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Erin’s eyes widened. “How? Andwhy?”
“It was actually pretty easy,” Bobbi said. “I went to her house yesterday afternoon and asked her parents if I could spend some time in her bedroom. I said it might help me feel better because I’ve been missing her so much, and being in her room with all her stuff might make it feel like old times again. They didn’t suspect anything at all, because Cerina and I were best friends. They just waved me upstairs and told me to take as long as I needed.”
“And they didn’t notice when you came back downstairs with a laptop that you didn’t have when you arrived?” I said, raising a brow.
“No. They seemed pretty distracted. Probably because their daughter was just murdered a few weeks ago,” she said, shooting me a withering look.
“Right. So why do you think this laptop will help us?”
“Well, you guys said you think Cerina’s murderer hated herandKinsey, right?”
“Yup.”
Bobbi smiled thinly and patted the laptop. “There might be evidence of whoever that person was on this thing.”
Erin frowned. “I doubt it. I think the police would’ve gone through her computer already, and they obviously didn’t find much if they’ve already returned it to her parents.”
“That’s because they weren’t looking in the right place,” Bobbi said, giving her an arch look. “There’s a secret folder on here. It has Cerina’s diary in it.”
My brows furrowed. “Cerina’s diary wasn’t a secret. She had copies of it everywhere.”
“That was just her monthly schedule,” Bobbi said, rolling her eyes. “The thing on this laptop was more like a journal.”
“I don’t get it,” Erin said, slowly shaking her head. “Why would she write everything on a physical schedule and then have a computerized diary as well? Why not just pick one thing and stick to that?”
“She preferred writing things out in person, so that’s why she did up all her schedules on paper,” Bobbi explained. “But the diary was a program her therapist recommended to her. That’s why she had it.”
“She was in therapy?” I asked, tilting my chin.
“Duh, since she was twelve. She had a ton of emotional issues.”
“Tell me about it,” Erin said under her breath.
Bobbi glared at her. “Can I finish, please?”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
Bobbi cleared her throat. “Okay, so, Cerina’s therapist recommended this program to her. It’s a daily journal with a section for your mood and then another section where you can dump all your thoughts related to that mood. It has other features as well, but that’s the gist of it,” she said. “The therapist thought it would be useful for Cerina to use it to sort through her many,manyemotions. So, my thinking is, she probably wrote down stuff about who she had problems with, who she hated, who hated her, and so on, because that kind of stuff was all relevant to her feelings. Right?”
“Makes sense. But why did she tell you about the diary?” Erin asked. “It seems like something most people would keep to themselves.”
“She had to tell me about it, because she needed me to install it in a secret folder that her parents couldn’t access.”
“Why?”
Bobbi shot a glance at me. “You know what her parents are like. They’re so overbearing,” she said. “They were always going through her room. Checking her pockets to make sure she wasn’t hiding drugs or cigarettes in them. Stuff like that.”
“Oh.”
“She wanted it to be completely private,” Bobbi went on. “A place where she could write down her thoughts and feelings without being judged. Something for her eyes only.”
“Hold on.” I raised a hand. “Why did she askyouto install it?”
Bobbi rubbed her chin. “Uhh… she knew I was really good with tech stuff,” she murmured.
My eyes widened. “She knew you created the Dirt app, didn’t she?”
“She suspected it, yes. But I never confirmed it.”
