Danica

Saturday, July 20th, 6:54pm.

"Eli, I'm sure they just want to talk with us, I wouldn't worry about calling a lawyer unless it starts to feel like they're accusing you of hurting Derrick," Paxon suggests evenly as we walk up the sidewalk to the police station.

The shock of answering a phone call and having a police officer ask if we could come down to the station has set us all on edge as Eli gives Paxon an uncertain look. My hands are shaking ever so slightly but I clench them into fists to keep the others from seeing. I reach up and tug at my earlobe, briefly twisting the stud earring that is pierced there.

"Asking for one right away wouldn't look good on your part, just see what they want," I encourage Eli as I open the door for him.

"Okay, but I...-," Eli doesn't get to finish as he comes to a sudden stop and I nearly run into the back of him.

I look past him and it's then that I spot Mila.

Eli's shoulders draw back to form a rigid wall of muscle as we watch her walk past us. A police officer walks ahead of her as she leads her out of the station. Mila gives us a brief smile, one that is tense and I wrinkle my brows at her as I try to read her face. But I don't get to as she turns her head and walks out the doors without a word.

"What's she doing here?" Paxon murmurs.

I cast a look over my shoulder as I can't help but nearly roll my eyes at him.

"The same as us would be my guess," I sigh.

The full meaning of showing up here has yet to hit me if I'm to be truthful. But I head for the desk situated at the back of the lobby anyways, determined to get this sorted out as quickly as I can. A young woman sitting at the desk smiles as she pauses in typing at her computer to turn her full attention on me.

"Can I help you?" she asks brightly and I swallow as the words stick in my throat.

"Uh, hi, I'm Danica Bruner, I was told to come down to the station by a Detective Marcus Caine," I tell her and she nods as she looks at her computer screen.

"I see he has a note jotted down, if you three could take a seat he'll be right with you," she says as she nods toward the side of the lobby where there looks to be a waiting room.

"Okay, thank you," I mutter as I gesture for the others to follow me.

We get seated in a couple of thinly padded chairs in a little waiting room that is in the corner of the station. A heap of magazines are precariously stacked on a table and look like they'll fall over at any moment should they be disturbed. I sit completely still knowing deep down that I'm probably being watched by someone somewhere as I look toward a low wall of windows framing one side of the room.

Just breathe, they just want to ask some questions. You didn't do anything to Derrick, you're innocent.

And it's the truth.

"Elijah Zhang?"

We both flinch as Eli looks from me to the man who has stopped in the doorway of the waiting room. He looks like the type of man you think you could trust, as he has kind eyes and light stubble on his sharp cheekbones. He could easily trade the moleskin journal that he's holding for a clipboard and closely trimmed dress-shirt for a tank top and flip-flops instead of polished oxfords.

In short, he looks like he should be a summer camp counselor instead of a detective searching for a missing person who honestly doesn't deserve to be found.

But I can't suggest that to him.

He smiles and it's then I can see the carefully hidden detective underneath as his eyes scan Eli when he stands.

"Yes sir?" Eli stutters and I wince.

You're looking guilty, Eli.

"Detective Marcus Caine, I'm on the team investigating the disappearance of your friend, Derrick Morgan-."

I resist the urge to cringe.

Why do they keep lumping us together as his 'friends'?

"-could you step this way and we'll talk? I'd like to make sure that I'm covering all the possibilities with this," the detective says as he slowly starts to lead Eli away.

"Um, sure," Eli says as he casts a quick glance over his shoulder before he walks off with the detective.

Paxon and I don't say anything to each other, instead, we fall into silence as the background noise of the station washes over us. I don't break my stare from the windows as I watch cars drive by. I get a text after a while and I check to see that it's one from my mother.

"Can you pick your brother up from the Y?"

"When?" I text as I look in the direction of where Eli and the detective had left.

"In a half an hour."

"I might be able to...the police wanted to question me about Derrick, I'm at the police station right now."

"I thought you didn't like Derrick?"

I lock my jaw at the text since it's a terrible thing to have on my phone right now.

"I don't mom, but I'll explain later when I get home," I send the text and tuck my phone back into my purse.

"Do you think they've talked to Olivia yet?" Paxon asks in a low voice.

A frown has edged his lips and I can't help but panic a little when I think about how Olivia will be questioned if she hasn't been already.

"I...I don't know," I murmur right as the detective and Eli return to the waiting room.

"If you remember anything else, please be sure to give me a call," the detective urges Eli as he hands him his card.

Eli nods mutely, his eyes wide as he sits back down next to Paxon.

"Danica?" the detective ventures as I nod and get to my feet.

"I have to pick up my brother soon, but I'll tell you what I remember," I reply in an easy tone as we start walking.

I can feel his eyes on me as I walk and try not to let any emotion show on my face as I keep it blank.

You did nothing to Derrick, you have to act innocent.

The detective stops by a door and opens it to reveal a small, quaintly decorated room. There's a close-up picture of a red poppy mounted on the wall and two olive green chairs sit in the corner with a small table to separate them.

"Have a seat," he tells me.

I do as he says and settle against the scratchy fabric of the chair. I fold my hands in my lap and cross my legs as I try to imagine that I'm at a job interview as he sets his moleskin journal on the tabletop.

