid, but Javon played you.”
His words drop at my feet. I fight the urge to look down at them. I want Hunter to see me with my head held high—show him that I’m nobody’s fool. “Why would Javon care enough to play me?”
Hunter rubs his fingers across his eyebrow, almost massaging it. As if he’s trying to take his time before saying whatever it is he needs to say next. “Because . . . we have reason to believe that your sister is dead, and that Javon’s the one who killed her.”
There’s a shriek behind me—something primal and full of pain. I turn and MiMi’s crumpled on the floor, sobbing and slapping her palms against the carpet. I want to go to her. I want to peel my grandmother off the floor and hold her up while she cries. Rub her back and tell her we’ll get through this together. But my feet are cinder blocks. I couldn’t move them if I used every muscle in my body. I clutch my chest, try to feel for a heartbeat. And it’s there, pumping so hard it feels like it’s in a boxing match with my fist. It would stop, right? My heart wouldn’t be working this hard if my sister were dead.
Riley’s on the floor next to MiMi, rubbing her hair and shushing her. Officer Hunter crosses the living room to them.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Murphy. I really wish I had better news for you.” He bends over and rests a hand on her shoulder.
At that, my chest sets on fire. “Don’t touch her,” I shout to him.
Hunter blinks, looks up at me. “Jay, I’m just trying to comfort her.”
Comfort her? By coming to our house and telling her that her granddaughter is dead? He can’t be for real. “Get out,” I say.
“Jay, I know you’re—”
“Get. The fuck. Out!” The words explode out of me, finally jarring my feet from staying planted to the floor.
Officer Hunter takes a step back from MiMi. Takes two steps back from me. He looks across the living room, surveying all the damage he caused. Finally, he nods and leaves the apartment without saying another word.
I rub my chest again, hope the burning relieves itself now that Hunter’s gone. But it doesn’t matter. His words are still there: Your sister is dead. Your sister is dead. Yeah, I know that people have already thought that. I see the way heads tilt when they ask me about Nicole. When they give me tiny smiles at my latest updates. Now, though, someone’s said it aloud. And hearing the words aloud is the same as someone reaching through my ribs and squeezing my heart until it turns to mush. I close my eyes—imagine that I’m in my bed. When I open them, it’ll be morning and Nic will be in the kitchen burning waffles and all of this’ll be some anxiety-riddled nightmare about us going off to college. Has to be.
“Jay?”
I open my eyes and Riley’s in front of me, her eyes wide with concern. I look around and MiMi’s nowhere to be found.
“I got her into her bed,” Riley explains. “Gave her some Benadryl so she could wind down.”
“I . . . I have to go check on her.” I shake out my legs. Make sure they’re still working.
Riley grabs my arm. “I think you need to check on yourself first.”
I pull away. “It doesn’t matter how I am right now.”
“Yes, it does, Jay. I get it. You’re hurt.” Riley sighs. “And I’ll give you the time to be hurt, but then we need to get back to action.”
I frown at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t you hear Officer Hunter? He never said that Nicole was dead. He said they believed she’s dead—which means they don’t have full proof. Which means that there’s still a chance to—”
“Stop!” The word comes out much louder than expected. Good, though. Maybe the louder I am, the more she’ll listen. “Enough with the games, Riley. I have to take care of my grandma.”
Riley blinks at me. “What games? What are you talking about?”
“This!” I point back and forth between me and her. “We’re not playing Clue, okay? We’re not acting out the plot of your favorite mystery novel. This is my actual life. With a locked-up mom and dead dad and now a dead fickin’ sister to top it all!”
Riley shakes her head. “I never said this was a game, Jay. I told you, I care about Nicole, too.”
“Why? Because she wiped away your tears when a boy was being mean to you? Big deal! Nic was never your friend, Riley. She never even mentioned you. So, while you’re chasing after this imaginary buddy, I have to go talk to my grandma about funeral arrangements.” I walk over to her. “That part of your game, too? How many points do you get for picking out the casket? What kind do you get when you don’t even have the body?”
“Stop,” Riley says, blinking back tears. But I can’t. For some reason, I want her to hurt as much as I do.
“What about burial plots? Do you get bonus points if you find a spot right next to my dad?”
“Jay, stop it! Why are you being this mean?” One of the tears spills from her eyes but she doesn’t wipe it away.
I look down—even in my rage, I can’t watch her cry. “Why don’t you go home and tell your parents how much of an asshole I am. I’m sure you’ll hear a couple of told you so’s.”
Riley sniffles and pushes past me. She opens my front door but doesn’t slam it behind her. Even if she hates me, she respects my home. Goddamn her.