The Thrashers(81)

Harding blinked at her, like she was genuinely taken aback. Jodi felt like there was something she was missing.

“They died in such similar manners. I’m just asking if you were affected by that in particular,” Harding said.

Jodi stared at her. Similar manners. She didn’t understand …

Harding continued softly, “Because your mother died by suicide.”

Her veins turned solid. Her vision blurred and returned.

“My mother drowned.”

Yang looked up. Harding went still. Buechler cleared his throat. “Right,” he said, stretching the vowel, “but after an overdose. In the bathtub.”

“It wasn’t an overdose,” Jodi snapped. “She—she’d taken pain pills for her back—she’d been in a car crash a month before—” She knew this story like her own heartbeat. “My mother had a glass of wine to relax in the tub and accidentally fell asleep and slipped under. She drowned.”

The click of a pen. Three pairs of eyes burrowing into her like needles under her skin.

“Cause of death was drowning, yes.” Detective Harding nodded and turned pages in her folder. “You can’t remember it, of course, but it must have been very traumatic to hear about when you were older.” Harding’s eyes slid up to hers. “You’ve been told that you were in the tub with her?”

“Yes.” Jodi’s voice was a thin wire to the other side of the table.

“And your father … broke down the door when he heard you crying and splashing—”

“I know the story.” Her pulse was racing.

“Because she had the door locked,” Harding finished softly.

There was something in her gaze underneath her dark fringe. Pity and condescension, like she was explaining something to Jodi.

“My mother drowned. It was an accident.”

“Did you ever tell Emily how your mother died?”

Jodi couldn’t breathe.

The leather on the chair beneath her, sweating just like the bus seats.

Harding’s cool eyes searching for something inside of her, like sky blue ones used to.

I’ll protect you.

“Yes, I did. It was one of the things she pressured me into telling her about myself. She was good at that.”

“So you’ve said.” Buechler sat forward. “Did Emily know your mother killed herself?”

“She didn’t—”

“You told her the details though? Pills. Wine. Bathtub.”

“I did. She pried them out of me.”

“Did Emily ever show any … abnormal interest in how your mother died?”

Jodi squinted. “Abnormal.”

“Did she ask you to repeat the story, did she ask for more detail, did she bring it up often?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I only told her once, and I said afterward that I didn’t want to talk about it again.”

“And one last question, Miss Dillon,” Buechler said. “Do Julian Hollister, Paige Montgomery, Lucy Reed, or Zackary Thrasher know the details of your mother’s death? The pills, the bathtub. Could they have encouraged Emily to replicate it?”

“No. They don’t know the details. Any of them.” She forced the words out of her, hating how small they made her feel.

Harding clicked her pen closed, like a hammer against a stubborn nail.

Jodi stood on wobbly knees and grabbed her bag. Somehow she got down the hall, twisting around the check-in desk, and out into the sunlight. She started walking, unsure where the bus stop was.

Because your mother died by suicide.

She felt like a fool. How many times had she thought about her mother dying, how many times had she asked Rosa to tell her the story … and it never occurred to her why the bathroom door was locked.

Jodi’s feet stopped. Her stomach roiled, and she swallowed back bile.

If her mother had wanted to die, then why was Jodi in the tub?

A text pulled her focus. It was from Julian.

im parked on the corner if you want a ride. the gang is at chavez park

She wiped her wet eyes. They wanted information. Of course they did. Thirty minutes ago, she would have wanted to give it to them. Now …

She walked down a block until a black truck appeared on the street.

“How was it?” he asked as soon as she shut the door.

She hesitated by putting on her seat belt. “Fine. They still don’t know what you texted her.”

He stared at her for too long a moment without putting the truck in gear, so she prompted, “Cesar Chavez Park?”

“What did they say to you? Why do you look like that?”

“Let’s just go to the park,” she said. “So I don’t have to repeat myself.”

Cesar Chavez Park had one safe corner to it, next to the street vendors selling to the downtown commuters. That’s where they found the rest of them—including Kiera, Jodi was irritated to find out.

“Hey!” Zack said. “How did it go?”

Jodi tried to smile. “It was okay.” Her hands shook as she pushed her hair out of her face. Her eyes caught on Kiera, who had no business hearing what happened in her deposition. “There’s nothing really new to report.”

Lucy opened her mouth to ask more, but Julian cut her off. “Let’s get food. We can talk about it over burgers.”