“People are saying she’s made some harsh comments about Rose since she’s been missing.”
I try to choose my words carefully. “Alice is a loyal friend and yeah, Rose annoys her, but it’s not a big deal.”
More scribbling on the pad. I knew Alice’s mouth was going to get her in trouble.
“What can you tell us about the last time you spoke to Rose?”
“I told you, Rose and I didn’t speak.”
He nods, glancing at the Detective. “Well, that’s where things get complicated, Kenley. There’s an eyewitness that says a car matching the description of your vehicle, a 2016 Honda Accord, was on the bridge shortly before Rose’s car was discovered.”
My heart jumps in my throat.
“That’s not possible. I was at the bonfire. You can ask anyone.”
“We plan to, but it was also very crowded that night. Are you sure you didn’t sneak off at some point?”
“What? No.” I can’t believe what they’re asking. “Rose and I weren’t friends. Even if I saw her on the bridge, I would have no reason to stop.”
Again, the Detective scribbles something in her notepad. I lean forward, and she shifts away. “Kenley, we’re not accusing you of anything. We’re just trying our best to get a good, accurate timeline on what happened that night on the bridge. Are you sure you weren’t there?”
“Positive. I had to be at the bonfire early to set up the yearbook table. We sell water. Once the bonfire started, I was taking pictures.” I reach under the table for my camera. “They should be time stamped.”
Chief McMichael takes the camera from me, flipping through the images.
“Any idea why your car would have been seen on the bridge that night? Does anyone else have access to it?”
I think back to that night and everything that went on, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. I open my mouth and then snap it shut.
“Kenley, do you know something that could help us?”
“I let someone borrow my car that afternoon—to go get ice for the coolers.” I swallow, fidgeting in my seat. “She didn’t get back until right before the bonfire started.”
I remember her coming in that night, with the bag of ice, already halfway melted, then tucking the key in my back pocket.
Detective Belcher leans across the table, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “Who?”
“Alice.”
18
Finn
Detective Jones meets me at the door and gestures for me to sit. He takes Mr. Russell’s chair, and it’s odd to see someone other than my principal sitting behind the desk.
“How are you holding up?” the Detective asks. He’s young—maybe mid-twenties. Dark hair and a trimmed beard.
“Okay, I guess.” Other than the fact my girlfriend of three years has gone missing, I’m strangely focused on the girl next door, and everything in my life feels out of control. “Any news?”
“The foot search just started. It took about an hour to get everyone trained and sorted into groups. Other than that, not much has changed.” He raises an eyebrow. “You haven’t heard anything from Rose, have you?”
I shake my head. “No. Nothing.”
“Tell me again when you spoke to her last?”
I say what I’d already told police. “We talked the night before the first day of school.”
“And what did you talk about?”