“No can do.” Golden turned to Logan. “Gotta talk to each of you separately. It’ll only take a second.”
“She’s a minor,” Alejo said.
Deputy Golden hesitated. After a moment, he said, “I’m sorry. Sheriff’s orders.”
Logan swallowed. “Was it Bug?”
Deputy Golden said nothing, which meant it was.
Shadows danced at the edge of Logan’s vision. She was about to pass out. Across the parking lot, Sheriff Paris helped Ashley from the bench and took her to his police cruiser. They left the Bates in silence, disappearing on the highway toward the police station. The sky was heavy with gray cloud cover; it weighed down on her, pressing like fists to her shoulders.
“… What do you need to know?” Logan croaked.
Deputy Golden motioned to Logan’s motel room. They entered, and Logan fought the urge to hide the evidence that Ashley had been here. That they’d been here together when Bug died. That, for a second, things had been okay. She wanted to make the bed, to go back to the beginning of the night, to scrub the memory from the walls.
Deputy Golden shut the door behind them.
“Let’s start from the beginning.”
25
Let The Survey Show
“Should I get state police on the line?”
“I tried. They’re sending someone out this week.”
“This is an emergency.”
“They don’t think so.”
“Have we notified the family?”
“God, not yet. What do I say? Frank’s always done the notifications.”
“Frank, the county coroner is on the other line. Can you take him now?”
“Put him through to my voice mail. I’ll do the notification, I just need to talk to…”
Silence. Ashley felt Sheriff Paris turn his eyes on her. Everyone in the station turned their eyes on her. She kept staring into the brick wall across from her, tracing the mortar lines from the floor to the ceiling in aching detail. She needed to focus. Needed to block the rest of it out. She needed to keep her eyes open, because if she closed them, she’d see it again.
It’d only been a moment; she’d thought it was a nightmare at first, but now she knew. In the dark of the motel room, sometime between when she’d fallen asleep and when the police arrived, she’d seen her.
Bug.
Across the room, leaning against the makeshift desk in her dark green flannel, a braid of red hair drooped lazily over her shoulder. The room was laced with her—it even smelled like that perfume she bought from the mall in Ontario. She’d mouthed a word that Ashley couldn’t quite understand. Over and over, her mouth was long like a vowel, and then thin as a smile. She’d thought it was a name. But maybe Bug was still alive when she’d seen it, just outside the room, struggling to breathe. Maybe she was mouthing Help me.
Ashley was going to be sick.
“Ashley?” Becky said. She came around her desk and sat on the chair next to Ashley, lingering just on the edge of the seat like she wasn’t sure she was allowed. “Your mom is here. She wants to go with you for the questions. Is that okay with you?”
Ashley closed her eyes. Tammy Barton was going to skin her alive for lying about where she was last night, but that was better than being alone right now.
She nodded.
Becky stood and motioned to the front door of the station. A warm draft funneled into the lobby, accompanied by the signature click of Tammy’s heels. In a flurry, Tammy swept Ashley into a hug so tight it threatened to cut off Ashley’s airway.