We have Police Chief Robert Swindon here to tell us a little about this shocking new development in the Andrea Quinley case. For those of you just tuning in, a classmate of the deceased has apparently been receiving anonymous emails from someone claiming to be Andrea. The content of those emails has led local police to a body—the body of a young man with whom Andrea had some association, although the nature of their relationship is unclear. His name was Jimmy Harmon, and he was nineteen years old. Chief Swindon, do I have all of that correct?
Um, yes, Ms. Martin. The FBI has been brought onto this case, and they are working together with both Colesbury Police and Mixville Police Departments. Colesbury, of course, was home to Jimmy Harmon and Andrea Quinley. Mixville is where the body was found.
I assume that Mr. Harmon’s death is being treated as a homicide, Mr. Swindon?
Yes. It is. For now. But as it’s an ongoing investigation, I can’t comment any further.
Have you or the department or the FBI traced the emails that this young man received—this friend of Andrea’s?
I can’t comment on that, Ms. Martin.
I couldn’t sleep after watching Mitzie Martin. Noah still hadn’t come home. G. Clara’s cop shows and lawyer shows burbled on downstairs.
I picked up my phone and looked at the time. Only ten thirty.
I texted Cecilia. Are you up?
Cecilia wrote back right away. Yup. What’s up? I’m sorry about Jimmy H. I know u weren’t friends but still.
Can you talk?
A few seconds after I sent it, my phone started playing its frog-ribbit ringtone, and I picked up.
“What’s up?” Cecilia asked.
“I wanted to ask you a random question,” I whispered, even though the door was closed and I knew G. Clara couldn’t hear me. “Does the day January sixteenth mean anything to you? I mean, January sixteenth of this past year? Can you think of anything special or out of the ordinary that was happening on that day?”
“No, not off the top of my head. Why?”
“I mean, anything with Andrea or Matt?”
Cecilia yawned. “Andrea wasn’t gone by then, right?”
“No. Andrea didn’t disappear until early March.”
“Oh. You’re right,” said Cecilia. “Sorry. I’m a little tired. So, January sixteenth. That’s around midyear exam time, right?”
“Right,” I said. “But it was on a weekend. Would that have been a weekend you guys all got together?”
“We get together lots of weekends. That was so long ago, I don’t remember.”
“Can you maybe look back at your text messages, or something?”
“Uh . . . I guess. But I doubt I’d find anything. Everything from last year kind of runs together until Andrea disappeared. I mean, that was memorable.”
“Could it have been the weekend Andrea did that catnip trick?” I asked.
Cecilia thought for a moment. “No. That was right before Christmas. Remember? I told you that the cat attacked the Christmas tree after Andrea gave him the catnip.”
“Oh. Right. It’s just that everybody’s acting a little weird about something that happened on that date.”
“Who’s everybody?” Cecilia wanted to know.
“Well, Matt in particular.”
“Let me check my phone a sec,” Cecilia said. “Can you hold on?”
“Okay.”
I opened my blinds and peered out into the yard. Our porch light illuminated Noah’s shed art just enough to make it visible in the dark.
“Umm, Marnie?” Cecilia sounded uneasy.
“What is it?”
“January sixteenth was the weekend of that picture. From Phoenix. That I erased.”
“How do you know, though, if you erased it?”
“Cuz there are all these other messages from around then, about the Model UN meeting I was at that weekend.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I can’t remember if I told you. Phoenix wasn’t the only one who took pictures of Matt and Andrea. Because she was like, ‘And you may as well erase any pictures my brother sent you, too.’ She knew he’d texted them to a few people. She thought he’d included me, but he hadn’t.”
“That’s weird. So Payson thought the same thing? That Andrea and Matt were hooking up?”
“Um, well, I’m not sure. He doesn’t really care about that kind of gossipy stuff.”
“Did he still have a crush on Andrea? You mentioned he asked her out once.”
“A long time ago,” Cecilia protested. “I don’t think it meant much. It was homecoming freshman year and he didn’t want to go by himself, or whatever.” She hesitated. “I can ask him if you want, actually. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you this, but he and I have been spending a little more time together.”
“Since when?”
“Just the last couple of days. Called me out of the blue yesterday.” Cecilia said. “Then he wanted to hang out.”
I was silent for a moment. I wasn’t sure how to react, since I still didn’t think Payson would be so great for Cecilia. Not to mention his timing seemed a little strange.
“And so you did?” I asked.
“Yeah. At my house. He even stayed for dinner. He pretty much invited himself over. It was kind of weird, actually.”
“Well . . . congratulations, I guess?”
“I guess,” Cecilia repeated. But she sounded small and far away—and not particularly happy. I wondered if there was something about Payson she wasn’t saying. Something that was making her have second thoughts. “Good night.”
“Good night,” I said.