Eighteen

I was too shocked to speak, though a million thoughts were racing through my brain. “Who is that?” Omari asked. “Not Haley?”

Yes, Haley. Haley with the boyfriend problems. Haley who gave her friends good advice. Haley with the great life motto. You were supposed to control your peanut butter, not steal it. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut, snatched out my hair, said my mama was easy, and then revealed there was no Santa Claus. “You okay?” someone asked. It might have been Omari. I was too busy drowning in a sea of surprise to tell.

“Yes.” No. “Keep going.” I motioned to the video.

Emme hit play and Haley looked directly at the camera, as if realizing it had caught her. She jumped up, her arms disappearing into the inky blackness where they must have latched onto her shadowed accomplice. The person didn’t join her in the spotlight despite Haley trying her utmost. When her arms came back into the light, all she was holding was a baseball cap. The shadow figure ran away. Haley threw the hat down and chased after her elusive partner.

Video from another camera popped up. The first figure ran by, bags bouncing at his or her side. A second later, Haley followed him or her. Emme fast-forwarded, but it was the last we saw of either of them.

“What did I just watch?” I asked, still in disbelief.

“Motive for a murder,” Omari said. “Your girl and her partner were robbing rich people’s houses and had a big falling-out. Literally.”

He was right. I thought out loud. “The car used in Kandy Wrapper’s robbery was the one that killed Haley. And it seems like there’s only two robbers. One was Haley. So if Haley wasn’t driving the car, her partner was.” Then it hit me how I’d been right all along. “It wasn’t an accident. She was murdered, just like I thought.”

“By who, though?” It was the first time Emme had spoken, and it was a valid question.

I glanced back at the now blank screen. “The hat,” I said. “Neither of them came back, so the hat’s probably still outside.”

Omari was already heading to the door before I could finish speaking. Emme and I fell in line behind him. We ran to the living room and opened the door to the glass deck. It was still unlocked. We stepped outside, almost exactly where Haley had fallen. I looked a few feet to the left, saw the hat immediately, and went to pick it up.

“Don’t touch it. There might be prints!” Omari said.

He had a point. I did as requested. Instead, we all stared at it, revolted, as if it were a decaying animal carcass. It was maroon with the letters S and C intertwined in gold letters, the logo for the University of Southern California.

“I need to call Ben,” Emme said. “His number must be in there somewhere.”

She made her way inside, glancing back at the hat every few seconds like it might get up and walk away. Omari and I must’ve felt similarly. We stood as if guarding the President of the United States. We were like that for minutes until Omari finally spoke. “Whose is it?”

I thought I knew. “Her BFF, Marina. She did everything with Haley and doesn’t seem to own an item without the USC logo printed on it.”

“Makes sense. I doubt your girl just walked up to someone on the street and said, ‘Hey, let’s go rob some rich people.’ She would choose someone she trusted. A friend.”

“Or what was a friend,” I said, thinking back to the fight.

I liked Marina. I couldn’t picture her coming to blows any more than I could picture her running down her best friend in cold blood. But then again, a few minutes earlier I couldn’t picture Haley masterminding a string of celebrity home invasions. So what did I know?

“She have an alibi?” he asked.

“Don’t know, but I’m gonna find out.”

If this were some cheesy TV show, the screen would have cut to black so the network could spend the next five minutes trying to get you to buy toothpaste you already bought anyway. It wasn’t. Instead, Emme came back. “Ben’s calling the police. They won’t use their sirens.”

Two hours later, Emme and I were back at her place. Omari had dropped us off and regretfully gone home. He had an early call in the morning. True to his word, Ben had had the cops show up in an unmarked car. As impossible as it seemed with the Rack Pack being the talk of the town and all, the robbery would not be making the papers. Only someone with Toni’s standing could pull that off. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It was after midnight, but I’d left a message with the tip line about Haley being one half of the Rack Pack and Marina being her accomplice/possible murderer, to cover my bases. Aubrey had called me two more times and was greeted by voicemail on both occasions. I wasn’t avoiding him as much as not wanting to talk to him at that exact moment. Yes, I had new information, but it wasn’t like I’d seen the killer. I figured I could wait at least a day to call him back.

While I was avoiding calls, Emme had finally spoken with Toni. Of course, her assistant hadn’t given her the earlier message. Toni was more concerned about sentimental things being taken—like the necklace—than the free shoes and handbags she’d gotten from random designers. She wasn’t concerned enough to come back home, but she did make Emme promise to personally go through the house and find out exactly what was missing.

