Page 54 of That's Not My Name

When I don’t say anything, he pushes the recorder closer to me. “One more time, Drew. What happened to Lola after you broke up with her?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, suddenly more exhausted than I’ve ever felt in my entire life, but I answer his question. “She got out of the car and ran down the road. I went home.”

“That’s the truth? All of it?”

I let my hand drop. “It’s all the truth I have.”

He shuts off the recorder with a dismissive jab of his finger. “I’m glad you shared this with me. I’ll add it to the report.”

I stand. “Thanks. Sorry for coming in unannounced.”

“It’s late. Head straight home, okay?”

“Sure.”

I leave the precinct, and as soon as I’m past the front windows, I sprint around the block. Autumn and Max are standing side by side in front of the Liberty. Their faces go from panic to relief.

“Holy shit, Drew. I thought you were done for,” Max says.

Autumn points to her dad’s office window. “I about crapped my pants when he walked in there. What happened?”

“I talked my way out of it.”

“How?” they ask in unison.

“Doesn’t matter. We need to get the hell out of here and see what’s on those recordings before someone busts us with that USB.”

“Let’s go to my place,” Autumn says, pulling open the passenger door. “My dad’s on shift until four. The house is empty.”

I nod and climb back into the driver’s seat. Max hands me the keys from the backseat—grumbling about how he should at least get shotgun in his own damn car, but we ignore him.

I park a little ways from Autumn’s house in an alley where people stash their trash containers, and we hurry down the sidewalk before any of the neighbors see us.

She ushers us inside and slaps at a light switch. Overhead lights illuminate a wide living room with vaulted ceilings, a sectional, two beanbag chairs, and a TV over a fireplace. I’ve never been inside Autumn’s house before. We always ended up at Lola’s. The shadow of a kitchen stretches out to the right, but she leaves those lights off and flops on the couch. “Well, that was stressful.”

Max flings himself into one of the beanbags, and half his lanky body’s swallowed by the chair. “I can’t believe we did it. We’re like…secret agents. Man, I’m so hyped. I could stay up all night. I’m not even tired.”

“Good, because we’re probably going to need all night to listen to these recordings,” I say. “Give me the USB.”

His mouth drops open. “What? I thought you had it?”

All the blood drains from my face. “Youlostit?”

He barks out a laugh. “Just kidding.”

I imagine the wheeze his lungs would make if I tackled him. “I’m going to kill you for that. Roane will finally have a real reason to arrest me.”

Autumn rolls her eyes and gets up. “You two are annoying. I’ll get my laptop. Try not to get any blood on the sofa.”

I stare him down. “Give me that USB or I’m going to punch you.”

“You’re killing my secret agent high.” He fishes around in his pocket and produces it with two fingers. “There. Happy?”

I snatch it away from him. “I’ll be happier when this tells us something.”

“Me too,” Autumn says, reappearing with a laptop in a purple, blue, and black galaxy cover. She props it on the cushion in the middle of the sectional, and I hand her the USB. The recordings load, and she presses play.

The computer speakers fill the room with a whiny teenage voice. “Hi, hey, hi. Is this the tip line? I have a tip for you. Check the mall. She’s super stuck up. I hope she never—”

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