“Rebecca Massey wrote in her texts that she knew where you were, and she was coming. Did she know you were in New Orleans? Had you been in contact with her?” Detective Smalls asked. It was a rhetorical question, really. Nowadays, everyone, including Detective Smalls herself, had at least one social media account. Georgia had accounts on all the major platforms, and most of her updates and photos were public.

“I posted where I was going on Facebook and Instagram. That’s how she knew. She likes to troll me relentlessly online, too. If hounding me every day makes her feel better, then it’s the price I’ll pay. I said before, I don’t think she would really do something… Do you think she actually came to New Orleans?” Georgia asked, nervously.

Detective Smalls shook her head. “So far, it looks like she was at home yesterday. Local authorities near her home have spoken with her. It would have been nearly impossible for her to commit a murder and make it all the way back home that fast, but it’s something we’re definitely looking into at the moment. She certainly seemed angry enough to kill, possibly commit murder. But you seemed to be her only focus and interest.”

Georgia flinched at the word ‘murder’.

“I made a huge mistake, and I killed a kind, innocent boy who deserved to live a wonderful life. And I’ll spend the rest of my days feeling guilty. But I didn’t murder anyone, you have to know that. I would never hurt someone intentionally no matter how mad they made me,” Georgia cried.

The detective watched the young woman, tears flowing through her fingers, face swollen from crying. Her answers seemed genuine. Believable. She had no real motive to commit this crime, at least not that the detective could see, yet.

“Were you aware that the power went out just after midnight?”

“Yes, I remember,” Georgia said, sniffling.

“Where were you when the lights went out?”

“I was in bed, reading those awful messages Rebecca Massey sent me. My phone died and I couldn’t charge it because of the outage. So, I rolled over and finally went to sleep. Until… the screams woke me a few hours later.”

The detective nodded, still trying to work out her feelings and general impression of Georgia Britt.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Interview: Suspect #2

Unlike Georgia, Elizabeth Beake was a hard one to crack. She sat across the interview table, arms crossed tightly over her chest, looking down her long, patrician nose at Detective Nina Smalls.

“How old are you?” she demanded, eyes beady and hard. Despite what had happened, Elizabeth seemed stoic and tight-lipped. A woman used to being in control.