His uniform fills the room when he walks in, and my stomach churns, but I remind myself this is Roger, my mom’s old boyfriend, who used to give me chocolate bars and let me run the emergency lights on his car. He’s not even wearing his hat like usual. Like he was when he came rushing into the diner Friday night. I give my room a self-conscious once-over as he and my mom shuffle to make room for each other. There’re no dirty dishes lying around or underwear left out, but I still pull the covers closer around me. It’s probably impossible to feel entirely comfortable with a uniformed cop in your bedroom.
“Sonia, how are you feeling?”
I pull my knees up, but I’m not sure how to answer.
“I’m sorry, I know this is hard. It’s been a tough couple of days.” He nods at my desk chair. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
I shake my head. He perches on the edge of the purple chair and I think how Gretchen would spin lazily in it, pushing herself with one foot. I have to look away.
“I’m sorry it’s so late. I kept meaning to stop by earlier to at least see how you were doing.” He wrinkles his brow. “Your mom told you about Marcus Perez?”
I look at my mom leaning against the doorframe. She gives me an anxious nod. I swallow hard, wondering where this is going. “Yeah, she said you guys had to let him go. Does that mean he definitely didn’t do it?” My heart quickens. “Do you have another suspect?”
“It just means we’ve got to be extra vigilant to try and figure out exactly what happened the other night.” He clears his throat, but this is so vague, I want to yell. “Listen, I know we went over what happened to you Friday, but because we talked before we knew—before Gretchen was found—I wanted to go over the details again.”
I knot my fingers under the covers. “Okay, I’ll try.”
“Thanks, Sonia. I know this isn’t easy.” He pulls a notebook from his pocket and looks at my mom. “We’ll keep it as brief as possible.”
She nods, but she doesn’t leave.
“I have here that you drove Gretchen back to her house from a party at Brianne Prashad’s around eleven o’clock Friday night,” the sheriff says.
I nod.
“You were driving her car and you were the designated driver?”
I squirm, looking at my lap. It feels wrong to acknowledge my friends’ drinking to his face, but the sheriff isn’t stupid. “Yes. Our curfews weren’t until midnight, but she and Kirsten had a fight and Gretchen wanted to go home.”
“That’s right . . . Kirsten said you all arrived together, but you and Gretchen left without her.”
My face goes hot. “We shouldn’t have. Kirsten was drunk.”
“Was Gretchen?”
I shake my head. “She might’ve had a beer or two—that’s why I drove—but Gretchen wasn’t really a big drinker.”
Sheriff Wood looks at me. “So, what was the fight about?”
I bite my lip. “I actually don’t know.” Gretchen almost never let her little sister tag along when we went out. I was surprised she let Kirsten come that night, but it wasn’t a shock that they ended up fighting. Leaving Kirsten drunk at Brianne’s seemed harsh though, even for Gretchen. “She barely spoke once we were in the car.”
The sheriff raises his eyebrows. “Really? Not even to confide in her best friend?”
“She never liked to talk when she was mad.” I stare at the floor. There’s been chatter that Gretchen found Marcus and Kirsten hooking up, but it’s so hard to believe, I can’t bring myself to repeat it. “I—I heard a rumor the fight had something to do with Marcus.”
He makes a few notes, but this doesn’t seem to surprise him.
“Okay. Gretchen’s phone records show she called her house at 11:04 p.m. and someone there answered. Do you know if she spoke to anyone?”
I furrow my brow. “No, she didn’t call anyone from the car.”
“Are you sure about that, Sonia?”
“Yes. Like I said, she was upset. She hardly said a word the whole drive. She must’ve made the call after she was home . . . but why would she do that?”
He jots a bunch of stuff down and ignores my question. “You said before that you parked Gretchen’s car in front of her house and she went inside. What happened next?”
I look up, uncertain. We already went over this on Friday night. “Nothing right away. I ran into Haley Jacobs walking her dog. We talked a few minutes, then I started home through the park.”
“Did you have Gretchen’s keys with you then?”
“No, I gave them back to her.”
“Are you sure, Sonia?”
“Positive. Her parents were at a benefit that evening. She couldn’t have gotten into her house without them.”
Sheriff Wood’s face is stern. “Did you actually see Gretchen go inside her house?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see her come back out?”
I frown. “No.”
“Do you know if Gretchen was planning to go anywhere else after you dropped her off?”
I shake my head slowly. “No, she said something about taking a bath and going to bed.”
He flips the page of his notebook and I wonder when this will be over. When it will be my turn to ask questions. “So you started walking home on the main path through the park, straight down from Gretchen’s house, right?”
“Right. That’s the route we’ve always taken.”
“Did you stop anywhere along the way?”
“Not until I got to the bridge.” My voice wavers.