Noah turns away from the window. “Sid, the police are here.”
“Who is that?” asks Ryan, spitting out the words. “Who the fuck is that? You have someone there with you, you whore?”
I disconnect the call. His peace, love, and positivity sure didn’t last for long. Hanging up on the asshole is a small victory, but one I will gladly take. And sure enough, someone knocks on the door. This spiraling sensation is a horribly familiar feeling. I take a deep breath and say, “Might be best if you move the board on the fence and get out the back way.”
Noah pauses and stares at me for a minute. “Do you not want me here? Or do you think I don’t want to be here?”
“I think this is quickly turning into a disaster that you don’t need to be part of. Something’s happened to Grace and…I don’t want you getting caught up in this.”
“Okay. I appreciate you trying to protect me. But unless you’re asking me to leave, this has to be my choice.”
I don’t know what to say.
The knocking happens again. With more urgency this time.
Meanwhile, Noah takes a seat in one of Grandma’s black leather and chrome armchairs. He pats his lap and Auggie jumps up to make himself at home. My eyes are watering suspiciously. But I will not cry in front of the cops. Not happening.
The coffee in my stomach has turned as sour as can be. What I need to know is if Grace is alive or dead. She invited herself into this situation for shitty reasons. But she sure as hell didn’t deserve to get hurt or worse.
I blink repeatedly, stand up straight, and undo the hundred and one locks on my front door. No eye contact for the reporters standing out on the street. Keeping their distance due to a warning from the police officer, probably. My focus is all on the woman standing in front of me. She’s about my size with white skin, long dark hair in a braid, and wearing a charcoal-colored suit. There’s a very serious expression on her face. I wonder if it’s what gave her identity away to Noah. She isn’t someone I’ve met before. Which is not a bad thing.
“Sidney Walsh?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Detective Hahn.” She holds up her badge and I.D. “I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you.”
Inviting a cop into my home is generally a no. But this isn’t Officer Smith here to mess with me. And I would rather answer a couple of questions now on my own territory than be invited down to the station for something more serious. The other thing is…I need information now. She can tell me what the hell is happening.
I step back and she enters. The front door is immediately shut tight against the press. Detective Hahn gives a nod to my neighbor and the dog.
“What happened to Grace?” I ask. “Have you found a body?”
The detective gives me a long look before taking a seat on the couch. Her blank face is excellent. “Why don’t we sit?”
There’s no chance of me being still. I commence pacing back and forth in the small space. “I am guessing you don’t have a body. Just the car. But there must have been signs of a struggle for you to be here, right? For this to be taken so seriously?”
Her chin rises just a little. I am taking it as confirmation.
“It’s not even midday. So you found it what…early this morning? The article online said it was left in the same national park as Briana Petersen.”
“Where were you last night, Miss Walsh?” asks the detective.
“I was at a party next door until about ten and then here.”
“Was anyone with you? Someone who could corroborate this?”
“Me,” says Noah.
“And your name is?”
“Noah Allard. I’m her neighbor.”
“You were together the entire time?” asks the detective, taking notes on her phone.
“Yes.” I nod. “Apart from the five minutes it took me to walk home, unlock the door, and take my dog out back to pee.”
“By then I was here,” says Noah.
