Scrolling through the group text messages I quickly fired off a few responses. Hannah had officially been released from the hospital with an appointment already made with her therapist. A therapist who I'd thought badly of before. Now that we'd uncovered the real reason that he hadn't believed Hannah was being followed shame filled me. A big reminder that I shouldn't judge people when I had so little information.
Jessy was inviting everyone to meet at the bar Aurora tonight; it was the big reopening after being in jail and closed down for weeks. Even though I didn't really want to go tonight, there was no point in arguing about it. Jessy wouldn't let go until we all ended up there. I think it was her way of trying to get everyone back into the normal swing of things, and perhaps a little bit of her wanting her brother to know how sorry everyone was for suspecting him.
It would also give me a chance to appear out in public without Jake, hopefully leading anyone looking for him astray. I had to play this perfectly, or they'd never believe me.
At one point I really believed that this whole thing would be over when we found Hannah, but here I was still caught in the mayhem. I had to try. Wanted to, really. I could no longer imagine my life going back to the way it was before.
The lonely, quiet nights hiding out in my apartment watching True Crime documentaries and sipping on wine. I had friends, don't get me wrong, and I even went out with them sometimes. What I didn't have-well, that's a story for another time.
With practiced ease I pulled my hair into a messy bun, pulling a few strands forward. I didn't bother to apply any makeup to my face, it would play into my plan this way. I quickly sent out a text to Jake using the burner phone I'd gotten before stuffing it into a little safe that the motel had in the back of the closet alongside the hoodie Jake had worn yesterday; finding the safe had been a bit of a surprise. This wasn't the usual type of place for these kinds of safes, but I was grateful. I couldn't let anyone find the phone.
The walk to the police station was uneventful, with most people I encountered giving me a curious glance. I was out of place; Duskwood was relatively small and I had a feeling that most people knew one another. At least to the point of having seen people enough to recognize them even if they didn't know them by name.
Within minutes of telling the receptionist my name I was led into a dark interrogation room and sat across what had to be a two-way mirror. A great spot for the FBI to listen in to our conversation. I ignored the sinking feeling in my gut, this wasn't a surprise. At least, that's what I told myself. It was a big deal whether I wanted to admit it or not. I had to stay calm though; calm but alert.
I'd become great at maneuvering conversations through text message, to the point where I often found myself manipulating the conversation so that I could get the information I needed. It made me a bad person, and now that Hannah had been found I needed to confess to my whole group what I had really done. I was terrified; even more terrified of that then I was of this conversation with Alan.
The door opened illuminating a man with salt and pepper hair, neatly styled with gel and dark, friendly eyes. His familiar deep voice greeted me. "Charlee. It is nice to finally meet you."
I cocked my head to the side, squinting at him as my foot jittered back and forth across the floor. Thank God for the table in front of me. He couldn't see my feet, or else he'd definitely think I was guilty of whatever he was about to accuse me of. The saddest part is I probably was.
"Same to you, Alan." I said lightly, pressing my hands into my thighs to quiet my feet.
He shuffled over to the table, placing a cup of coffee in front of me before offering me sugar and cream which I accepted. He at back in the chair and opened a notebook before withdrawing a pen from his shirt pocket. His head turned, eyes flickering towards the two-way mirror before focusing on me. "I trust you are not alone today; did I miss your friends in the waiting area?"
"I'm alone." I answered honestly; even though something about the way he emphasized the word alone told me that he wasn't really asking me a question. He was telling me something. And that something had to do with the FBI that surely were on the other side of the mirror. But why?
One part of me wanted to believe that Alan was a good guy, and somehow, for some unexplainable reason he was on my side: but I'd been a serious suspect in Hannah's disappearance for weeks.
"Why?" He sat back, pen laying across the notepad abandoned. Eyes peering at me, raking and taking in my expression, my body language. Devouring each and every possible clue about my behavior he could. Figuring people out was a big part of police work, that much I knew.
I shrugged. "They don't know I'm here." And I didn't want them to. If I was arrested, there was nothing they could do about it. I decided to answer the question I knew was coming before he even asked it. "Why worry them? Haven't they been through enough?"
Start with the truth; at least as much of the truth as I could. There were things I would never reveal, but I'm sure my friends had given him quite a few details. No point in being caught in an obvious lie.
"What have they been through, Charlee?" Alan took a sip of his coffee before picking up the abandoned pen and leaning forward.
The better question would have been what haven't they been through. At least it would have been much easier to answer. They'd been terrorized, assaulted, betrayed. They had to run and hide, shot someone and so, so much more. I scoffed instead of answering, indicating that I needed a more specific question. I knew better than to get too specific with the police, especially without a lawyer present.
If anyone knew that I hadn't brought a lawyer to this interrogation they'd probably smack me upside the head, but if I'd lawyered up, they stamp me with the word guilty without a second thought. It was a habit of the police, even if getting a lawyer was the smartest thing anyone could do in a situation like this. I had a lawyer on standby if I felt I needed it. I hoped I wouldn't.
"Okay. Why don't we start with how you got involved with this crowd." He pulled a piece of paper out, glancing at it before continuing. "You're not from around here and according to your phone records we have been unable to find any contact with any of them until after Hannah's disappearance."
My face remained impassive, although inside I was squirming. How had they managed to get my phone records this fast? They hadn't even known my last name until I walked in the door, much less had enough time to get a court order for my phone records. I let my eyes flicker towards the mirror before focusing on Alan.
We went back and forth for over an hour. Him asking me a question, and me responding with the vaguest, yet truthful answer I could muster. By his reactions I could tell he'd already learned most of this from the others. Maybe I hadn't really needed to come here and answer his questions. Maybe this was a mistake.
"Tell me about the hacker." Alan's voice was authoritative, but his eyes gleamed an apology. I had told him over text that I wouldn't talk about Jake, but this time I would.
"Did-" I cleared my throat as the words stuck in my throat. "Did you find him?" I pulled at the hem of my shirt willing tears to my eyes. I bit my lip and sucked in a gulp of air. "Did you?"
He cleared his throat before glancing towards the mirror again, he kept doing that. Over and over throughout the entire interview. He didn't like the FBI being there any more than I did. Alan was playing a game, a part in the interview. It was like we had an unspoken agreement to put on a show.
"I'll be honest with you Charlee, since so far, you've been pretty honest with me. We haven't found him, as the news has been reporting non-stop the fire in the mine caused quite a bit of damage to the infrastructure, a lot of the tunnels caved in, and the smoke made it impossible for us to thoroughly search it."
I let the tears that had been clinging to my eyelashes cascade down my face, wiping them away furiously as I wrapped my arms around myself and sobbed silently. I let my chin fall towards my chest, hiding my face as my shoulders shook slightly with each fake sob. Alan said nothing as I cried making me believe that my performance was at least somewhat convincing.
"Please Alan, please find him." I begged, looking up at Alan's eyes through my blurred vision. "Please save him."
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I will be updating at least once a week!
Hope you all like the new cover, simple but I like it.
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