I’d told Emme I suspected Marina was Haley’s accomplice and wanted to investigate. For once, she didn’t object. Instead, she offered to help. Now that it was personal, I was no longer dumb for putting my life in danger by confronting a killer. I should’ve been mad, but in actuality I was happy for the help. I needed as much background on Marina as possible. No one was better at that than Emme.

She wasted no time getting started. “Let’s have some fun,” she said.

Only Emme would define fun as cyberstalking someone. Unfortunately, Marina didn’t come up in a search of the LAPD’s records. A background check also proved uneventful. Worse than that, she barely used her Facebook account.

So Emme delved deeper, even hacking into Marina’s bank account. Yes, it was illegal, but at least Emme was using her powers for good. She found Marina’s email address and tried to log into every bank website using the email and 1234 as the password. She finally got a hit on Wells Fargo’s site. It recognized the email address, but of course the password was wrong.

Emme took care of that in mere seconds, and we were logged into Marina’s account. “Her balance is $6,234?” I asked.

“And thirty-four cents.”

“How does a nineteen-year-old paying private school tuition and making minimum wage have that much money in her account?”

“Especially since four months ago her balance was six dollars.”

Any lingering doubts I had about Marina’s possible guilt went vamoose. I’d found my murderer. I just needed to prove it.

The only thing that stopped me from going to Clothes Encounters first thing the next morning was I didn’t know what to say to Marina. So I did what I normally did in these situations—talk to Sienna about it. Since I’d gotten home from Emme’s place after Sienna left for the club, I had to wait until the morning to give her an update. She was as shocked as I’d been. “So what should I say?” I asked.

“I know what you shouldn’t say. ‘Did you steal from famous people and then run down your best friend with a stolen BMW?’”

“Figured that was a bit too on the nose, as the screenwriters say,” I said.

Her eyes lit up. “Looking at it like a screenplay is actually a good idea. What do you want to get out of the scene?”

The last time I’d heard someone say that had been in acting class. This was way more fun. “To get Marina to go straight to the police station and say, ‘I confess, now give Dayna Anderson her $15,000 reward.’”

“That doesn’t even happen in the movies. You need to trick her into revealing something that’ll prove she did it. Let’s brainstorm.” Sienna got a pen and paper. “The most obvious way is to find out where she was the night Haley died. Was she with Haley?”

“She wouldn’t tell us if she was. I might be able to trick her into admitting something about one of the robberies.”

“Like Toni’s necklace!” Sienna said. “Far as she knows, the necklace is still safe and sound in storage, right?”

“Yep. Maybe I can ask her if anyone is selling something similar. Say I want it as a gift.”

“Perfect! And what about her bank account?”

It was a full minute before inspiration hit. “I’ll casually bring up all my student loan debt. Ask her how she’s paying for hers.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said.

That was easy. I went to grab my purse to go. About halfway to the door, I realized Sienna wasn’t behind me. “Aren’t you coming?” Her look said it all. “Oh. Montgomery.”

“We’re having a meeting, but we’ll be done by two at the latest if you want to wait that long.”

I didn’t. I was instantly annoyed. “Have fun. I’ll just go to meet a possible murderer on my own.”

“I could cancel.”

She may have said it, but she didn’t mean it. It was like when you’re on a date with a dude and you pretend to reach for your purse to pay knowing darn well he’ll stop you. Except I was going to make her pay. “Okay.”

I looked her dead in the eye. For the first time ever, I won a staring contest. “Are you sure you can’t wait until after my meeting?” she finally asked.

“I’ll be fine.” I headed to the door.

“Text me,” she called out after me. “You need to be careful if she killed her friend.”

I answered by slamming the door.

I seethed the entire trip to Clothes Encounters. That Montgomery guy was getting on my last nerve. I knew I was being a selfish baby, but like most selfish babies, I didn’t give a crap. The good thing was that by the time I got to Marina, any possible fear I may have had was replaced by anger with a pinch of jealousy mixed in, and I did my best when I was 85 percent mad and 15 percent jealous.

I marched into Clothes Encounters with purpose. Nat and Marina were standing by the counter. Both glanced in my direction when I walked in. Marina seemed happy to see me. She was all braces-adorned smiles. “Hey, Dayna!”

Nat, however, looked like she was afraid I would try to peer pressure her again. “Betty’s not back yet.” She sounded like I’d tried to force her to jump off a bridge, not give me one little name. Geez.

