The Thrashers(5)

The blond cop helped them into the second car as a crowd formed on the lawn. In the quiet as the cop came around to the driver’s seat, Zack whispered, “Don’t say anything.”

She jerked her head in a nod. Her mind flew through the possible reasons for this, dismissing each as more unlikely than the last, but circling around one explanation like suds in a drain.

And so softly—to himself almost—Zack breathed, “This is about Emily.”





Chapter Two





Jodi and Zack were silent the whole ride. She tried to make eye contact with him, but he gazed out the window, biting the inside of his cheek. Jodi couldn’t stop staring at the metal grate separating the front seat from the back—separating the cops from the criminals. Her heart hammered in her chest as the car parked in front of a sign for the Sacramento Police Department. The cop swiftly stepped out and opened the door for them.

She’d never been to the police station. She’d never been arrested. She wasn’t under arrest now. Jodi’s mind spun as they climbed the steps to the building, but—the cop had said “a few questions” when talking to Zack. They hadn’t been cuffed.

The fluorescent lights inside the police station made her eyes water as the cop led them past the front desk, through the metal detectors, and back to a waiting area where Julian, Lucy, and Paige were already seated.

“Wait here.” The cop pointed to the chairs and walked away.

Lucy tilted her head, her arms crossed and her legs stuck out in front of her, taking up as much space as possible with a vicious look in her eyes. Next to her, Julian was texting with a downward twist to his lips. Paige brushed a tear from her cheek. She was still barefoot, her shoes lost at the Vallow house.

Dropping into the only open chair, Jodi took Paige’s hand as it bounced on her knee. Paige flashed her a thin smile.

It was quiet except for the squeak of a chair at the front desk. She focused on the smell of burnt coffee and the warmth of Paige’s hand.

Zack paced in front of them, running his fingers through his hair. Suddenly his hand went to his pocket, before he looked up to Julian. “My phone’s still dead. Can you—”

“Your dad is on his way.”

Taking a deep breath, Zack nodded in thanks.

Zack’s dad was a lawyer. One of the best in town. Jodi knew this because he didn’t need bench ads or billboards off I-5. He did criminal cases, but she couldn’t remember which kind.

Paige snatched her hand back and started biting her thumbnail. “I don’t have to call my mom, do I?”

“We’re minors,” Lucy said. “We shouldn’t be here. We could probably leave.”

“Okay,” Jodi said. “Can we go then?”

Julian sighed. “He said he’d Breathalyze us and ticket us for underage drinking. Best to figure out what this is about before we try to go anywhere.”

“But we’re not, like … under arrest, right?” Paige asked. “This isn’t on our record or … God, I dunno.”

“We’re not under arrest.” Lucy stood and shook out her shoulders. She looked at Jodi. “Jodi, you should go.”

Jodi felt all eyes turn on her. “What?”

“You didn’t drink. You should take the Breathalyzer and walk out of here.”

She stared at Lucy, her mouth opening and closing. “And what? Walk home?”

“Call an Uber. Or, I’ll call one for you.” Lucy whipped her phone out of her pocket.

Jodi frowned. “I’m not leaving you guys. Let’s just find out what they want. Stick together, or whatever.”

She turned her eyes on Zack. He was staring at Lucy, his jaw working as his gaze seemed to communicate something with her.

A door opened, and all five of them turned at the sound.

A slender Asian woman in a tight pantsuit clicked her way into the room on four-inch heels. Her dark hair was pulled back into a severe, yet youthful, ponytail. With her was a young officer with peach fuzz who stood a few paces back. She scanned the five of them and planted her feet.

“‘The Thrashers.’ What a pleasure.” When her eyes landed on Jodi, she felt ice licking down her spine. “I’ll take Barefoot and Box-Dye first. Look for some sandals or something in lost and found,” she said to the officer.

Jodi narrowed her eyes at the woman once she realized that Box-Dye was her.

Zack jumped up. “Miss, can I ask what this is about?”

“You can call me Detective Harding.”

He thrust his hand out. “Zack Thrasher. Good to meet you, Detective.”

Detective Harding glanced down at his hand before gripping it firmly. “Zack.”

“Are we under arrest or…?”

“No,” she replied with a thin smile. “Just a couple of questions, that’s all.”

“Are we legally allowed to leave, then?” Julian said.

Her gaze snapped to where he slouched in his chair, and she looked him over—from his styled, messy hair down to his designer tennis shoes. “I don’t know, Julian, are you legally sober?”

Jodi blinked at the bite in her words, and as Julian sat up taller, she realized Detective Harding had already known his name.

“How did you know to look for us at a St. Joseph’s party?” Paige asked.