The Perfectionists

Chapter 36

AN HOUR LATER, AUDREY PULLED into the parking lot of the police station. She pulled down the mirror and glanced at her reflection: minimal makeup, just a touch of mascara, and clear lip gloss, her hair in a low ponytail. Her men's large Huskies T-shirt hung loose over her Lululemon yoga pants. Her skin was still crawling at the memory of the striptease she'd performed for Mr. Maraj—the striptease her friends had seen, that Chad had probably even seen. She wanted to look nothing like she had the night before.

She grabbed her phone and dialed Chad's number again. The phone rang and rang, then went to voice mail. A lump formed in Audrey's throat. Was he sitting next to it, staring as her name flashed on the screen? "Please let me explain," she said after the voice mail beep. "It wasn't what you think, okay? I love you."

But all her protests sounded so weak and pathetic. What was Chad supposed to think? She hadn't even buttoned her dress when she came flying out of Jay's house. Was this the price she had to pay to prove her innocence?

Frustrated, she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her. The sky was dull and gray, the air heavy with rain. Inside, the station was quiet, with just a few officers at their desks. There was no receptionist at the front, and no sign of Audrey's friends. She pulled out her phone and sent a group text: I'm here. Hurry!

Tense with pent-up energy, she paced around the lobby, examining the bulletin board covered in posters of missing girls and wanted drug dealers, and ads for bondsmen and local lawyers. There was even an ad for a mental health counselor named Elliot Fielder at Auradons Mental Health Outreach. When her phone beeped, she lunged for it, hoping it was Chad. But it was just an email from a junior she'd seen with Evie a few times, a girl named Crystal White. Evie Grimhilde's Dirty Little Secret, it read.

Curious, Audrey clicked on it and read the accompanying article. Her heart lurched. Poor Evie. This explained why she was so reserved at times, so closed off. What must it be like to live like that? And no wonder Evie never wanted anyone to meet her at her house.

A few moments later, all the girls hurried in. Audrey watched as Evie stumbled inside last, looking exhausted and puffy-eyed. She'd clearly seen the article, too. Audrey stepped forward, wanting to say something to her—that Crystal White was a horrible bitch, maybe, and that karma would get her someday.

Instead, all she could say was, "I don't care where you live or what your situation is. I'm glad we've become friends."

Tears filled Evie's eyes. Her mouth wobbled. She ducked her head and stumbled forward into Audrey's arms. Audrey hugged her tightly, noticing Jane and Uma's sympathetic glances. They must have seen the email, too. Maybe the whole school had.

Then Evie pulled away and wiped her eyes. "So, um, do you have it?" she asked, looking at Uma, who had kept the flash drive with her overnight.

Uma nodded and patted her canvas bag. "I checked on it about fifty million times. It's here."
A junior-looking officer walked past, and Audrey cleared her throat. "Um, we're here to see Detectives Peters and McMinnamin."

The officer looked at the girls skeptically, but before he had a chance to respond, the two detectives appeared from the back of the precinct. McMinnamin led the way, clearly the senior of the two partners.

"Okay, girls," Detective McMinnamin intoned, running a hand through his thinning blond hair. "Follow me."

Audrey took a deep breath and snaked past a series of messy desks piled high with intake folders and cardboard coffee cups. They turned down a long hall, passed a water fountain and doors for the men's and women's bathrooms, and settled into the same interrogation room she'd been brought to last week. It seemed like much longer.

Just as before, the venetian blinds were open, revealing a long mirror. Audrey glanced at them nervously. Was someone on the other side of the mirror watching them?

"So," Peters began, lacing his enormous fingers together on the table. "The officer on duty said you had information about Benjamin Florian. Are you ready to share?"

The girls looked at one another. Evie nodded encouragingly. Then Uma pushed the flash drive across the table. Her clammy fingers left sweaty marks on the dark surface.

"It belonged to Ben," Evie explained in a halting voice. "W-we found it at Jay Maraj's house. It proves that Ben knew Maraj was hooking up with students."

"And that he was blackmailing Maraj," Audrey jumped in. "Asking him to give him better grades, write letters of recommendations, pay for things—you name it."

"Maraj did it," Jane said. "He killed Ben. . . and now he's trying to frame us."

Peters turned to face Audrey, his brown eyes unreadable. "And how did you girls come by this flash drive. Did he just hand it over?" There was a smirk on his face.

Audrey blushed. Evie shifted in her seat. Uma leaned in, her eyes blazing. "Well, he tried to seduce Audrey. She took it when she escaped from him."

McMinnamin sighed and rubbed his temples. "So you . . . stole it?"

Audrey's mouth dropped open. "Well, I . . ."

"And what time of night was this, ladies?" Peters asked, his brow furrowed.

Audrey glanced at the others. She wasn't sure what that had to do with anything. "Um, I don't know. Evening, I guess."

"Eleven? Twelve?"

"Why don't you actually look at the content on this drive?" Evie interrupted, sliding it toward them. "And then make your decision. Because I think it proves that Jay is the murderer. And it proves you should arrest him."

"I don't doubt that Jay was doing something illicit," McMinnamin said smugly.

"But there's no way we can arrest him."

Audrey blinked, suddenly deflating. "What? Why?"

The detective's gaze was steady. "Because he's dead."

Audrey gasped. "What?" she asked faintly.

"There was a nine-one-one call to his house last night," Peters said. "When the ambulances came, there were signs of a struggle."

Blood rushed to Audrey's head. This wasn't making any sense. And all at once, she understood what the detective was getting at. "I didn't do anything to him," she said very slowly.

"Be careful what you say next," Peters growled. "Because we have a witness who places you all at the crime scene at ten PM—right around the time of death."

Audrey's heart was beating so furiously she was surprised it hadn't leaped out of her chest. "Who?" And then, suddenly, it hit her. She remembered the figure on the lawn. The look of betrayal and disgust and horror on his face. Her heart broke into a million pieces.

"Chad Charming," Peters said, looking at her. "He lives on the same block, I understand? And I believe he said you were his ex-girlfriend?" Peters smiled grimly. "I guess he didn't want to be dating a girl who is now under investigation for murder."