“I know. I’m here to shop.” I focused on Marina. “Where are your necklaces?”

Turned out they were in the other room. Way in the back. Marina accompanied me over. I would have preferred staying near the window, where any pedestrians strolling by would notice if Marina suddenly decided to become a serial killer. I had enough problems; I didn’t need to add being dead to that growing pile.

Since I didn’t have a choice in the matter, I took the risk. As we walked, I thought of the checklist Sienna and I had come up with: (1) Find out if she knows anything about the necklace. (2) See if she has any details about the other robberies. (3) Ask where she gets money for school. (4) Confirm she has no alibi for the night Haley died. “I’m looking for something simple,” I said. “Silver, not gold. A solitaire diamond if possible.”

“Sounds like something I’ve seen recently.”

Check one off the list.

We looked at the display. Not surprisingly, no such necklace was there. “Okay, maybe we sold it,” Marina said. “I’m sorry. I’ll definitely keep my eye out for anything similar.”

I followed her back to the main room, relieved to be with Nat and the other customers. Safety in numbers and all that. “Have a good weekend?” Marina asked, by way of small talk.

Sensing an opportunity, I threw myself at it like a groupie at a ball player. “I was at Toni’s. Her place is amazing.”

“I bet,” Marina said. “The view alone.” She knew where Toni lived. Check. “Just staring at the beach and the sunset every day.”

Beach? Sunset? “Where do you think she lives?” I asked as I pretended to look at clothes. I didn’t want to leave just yet so I needed a stalling tactic.

“I thought someone told me Toni Abrams lives in Malibu.” Marina turned to Nat, celeb-whore extraordinaire, for confirmation.

Nat looked startled by the random question, then realized what we were talking about. “Don’t they all? Either there or the Hills.”

She might have elaborated, but a customer had a question. Nat walked off to help her while I mentally erased the check mark and moved on to the next item on my list. “What about you?” I asked. “What did you do this weekend?”

“Worked.”

“It must be hard to juggle school and work. I have so many student loans, Navient is going to be sending statements to my grave. Hope you’re not in the same boat.”

“I was, but then I got some money from a relative. Not a lot, but it helped this semester.”

Nice try but something didn’t make sense. “So why are you still working here?”

“I actually quit,” she said. “I only came back after Haley died. Betty needed help, and I already knew the store … ”

“That was sweet of you. I’m impressed you’re balancing it all. I wouldn’t be able to if my best friend passed away. I wouldn’t even leave the house.”

“I don’t. Well, besides school and work,” she said. “Haven’t really felt up to going out. I just dread the idea of going to the spots we always went to and Haley not being there.”

I felt bad for her and had to remind myself that I was talking to a possible killer. I flashed on the checklist again. “You guys at least get a chance to hang out before she died?”

Marina shook her head. “I didn’t see her. She was supposed to hang out with Victory that night, but they were fighting as usual, so I don’t know if they did.”

“So you stayed at home?” No alibi. My mental pen was poised over my mental checklist, just a waiting.

“I went to a friend’s birthday party. A former coworker from here, actually. I kinda drank too much and sort of passed out on her couch.” She looked embarrassed as she said it.

Fudge. Marina had an alibi. “What’d you get her?”

Marina looked at me, confused, so I elaborated. “For her birthday. What’d you get this coworker?”

“Allie. I just picked her up something from here.”

I nodded. I didn’t know what to do at that point, so I made some lame excuse and left. As soon as my heel hit the sidewalk, I had my phone out and was texting Emme. Marina not looking good. Money came from relative & at bday party when Haley died. Friend named Allie. I was hitting send when I walked straight into what I thought was a short brick wall. “Ms. Anderson,” it said.

I looked up to find Aubrey staring at me. “Hey, Aubrey!!!” I was a bit too enthusiastic, but I was going for the offensive.

“I have been telephoning you, Ms. Anderson.” His voice was even more formal than usual. If this was his bad cop voice, he probably got plenty of confessions.

“And I’ve been meaning to call you back. Any leads from the storage unit?”

“Unfortunately, it was a dead end. If you had called me back, I would have told you that. I had some additional news for you as well.”

“Me too!”

He said nothing, then. I intended to wait him out, but I was never one for silences. I was speaking again in less than half a minute. “So you want me to go first or should we rock, paper, scissors it?”

“The police arrested Haley Joseph’s boyfriend.”