Page 55 of Crush
Though with the expression on her face, she’s catching on.
“Savannah’s phone was found where she was last seen, at the front of the rec center after swim practice.” Aiko nods for me to continue. “It was wiped, Aiko. Anything important was probably removed—like an entire message chain with the kidnapper or any corresponding documents. That person, whether it was the kidnapper or Savannah, made sure the phone was useless before they dropped it on the ground and took off with her.”
“They wiped everything from the cloud…” Aiko starts to say.
“But not the desktop,” I finish. “There’s a small window when people didn’t know she was missing, and the kidnapper could’ve gotten to her laptop and started scrubbing the files. Maybe they were interrupted or never got the chance. I don’t know. I couldn’t find any tracks, but it could be possible I’m not looking deep enough. I didn’t consider the kidnapper had that kind of knowledge. Either way, I think this spreadsheet exists when it wasn’t supposed to. Did anyone have access to Savannah’s things after she disappeared and before the police took them?”
“I-I guess. Thorne and his dad came over to express their concern when Molly still lived with us. They stayed for dinner, but I can’t tell you if either of them looked guilty. Because they wear the same expression all the time. Like, pissed off and constipated. Or pissed off because they’re constipated.”
“Okay.” I don’t allow mention of Thorne to hitch my thoughts and drag them off course. “Who else?”
“Her friends, like Aurora, Belle, Delaney. But they were only around for an hour or so because Molly was making them so uncomfortable, sobbing and hugging them.”
“What about Malcolm?”
“Your dad?” Aiko stares up at the sky, thinking for a few seconds, that small span of time transforming into an anchor in my stomach. “No,” she says at last. “He never came. There was no real association between Malcolm and Savannah or our families.”
“Not even an internship?” I hedge. “Or a summer job working for his company?”
“Malcolm employs a lot of locals, sure, but Savvy wasn’t interested in international business relations. She wanted to move to Manhattan and work for some female-led corporate magnate over there. Girl power.”
So much for that.
“Any one of them could’ve done this,” I mutter, more to myself, but Aiko hears.
Aiko puts a hand on her bloodless cheek. “No way. That spreadsheet is a bunch of nothing. Isn’t it? You couldn’t figure it out. It’s just a bunch of numbers and times! And weird acronyms.”
“Not acronyms. Places.” I scan over Aiko’s head, reading the storefronts across the street and beside us that meant nothing a few minutes ago but now mean everything. “Some of them match up to these store names. CBB - Clothes by Belladonna. RB - Raven’s Buzz. WRC - Winthorpe Recreational Center.”
“Stop.” Aiko holds up her free hand, her coffee trembling precariously in the other. “That’s not possible. It hasn’t been staring at me in the face this whole time, okay? I didn’t miss something like that!”
I step toward her. “This isn’t your fault.” Rubbing her shaking shoulder, I say, “You’re so close to this—to her. I’m not. That’s why you asked me to help, right? For an unbiased viewpoint.”
“That was supposed to be the police,” she spits out. “But they’re under the Societies’ thumbs just like everyone else in this rotten town. What if they knew? What if they saw that spreadsheet and didn’t give a damn because someone paid them to forget about it?”
“I can’t answer that. But I promise I’ll keep digging.”
Aiko sniffs. Her coffee falls to the ground, splashing on our feet, because she uses both arms to wrap tightly around my waist and hug so completely, my ribs almost crack.
“Thank you,” she whispers into my jacket. “Thank you for giving a damn about my sister.”
I swallow back the swell of emotion in my throat that’s heating my eyes. “I want to do it.”
I want to hurt Thorne.
Smartly, I hold that thought instead of voicing it.
We hold on for a few minutes until Aiko steps back. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she mutters, “I’m not sorry for dropping that blasphemy and spilling it all over the pavement. It belongs to the ants.”
Laughing, I take another swig of the sweet deliciousness. “I’m not insulted. I’m an acquired taste.”
“Speaking of taste, you also have two options for costumes and outfits in this rotten town.” Aiko inhales, collecting herself, then points across the street. “Clothes by Belladonna, frequented by the country club ladies and Savannah, or next door, Barely There, a lingerie and skimpy clothing shop.”
I put a finger to my chin and pretend to check out both storefront windows—Clothes by Belladonna basically becoming a calling card for my closet. The exact twin sets Malcolm collected and had organized before my arrival are on display in the window. The fact that Savannah shopped there, too …
No. I shake my head. Spreadsheets and computers, I can handle. My newly discovered biological father turning into a teenager-snatcher will take more time.
He snatched you, didn’t he?