I wonder what he could have written down in it, if he's maybe got an idea as to who could have possibly hurt Derrick.

What qualities do you have?

Well I obviously didn't kill Derrick if that's what you're insinuating.

Excellent, you're free to go.

"So what can you tell me about Derrick Morgan?" Detective Caine asks and I blink away my thoughts.

I hesitate before I answer, but only for a moment, "I know he has a lot of enemies."

Detective Caine tilts his head at this and I know then that this is the first time he's heard it.

Good, you have the upper hand now.

"How's that?" he asks.

I think on my words before I open my mouth, "He's not exactly innocent of not hurting anyone," I bite out.

"Can you elaborate?" Detective Caine asks as his eyes narrow thoughtfully.

Tell him what he did, tell him what Derrick did to Olivia. What he did to you and everyone else at that party, my mind screams but I stop.

My palms are abruptly sweaty and I hate myself for it as I swallow against a lump in my throat.

But if you tell him what Derrick did to you, you're going to look guilty.

"I've only heard rumors," I lie, "a lot of the football players don't like him."

"Any specific names?" he asks as he clicks his pen and makes a few notes in his journal.

"Adam Phase," I say before I can stop myself and his eyes flick up to mine, "Noah Baker, they've got a grudge against him."

Detective Caine nods as he writes down a few things, "And where did you go the night of your get-together with Derrick? I was told you left in the middle of it?"

"I went to check on Olivia," I say and it's the truth.

"Did you see Derrick at all?" he asks and I don't hesitate as I meet his gaze.

"No," I lie.

****

It takes twenty minutes but it feels like two hours until Detective Caine finally wraps up his questioning and dismisses me with a smile and a handshake as he passes me his card.

"If you remember anything else, let me know," he says and I nod as my heart hammers incessantly in my chest.

Runrunrun.

"I will," I manage to croak as we walk back out to the lobby.

Paxon glances in my direction as we approach and I spare him a wave as I turn and head for the doors, not bothering to pace myself because I have an excuse to rush. I can breathe easy at last as I slip out into the cooling, evening air. I pause for a second to breathe it in before I keep moving.

My Jetta still sits parked along the curb as I resist the urge to break into a run. I clench my hands into fists, the key for my car digging into my palm to ground me as I walk.

I check my phone for texts to see that one from Matt is waiting for me.

"Are you going to pick me up or should I start walking now?"

"Heading your way now," I reply, only to have my phone buzz again.

"They didn't lock you up in jail?" he teases and I roll my eyes as I open the door to my car and toss my phone into the passenger's seat.

I get in and turn the music up as loud as it will go after I start my car, if only to keep my thoughts silent and my mind from running wild as I drive. I try not to think about anything, so how I'm able to manage to make it to the YMCA on the far side of town? I have no idea.

Matt is sitting on a bench out front, a basketball propped in his lap as I pull up and honk. He bounds over to the car to get in as he puts my phone in the cup-holder and buckles in.

"I was kidding," he mutters.

"I know."

"I thought you weren't going to pick me up."

I roll my eyes as I stop at an intersection, "Mom would be pissed if I made you walk home."

"True."

"You wanna get ice cream? It's on me."

I glance over at him after I'm met with a long moment of silence. His eyes are wide as he stares at me and begins to violently tug on the door handle.

"Let me out."

"Why?"

"Who are you and what did you do with my sister?" he says as he lets out a high pitched shriek and I wince.

"Quit it," I mutter, "just pick an ice cream flavor."

"Wait, can I do two?" he asks as he stops pulling on the handle, his attention focused on the prospect of ice cream.

"That costs extra," I point out, "you can get sprinkles, but no second flavor. Pick. One."

"Uhhhh, chocolate, no wait, birthday cake with rainbow sprinkles," he says and I nod.

"I can do that."

We ride in silence as I drive to our favorite ice cream place, which isn't too far away from the Y. The pink neon lights that rim the edge of the building are lit up, along with the parking lot lights as the sun has started to set in the distance to stain the sky a vibrant shade of orange. I pull into the lane for the drive thru, a silver minivan sitting in front of us as I press on the brakes and hold them.

I check my phone.

There's a text from Mila in my inbox but I ignore it and instead text Paxon.

"They let you go yet?"

I don't get a reply after a few minutes as Matt suddenly clears his throat and I look up. His eyes are a lighter blue than mine, but in this light they look gray as he watches me thoughtfully. He's not even a teenager yet but in this moment, he looks smarter. Wiser.

"You're taking me here to distract me," he deduces after a long pause of us staring each other down.

"I'm not-."

"Dani, did you...did you see something happen to Derrick?"

His eyes narrow at this and I feel like I'm being analyzed as my throat dries up.

I don't get the chance to answer since the minivan moves and I pull up to order our ice cream. I dig in my purse for the cash once I've finished ordering and it's an easy way for me to hide my shaking fingers.

I don't look at him as I drive up to the first window to pay.

I can feel him watching my every move as I pay the cashier and take my change, which I drop into my wallet before I answer.

"No," I tell him.

And it's the second time I've lied today.