Gretchen uttered a cry. “Huh? You don’t think I killed Madison—do you?”
Sid didn’t answer. His eyes remained on the acid jar trembling in his hand.
“I-I-I…” Gretchen stammered. Sid’s sudden betrayal made her go speechless.
“Hidden in the garage … In your backpack.…” Sid murmured, his voice just above a whisper. He kept blinking, as if he was trying to force the bottle out of his sight.
“Well, I didn’t put it there!” Gretchen screamed, finding her voice. “Don’t be a jerk, Sid. You know Madison was my friend. The only friend I’ve made here in Shadyside. Why would I kill her? Why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I … don’t understand.”
Gretchen pointed a trembling finger at the jar. “Put it down. Put it down, Sid. The police will be looking for fingerprints. Now they’ll find your prints all over it.”
Sid dropped the jar back into the backpack. He set the backpack down carefully. “I’m sorry, but—”
“I can’t believe you thought that acid was mine,” Gretchen said, feeling the anger tighten her chest. She crossed her arms in front of her. “Someone put it there.”
“But when did you notice your backpack was gone?”
“I … I don’t know.” Why was he questioning her? Shouldn’t he be helping her? Supporting her?
“But if I killed Madison and had half a bottle of acid left over, I wouldn’t put it there,” she said. “I wouldn’t put it in my backpack and hide it in the front of the garage where anyone could find it. Do you think I’m stupid?”
Sid shook his head but didn’t answer. He couldn’t hide his confusion. His eyebrows were knitted tightly and his eyes kept darting from side to side, as if his thoughts were overloading him.
“Trust me,” Gretchen continued. “If the acid was mine, I would have dumped it in a trash can as far away from my house as you can get.” She gave Sid’s shoulder a shove. “Think about it. Someone put that here. Someone who wanted it to be found in my garage.”
Sid swallowed. “First someone took your backpack? Then they hid it in your garage with the acid in it?”
“You don’t think Devra is capable of that?” Gretchen demanded.
“Yeah … I guess.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gretchen. I didn’t mean to accuse you. I was just so shocked. I lost it for a moment.”
Gretchen stared at the backpack, gritting her teeth. “Devra put it there. I know she did. She knew no one would believe that I killed Madison. She put it there as a warning, Sid. Don’t you see? This is a warning of what she can do.”
“But you have no proof—” Sid started.
“I told you,” Gretchen interrupted him. “The night before she was killed, Madison said she had something important to tell me. Something she was desperate to tell me. Then, before she had a chance, she was murdered.”
“I know. I remember. And you think Madison was desperate to tell you something about Devra.”
“I’m sure she was, Sid. And I’m sure Devra murdered her to keep her from telling what she found out.”
Sid shook his head. “But there’s no way to prove it. No way—”
“Yes, there is,” Gretchen said. She grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the garage. “We’re going to prove it. At least, almost prove it. Let’s go.” She pulled him to the car, which her mother had parked halfway up the drive.
Sid still had his face twisted in confusion. “Where are we going?”
“To Devra’s house. And let’s hope she isn’t home.”