My shoulders tense. Peter? Why does he want to talk now? Does he know about my stepdad?
No. There’s no way he knows. I watched Cash paint the body in primer last night.This way, it won’t stink as bad,he said.But I promise you, Remedy. We’re in this together.
I have to stay calm. Anxiety is getting the best of me, and I can’t let it control me. I straighten my fingers, rubbing my palms against my pants. Why would Peter suspect me of anything?
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be right over.”
A low dull pain grows in my stomach. I pay for the cake and take it home before heading to the police station. The department is in a salmon building with sea foam green diamonds patterned across the edges. I haven’t been here in years, not since my mom first told them about my stepdad.
But they didn’t do anything back then. This won’t be the exception.
Cash promised me that we’re in this together. We’re safe.
I walk slowly to the front desk, my feet sticking to the ground with each step. It’s hard to move forward. The clerk looks up from the computer, smiling at me.
“I was told to come in for questioning?” I mumble.
“And you are?”
“Remedy Basset.”
“Ah! Yes. Follow me.”
She takes me to a room to the side of the building. There’s a mirror on one wall and a window on the other, showing the main lobby. A water cooler hums in the corner, and a metal table splits the room in half.
“Coffee?” she asks. I shake my head. I’m too nervous to drink anything, even water.
A few minutes later, Peter bursts through the doors, a casual hand running through his reddish-blond hair. He gives me a side hug.
“How are you doing, Remmie?” he asks, taking the chair in front of me. “Have you been here long?”
“Not at all,” I say. “I’ve heard horror stories about how long they’ll make you wait.”
“I’m not going to go through those games with you. You’re too smart for that.” He tilts his head, giving me a quick smile. Then his face shifts, dropping the playfulness; he’s ready for business. “You’re working for Mr. Winstone these days, yes?” he asks. I nod. “Are you his only personal assistant?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have any other house staff?”
I lift my shoulders. “He fired them before he hired Jenna.”
“Huh. Why’d he fire them?”
My cheeks flush red. “I guess he thought they weren’t very good.”
“And why did Jenna leave the job?”
I sink down into my chair. Have I already said something I’m not supposed to say?
“You’ll have to ask Jenna,” I say.
“Or you can save me the trouble.”
I keep my head down. I want to protect JennaandCash. How can I get through this next part without lying?
But Jenna doesn’t need to be protected. She hasn’t done anything wrong.
But Cash and me? We murdered my stepdad.