Page 157 of Summers at the Saint
Slowly, he raised his head. Now he looked right at her, his eyes red-rimmed and full of self-pity. “I’m not anything like them,” he said.
“KJ. Could you tell me about what happened at the afterparty? With Parrish?”
He buried his head again. “I can’t talk about that.”
She waited. Looked up at the large clock on the wall. Heard it ticking, heard her own breath, in and out, in and out, synced to the second hand of the clock. KJ’s shoulders shuddered. And still she waited.
Minutes passed. He sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jumpsuit.
“It was a mistake,” he said, tears running down his cheeks. “A huge mistake.”
“Whose idea was it to drug Parrish?”
He shook his head again, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t… I mean, I need to call my dad. I don’t want to say anything else. Call my dad, please.”
He gave her the puppy-dog eyes again. “I’m so sorry. I never thought any of this would really happen. I was stoned. So was Garrett.”
There it was. The confession. She’d done what she’d been asked to do. But she had more questions.
“The next day, you went back out to the Shack, pretending to look for Parrish, even though you knew she was dead. And thenyou and Garrett got rid of any evidence. Cleaned things up nice and neat, didn’t you?”
His face had turned to stone. He pointed toward the window. “Call my dad. I want a lawyer!”
“Where did Charlie and Garrett go?” Traci persisted. “Where are they now?”
He shrugged and looked at the ceiling.
“I think you know, KJ,” she said. “Why protect them? They ran off and left you behind. Probably the two of them are splitting the money you three stole from me.”
KJ sniffled again and wiped his nose on the other shoulder of his jumpsuit.
She pointed at the mirror. “There’s a detective behind that glass. He’s recorded everything you just told me, including your confession to theft, arson, attempted arson, and a bunch of other stuff. I’m no lawyer, KJ, but I do know that Georgia is a death penalty state. You might want to think about that.”
He stiffened. “I didn’t kill anybody. I want a lawyer.”
Traci exhaled. She’d done what she’d come here to do.
The door opened and Shapley stepped inside. He gave her a curt nod, then directed himself to KJ. “Does Garrett know where you are? How about Burroughs, the boss-man?”
“Lawyer,” KJ repeated. He put his head down on the table.
“I’ll walk you out,” Shapley said as they left the interrogation room. “I wouldn’t worry too much about Burroughs and Wycoff. I’ve had deputies posted outside the gates to your property since I spoke to your witnesses at the hospital. If he’s on that island of yours, we’ll find him.”
“They could be anywhere by now,” Traci said.
“We’ll catch them,” Shapley repeated. “Go home now.”
CHAPTER 69
The house was too quiet. Livvy had been asleep since they’d gotten home from the hospital. Shannon opened her daughter’s bedroom door and peeked inside.
She found her daughter sitting up in bed, scrolling on her phone. “Moooom,” Livvy groaned. “I’m alive, okay?” She held out her wrist. “Here. Take my pulse if you don’t believe me.”
“Can you blame me? You scared the living daylights out of me today. You could have been burned alive in that damn dorm.”
“But I’m okay. Can you please just chill?”
“Rude!” Shannon said, and she slammed the door and stomped out to the kitchen. The next thing she knew, she was calling Traci.
