After a second or two, Chet digs around in his pocket for his phone. “Fine, but I just wanna state for the record that I didn’t show anybody these pictures she sent, and the plans we made to meet up on Tuesday night never happened. She went silent, and I ended up crashing on Jed Allen’s couch. Annalee had kicked me out.” Chet unlocks his cell and pulls up the string.

I watch Chief Hunt’s expression as he scrolls through the texts, the way his lips purse and one brow crawls up his forehead at photos with what looks like a hell of a lot more than a simple flash of skin. My mind is racing, but I can’t think straight, can’t think of any way to stop this runaway train. All I know is that I need the questioning to end and everybody to leave. Chet slept with Sienna Sterling the day before she died. Jesus Christ.

Chief looks up from the phone. “Where were you on Wednesday morning from, say, 2:00 a.m. on?”

“Like I said, asleep on Jed Allen’s couch.”

“Was Mr. Allen there at the time?”

“Yeah. And so was his girlfriend.”

“Can either of them confirm it?”

“I mean...everybody was asleep, but I guess.”

“I’m going to need a list of your whereabouts from the time you left the B and B until noon on Wednesday, along with a list of names and numbers of people who can back you up on it. Bring it by the station by closing time today. Oh, and if you delete this string from your phone, I’ll throw your ass in jail for evidence tampering.”

He doesn’t wait for Chet to respond, or for Micah or anyone else to say goodbye. The chief hands the phone back to Chet and stomps out the door, leaving behind him a silence so complete I hear the engine crank on the front driveway. I stare at Chet. Chet stares at the floor. Diana stares at us from across the island, that stupid perfect corkscrew ponytail draped down one shoulder, and I hate that she’s here. I hate that she’s a witness to all this.

I smack Chet with both hands on the chest. “Chet, what the hell? You said you didn’t sleep with her.”

“That’s because you’re my sister. I’m not telling you that kind of stuff. Gross.”

“This is serious!”

“You think I don’t know that?” He groans, scrubbing his face with both hands. “I messed up, okay? When Sam showed me her picture on his phone, I completely freaked. I swear I didn’t know she was dead, and I’d never hurt her. You know me. I wouldn’t.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “What else? Because I can’t fix it unless you tell me now. What else are you not saying?”