The devil

“Damien King.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat as he writes down his name on the pad. “How did your brother react when he found out?”

I wince. “He was pissed. Not at Damien, because they were friends too, but Mrs. Miller. He told me her sleeping with another student was the equivalent of her cheating on him.”

He raises a brow. “But she’s married.”

I slap the table. “I know. That’s exactly what I said.” I sigh heavily. “This is the part I’m scared to tell you about…it doesn’t paint him in a positive light.”

“No matter what your brother did, he is still the victim in this situation. However, I can’t help him if you don’t tell me everything.”

“You’re right.” I drum my nails on the desk. “He didn’t take the news well. He threatened to tell her husband about her affairs if she didn’t divorce him by the time Caleb graduated.” I roll my eyes. “I tried to talk some sense into him, but he was convinced everything would be perfect if she left her husband. He was so obsessed with her, he didn’t realize she was only using him.” My stomach clenches. “I think she liked all the attention he gave her, probably made her feel special.”

“I see.” He puts his pen back down. “Do you know when your brother first became involved with her?”

I shake my head. “No, not exactly. I only found out about them last month during his—our—eighteenth birthday. She came over in the middle of the night and I ended up walking in on them while they were…you know…in his bedroom.” I screw up my face, pretending to think. “If I had to take a guess, I’d say about three months or so. That’s when he started acting a little weird. Like he was hiding something.”

“So your brother was a minor?”

“Look, Detective. I know what you’re getting at, but I’m not looking to get her in trouble. I don’t like that she led my brother on, but he was a very willing participant.” I hitch a shoulder up. “She’s actually kind of cool. She was the fortune teller at the spring fling two weeks ago and did a reading on me and my date, Julia. Julia loved it and—”

A knock on the door cuts me off mid-sentence. “Sorry to interrupt,” a voice behind me says. “This is important.”

Detective Trejo rises from his seat. “Excuse me, Cain. I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, he walks out.

Placing my head in my hands, I exhale heavily, blinking back tears. I’m not stupid, this might not be an official interrogation, but I know every move I make is being watched and scrutinized whether a detective is in here with me or not. And right now? I’m supposed to be grieving my losses.

About fifteen minutes later Detective Trejo walks back in. I’m not sure what to make of the look on his face.

“I’m going to need to keep you here a little while longer.” He sits down on the seat across from me. “There’s been a crack in the case.”

My blood pressure rises, but I force myself to remain calm. “What happened?”

I can see him mulling something over in his head before he speaks. “You mentioned Mrs. Miller was a fortune teller at your high school dance, correct?”

“Yeah, like I said, she gave me and my date a reading.” I raise a brow. “Why?”

He rubs his chin. “Did she use tarot cards by any chance?”

“She did actually. She said they belonged to her grandmother who used to do it for a living.” I make a face. “But I don’t understand what any of that has to do with the fire and Caleb’s death.”  

“The investigators found something unusual—or rather—two unusual things under Caleb’s pillow.”

“Like what?”

“From what they can tell it’s a pair of women’s underwear…and what appears to be a tarot card.”