The Thrashers(8)

She tilted her head at Jodi. “You don’t?”

The door burst open, banging off the wall. Jodi jerked back.

Gregory Thrasher, Zack’s dad, stood in the doorway, all six foot four of him. Even in dark jeans and a polo shirt, he looked like he could sway an entire jury with one flash of blue eyes.

“You’re done,” he bit out. “Let’s go, Jodi.” Just behind his shoulder, she could see Zack hovering in the hallway.

“Greg Thrasher, what a surprise,” Detective Harding singsonged.

“She’s a minor, Chelsea. They all are.”

“All of them?” She smiled, and her eyes flashed to Zack. “We were just having a conversation.” She shrugged. “She’s free to go.”

Mr. Thrasher reached for Jodi’s elbow, guiding her into the hallway. He spun back to the detective and hissed, “If you ever pull a stunt like this again—with my son—I’ll have you reported.”

Her wide red lips parted on a gleaming smile. “Always a pleasure, Greg.” She looked past him to Zack. “You look so much like your dad did in high school. See, we go way back.”

Greg spun on his heel and marched out toward the lobby, Zack following closely. Jodi gave one last look to Detective Harding, who was leaning on the doorframe. She winked at her, and Jodi scurried past.

The others were already waiting for them, including Paige’s mom, who always looked like she’d just stepped off the Peloton.

“Greg,” she said, tugging at the sleeves of her Lululemon zip-up. “What’s going on?”

“It’s all good, Cheryl. Let’s—” He glanced at the officers manning the phones and flipping through case files. “Let’s talk outside.”

Placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, Mr. Thrasher steered him out. Mrs. Montgomery walked with Paige and Lucy. Before she could follow, Jodi was slowed by a hand on her elbow. She looked up to see Julian matching her pace as they passed the metal detectors.

“What did she ask you?” he whispered.

Jodi almost stumbled, so unused to Julian Hollister touching her. She shrugged a shoulder. “Probably the same things she asked all of us. ‘How did you know Emily? Did you know she was going to kill herself—’”

“What did you say?” Julian squeezed her elbow, forcing her to slow.

Jodi ripped out of his grasp just as an officer stood from the front desk, saying goodnight to them with a curious look.

Julian smiled at him and wrapped his arm around her shoulders instead—like they were together or something. Jodi recoiled.

“Can you not?”

“What did you say?”

“I said I didn’t know!” She shook free of him and lengthened her strides to catch up with Paige and Lucy. Paige’s mom was with Mr. Thrasher in front of his BMW, speaking quietly while Zack stood off to one side.

“Are you both okay?” Jodi asked.

Paige nodded, but still looked about ready to cry.

Lucy shrugged. “Fine. I don’t think Detective Hardass likes me much.”

“Lucy didn’t say anything,” Paige told Jodi, awed. “She didn’t answer a single question. She just stared at her.”

“Hey.” Julian stepped up to them and jerked his head to Zack to call him over. “No texts. No DMs. Don’t put anything in writing.” He looked at Zack. “Right?”

Zack nodded. “Maybe vanish mode on Instagram or Snapchat messaging—I’ll have to ask my dad about it.”

Jodi squinted at them. “Isn’t that extreme? We’re not being accused of anything.”

“Sure we are,” Lucy scoffed. “A girl is dead because we didn’t invite her in our prom limo—”

“Luce,” Zack tried.

“You know that’s what they’re saying—”

“That’s not what happened though!” Jodi lowered her voice to a hiss. “Emily was unstable. She was strange. We all knew that. This isn’t our fault. We didn’t do anything to her to make her kill herself.”

It was quiet. Zack opened his mouth—and closed it.

“Is that what you told Harding?” Lucy asked.

Jodi blinked at her. “No. I didn’t say anything, really.”

“Kids!” Mr. Thrasher waved them over. “Let’s go. Paige and Lucy with Cheryl. The rest of you with me.”

Jodi trudged toward the Thrashers’ car under a flickering streetlamp. She slipped into the back seat next to Julian, and as she reached for her seat belt, she cast one more glance at the police station.

A figure in a high ponytail and blazer stood in one of the back windows, watching the parking lot as she sipped from her bright red mug.





Chapter Three





“You are minors. You have more protections than adults,” Greg Thrasher was saying from the driver’s seat. “You not only have the right to an attorney, but you have the right to your legal guardian.”

Jodi stared down into her lap, twisting the ring she wore around her thumb. She knew these things. She should have used her freaking brain and realized that she didn’t need to answer any questions without her dad there.

Zack was the only one who didn’t need a parent, and even then, he should have lawyered up. Though he’d always looked like the youngest of them, with his baby face and inviting blue eyes, Zack’s eighteenth birthday had been in March. He’d been held back when he was younger, repeating second grade and joining the class below—Jodi’s class. She’d been the only kid not to make fun of him for being “stupid.” Four years later, he’d been diagnosed with ADHD.