Erin hesitated, then finally said, “No. Not outright.”
“So you’re lying. Again.” I was ready to call the cops back.
“After the thing with Free, the money didn’t last long. Desiree was ready to hit someone else. I told her to be patient, but she was anxious. I’m not sure if she liked the money or the power. We spoke about the accident, that she had blacked out but wasn’t driving. It was something she mentioned in passing but didn’t really want to talk about. Then a couple of months ago something happened. She suddenly got mad, was asking me how to get money out of the real driver. I told her it was a waste of time. We got into a fight, and she never brought it up again.”
“Then why do you think it was Zarah?”
“She was there that night.”
“A lot of people were there. It was a party.” I conveniently ignored that I’d been just as adamant it was Erin with just as little proof moments before. “You think Desiree tried to blackmail Zarah and instead Zarah killed her.”
More statement than question. She realized it too because she opened her mouth, then shut it again. Finally, she formed words. “She was there.”
“Yes, but even if Zarah was driving, why lie about it? And why kill Desiree over the truth? Desiree got a slap on the wrist. Zarah would’ve had the same lawyers. Gotten the same sentence.”
“That slap destroyed your sister’s career. Zarah just hit ten million followers. She’s not doing sponsored content. She’s got actual endorsements. A makeup line.”
She sounded convincing. But still. “If you’re so sure it was Zarah, why haven’t you told the police?” I said.
“Because I needed proof.” Erin pointed to the phone in my lap. “That’s why I kept Desiree’s phone when I realized she’d accidentally left it at the hotel that night. Desiree started hanging with Zarah the same time she started talking about the accident again. And I heard them arguing the night she died. Zarah kept saying she was sorry. That it was her fault.”
That was news. “Was this before or after your fight with Desiree?”
She didn’t blink. “I was still hooking up with Billy. Freck’d caught me texting him right before we went out. She didn’t like him any more than you do. Like I said, she was a good friend. She’d be happy to know I actually did hook up with someone else that night.” She laughed, then caught herself when she saw my expression. “I’m telling you the phone is key,” she said.
“Why not give the phone to the police? How do I know blackmail wasn’t your idea? Still is your idea.”
“I didn’t give the police the phone for the same reason you haven’t told them your suspicions. I don’t trust them. There has to be something in that phone. Been driving myself up the wall trying to figure out the passcode. You can only put in five attempts before you get a one-minute time-out. You fuck up the sixth time? Five-minute time-out. Seventh time? Fifteen minutes. You get it wrong ten times? Erases the data completely. Needless to say it’s been taking me a while.”
It served her right.
“Maybe you’ll have better luck,” she said.
“I doubt it.” If she could lie to me, I could most definitely lie to her. I glanced down and the phone woke up. Desiree’s smiling face staring right at me. Knowing what was behind that smile made me feel the same as not knowing what was behind the lock screen—both feelings scared me.
Aunt E came back in, using Kitty like a cane. She wasn’t aware of the turn the convo had taken. “That was Tam. The police closed Desiree’s case. It’s officially an accidental overdose.”
Of course they did. I was surprised they’d waited this long. They’d had their minds made up from the moment they found her body.
Aunt E was still going. “We’re free to get Desiree’s car and things. She wanted to know if we could pick it up since we’re so close to the police station.”
I stood up. “Sure thing.” The one silver lining was that I could finally get my hands on Desiree’s belongings.
Erin stood too. “Guess I should probably go…”
She trailed off as if waiting for me to offer my spare bedroom complete with turn-down service. The only reason I wasn’t calling the police back was because I knew she’d use the opportunity to trash Desiree. But there was no way I could let her stay in this house. I didn’t care how apologetic she seemed. I didn’t trust her. Not anymore.
But Aunt E spoke first. “If you nee—”
For once I cut her off. We could argue about it after Erin was long gone. “Great,” I said. “I’m sure you have somewhere else to go.”
I doubted she could afford a hotel room, which meant she probably couldn’t afford a plane ticket. And it wasn’t like she had her car.
“I can stay with Starr. I just need my stuff.”
“You can wait outside. I’ll bring it out.”
“And my keys?”
“You don’t need them. Your car’s been repossessed.”
I headed toward the front door, ignoring Erin’s surprise and Aunt E’s disappointment.
*
Erin had claimed she kept her Louis Vuitton weekend bag in her car so she could hop on a flight whenever she wanted. Lie number 4,376,371. Both she and her designer luggage would be Starr’s problem tonight.
I placed Desiree’s phone on my kitchen counter as I walked to the back of my apartment. Erin hadn’t opened the curtains in the guest room so it was as dark as night. I didn’t bother with the light switch. I was on a mission. I could make out shadows of all the stuff she’d spread out on my dresser. Looking at it now, even in the dark, it was clear she had been planning a lengthy stay.
There was a dark lump on a chair in the corner that had to be her Louis Vuitton. I tripped over what I was sure was a designer heel. I picked the bag up. Of course, it was practically empty. Its contents were spread all over the room.
I grabbed earrings. Jars of moisturizer. Even dirty panties I picked up with an eyeliner pencil. The whole lot thrown back into the bag. I didn’t even check if the assorted bottles, palettes, and compacts were all the way closed. It’d serve her right to get foundation all over everything. I hoped her card got declined when she went for dry cleaning.
Once all traces of Erin were packed up, I went downstairs. She was waiting in the driveway, talking up Ms. Paterson of all people. I didn’t say anything. Just left the bag on the front stoop and locked the door behind me. I set the alarm, even put on the chain.
Aunt E opened her door as I was heading up the stairs. “Is this all worth it? You haven’t been sleeping. Haven’t been eating. Haven’t been acting like yourself.”
My back was to her so I rolled my eyes. She sounded like Mel. If she accused me of acting like Desiree, I would rip out both my braids.
“I’m okay,” I said.
“Are you?”
I didn’t answer her—because I didn’t know.
After a moment she kept on. “You didn’t have to kick that girl out like that.”
Aunt E had spent three decades working in a high school cafeteria, dishing out compassion along with lunch specials. She had cheered the ones who graduated. Cheered the ones who didn’t. I wasn’t surprised she felt bad for Erin.