Free Dead Girls Don't Lie by Jennifer Shaw Wolf

brought it with him; maybe he was planning to give it back to me.
    “I’m going to need to take that as evidence.” Detective Herrera reaches for my phone and Dad passes it to him. I feel like he’s handing over my life to a complete stranger. I’m suddenly very grateful I deleted everything, including the text I sent to Eduardo. But I’m not sure how cell phones work. Can Detective Herrera see what I’ve deleted? Can he tell I got a video message I didn’t tell him about? And what if I get another text from Eduardo? He turns the phone on and goes to my contact list. “I assume the number is listed here.”
    I nod. “Under Ray.” When my dad gave me the phone as a surprise the day I started high school, Rachel’s number was the first one I put in. I’ve gone to delete it a hundred times, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
    He writes down the number and then seals my phone in a plastic bag from his pocket. “Now, back to the text message you got the night she died. Why did you delete it?” The question comes from Agent Herrera, but I can feel it coming from all sides.
    I stare at the graffiti under my feet, a hollow eye. “Rachel was into some bad things. I didn’t want anyone to see it.” I can’t face Dad or Araceli, and if I look at Agent Herrera he’ll know I’m not telling all of the truth.
    “Bad things?” He leans toward me. “Like what?”
    I step back. “I don’t know. I just heard rumors.” He’s still breathing down my neck. “And they found drugs in her locker.” Araceli takes in a wavering breath. I hate that I brought that up in front of her. I whisper, “I’m sorry,” as Dad grips my arm.
    “Anything you have firsthand knowledge of?” Agent Herrera seems to fill the entire porch. I can’t escape his eyes.
    I think about telling him everything, about the text, about the old house; maybe if I tell him, this could all be over. I wonder what the penalty is for withholding evidence. I wonder if the police could really protect me. But I promised Rachel I wouldn’t.
    He’s already moved to the next thing. “Could you tell me anything about who Rachel has been associating with lately, or what she might have been doing?”
    Eduardo’s face comes into my brain, but I can only form one word. “No.”
    “I see.” He steps back and I breathe again. “I’ll check the phone records and see if we can retrieve the contents of the text, but usually the phone company only keeps that data for twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” I wonder if that includes the other text I received today, if he’ll search through all my texts, including the video message and the one I sent Eduardo. Agent Herrera writes something down. “Ms. Sanchez was telling me that Rachel sometimes kept a journal, but the journal hasn’t been seen since Rachel died. Do you know anything about it?”
    I lick my lips, but can’t think of anything incriminating about telling the truth. As long as I’ve known Rachel she’s had some kind of journal. “Yes.”
    “So you’re saying you know where it is,” Agent Herrera says eagerly.
    “No, I’m saying I know about it.” The graffiti moves in red swirls around my feet, making me dizzy. I lean against Dad for support.
    “You don’t have any idea where it might be now?” Agent Herrera’s eyes glitter, like some kind of bug, or a spider, moving in for the kill.
    “No,” I answer firmly. My face is getting hot like I’m about to throw up again, or pass out. I close my eyes.
    When I open my eyes Detective Herrera is holding a business card. He reaches it toward me, but Dad intercepts it. “If you remember anything you think might be important to the case, please give me a call.” He turns to Araceli with a stone-cold look. “I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll do whatever we can to find out who did this.” His speech sounds canned, like he’s said those words without hope a thousand times. The way he looks at Araceli, without any real sympathy, makes me