Page 10 of What They'll Say About Us

"Did he say he had?"

"He said that she needed to find someone else to talk to. She didn't respond to that. That exchange was on Wednesday. The last two on Friday night were about meeting up. She said she needed to talk to him, that he needed to text her back."

"Did he reply?"

"No. But it's quite possible he saw her that night. Even more possible now that I know he didn't tell you about the texts. Why do you think he didn't? Why was he being so secretive?"

I wasn't sure why, and I didn't want to get into my thoughts about Liam with Alina. "It sounds like you should be asking Liam these questions, not me."

"I've tried to talk to him. He won't speak to me, but he might talk to you." She gave me a suspicious look. "I really can't believe you didn't know about the texts. Detective Cabot talked to Liam about them. It's in the police report."

"Liam didn't tell me, and I never saw the police report. Why would I?"

"I thought Cabot might have asked you about them, since you and Liam were together."

I shook my head. "He didn't. This is the first I'm hearing about any texts. Those last two months of college were a hectic blur. I was tied up for hours every day in the theater, and Liam and I were slowly breaking up, so we weren't talking a lot, and when we were, it wasn't about Paige."

"What do the police have to say about all this?" Morgan interjected. "Have you been in touch with the detective on your sister's case? Has he shared the police files with you?"

"A very generalized report was shared with my family years ago, but there was nothing of substance in it. Detective Cabot came to his conclusion of accidental death very quickly. We only got details on Paige's text messages to Liam and her last call to you, because we eventually got her phone back."

"And this detective has never been willing to reopen the case?" Morgan asked.

"He retired three years ago. I tried to talk to the person who took his place, Detective Colton Barclay, but he wasn't interested in anything I had to say. Your podcast might change that. If the public starts asking for answers, someone in the police department might be forced to respond."

"So, that's why you came to me," I said.

"Your trip here seemed like a sign. That this might be the best and possibly the only opportunity to get to the truth," Alina replied.

"But you don't trust me."

"I don't have to trust you. You can generate attention. According to my sister, you were always good at that." She paused as the server filled our cups with coffee and asked if we were ready to order. Alina told her we needed a few more moments, then turned back to me. "What are you going to do first? I would suggest speaking to Liam. He owns a club in the West Loop now. It's called The Peak."

I hadn't seen Liam since I'd graduated, and I didn't want to see him now. But I did find the fact that he'd never told me about those texts to be puzzling. We'd talked about Paige in the days after her passing, and he'd never said a word. Of course, I also hadn't told him about my missed phone call, which I couldn't explain, either.

"I have a list of people who are still local and some that have moved away," Alina added, pulling an envelope out of her purse. "I hope you can get Detective Barclay to reopen the case. It might interest you to know that he was one of the patrol officers on the scene when Paige was found. That didn't seem to matter when I talked to him. Maybe hearing it from someone else besides a family member will make a difference."

"Thanks," I said, taking the envelope.

"I saw your teaser video. Are you planning to film every day? The more public interest we can get, the better."

"We'll be podcasting on a regular basis." I paused as a man stormed toward us, with anger written across his face.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded in a voice loud enough to garner attention from the nearby tables.

Alina let out an annoyed sigh. "What are you doing here, Ray?"

"The better question is, what are you doing, Alina? And why on earth did you get her involved?"

As his furious gaze turned to me, I realized who he was—Ray MacIntyre, Paige's younger brother. He'd been a sophomore when we'd been seniors, and he'd looked a lot different then, usually dressed in T-shirts and baggy, low-riding jeans that fell off his skinny body. Now he'd filled out, put himself in a suit, and had cut his once-long brown hair very short.

"Whatever is happening stops now," Ray added.

"That's not your call," Alina told him. "I asked Tessa to get involved. Her podcast can reach thousands of people. It will get the police to reopen Paige's case."

"You're going to kill Mom; this is the last thing she wants."

"That's not true. Mom wants to know the truth."