THIRTY-FOUR
Connie and Ted Russell took the news about their daughter about as well as could be expected. Not good. At all. Connie had broken down in heaving sobs, and her husband rubbed her back in a circular motion, trying to calm her. They had no idea who could have wanted to do this to their “little girl.” Amanda and Trent did walk away with the name of Jayne’s cell phone service provider, though. She was attached to her parents’ plan.
It was almost one in the afternoon when Trent pulled into the lot at Central. After notifying the Russells, they had stopped by Hannah’s Diner for a coffee and a sandwich. Amanda hoped both stayed down.
Now she was seated across from Luke and Stephanie in an interview room while Trent worked on getting a subpoena approved for Jayne’s phone records. He’d also received a message from the Metro PD detective with the information he’d requested on the Annie Frasier case.
Luke scowled. “What took you so long? We’ve been waiting for hours.”
“I really shouldn’t be here,” Stephanie said. “I can’t afford to get behind in my classes.”
Amanda clasped her hands on the table. “Your cooperation is appreciated. We understand this must be a hard time for both of you.” It was difficult to conjure compassion. A fellow student, and one they’d known no less, had been murdered, and Stephanie was concerned about her schooling. “Before we get started, can I get either of you something to eat or drink?”
“You could move us to a nicer room,” Luke said. “You’ve got us in here like we’re criminals.”
“It’s just a standard interview room.” There were soft interview rooms that were set up with couches and throw pillows, painted in a soothing color, but Amanda wanted to drill home what was at stake. “Our conversation will be recorded.” She pointed a finger to a box mounted in a corner of the room on the ceiling. The light on the unit was green. “What time did you get to campus this morning?”
“Eight,” Luke said and took Stephanie’s hand. “Together. We’re seeing each other. There’s no crime in that.”
There wasn’t, but Amanda noted how Luke liked to control the narrative—and Stephanie. “How long?”
“A few weeks?” Luke glanced at Stephanie, and she nodded.
Around the same time that Chloe and Josh had broken up. Had Luke really moved on? There was one thing niggling at her about that, though—and about them being a couple. “Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing each other before now?”
The two of them looked at each other, silent communication passing between them.
“We figured how it might look to you,” Luke said.
First Lauren was telling them how things would look. Now Luke. “And how’s that?”
“Like we might have teamed up and killed Chloe? It’s no secret she didn’t return my interest in her, and she tramped all over Stephanie’s ambitions.”
She didn’t miss the strong wording: tramped all over. That was quite an accusation. Also brazen to come out and serve up motive in a neat package. There wasn’t any evidence of two people killing the girls. If two had, one could have held them while the other stabbed. There was nothing to support that, just as the video showed one mystery figure dropped off. It didn’t mean they couldn’t have conspired together, though. “Did you team up and kill Chloe and Jayne?”
“No,” Stephanie spat. “And I wouldn’t hurt anyone. It’s just not who I am.”
“Everyone is capable of murder given strong enough motive.”
Stephanie slumped.
“Is that what being a cop does to your world view?” Luke pushed back.
She didn’t care for his challenging attitude. Aggressive, temperamental, angry. “That’s reality. Did you know that Chloe and Josh broke up?” She’d change tack to throw him off guard.
He withdrew his hand from Stephanie’s. “No.”
“They did. Three weeks ago. From the sounds of it, around the time you two started seeing each other.” She put that out there but wasn’t sure if it was of any consequence. “What were you two doing together this morning from three until you went to campus?” Hopefully the jumping around would serve to set them on edge, and if something incriminating jolted loose, that would be even better. She wanted to press the legitimacy of their relationship too.
Luke looked at Stephanie, and she nodded. He went ahead. “Sleeping. And then we were making out.”
“That’s all?” She’d expected to be told they were having sex. “Guess we could always ask your parents about your little sleepover, Luke.”
“That’s enough! We weren’t killing Jayne!” Veins bulged in Luke’s forehead.
“I never said you were.” Cool. Calm. Composed.
“You drag us down here to talk”—he attributed finger quotes to the word—“but you think we’re somehow involved in the murders.”
“Honestly, Luke? We haven’t ruled it out.”
Stephanie’s mouth gaped open, and tears pooled in her eyes.
Luke’s expression hardened, his eyes intent, his features shadowed. “We didn’t kill either one of them, though they deserved whatever they got.”
Amanda drew back. “Whoa. That’s quite a thing to say.”
Stephanie shifted her chair away from Luke and rubbed her arms.
“What are you doing?” Luke asked her.
“I don’t know who you are right now.” Her brow furrowed, and her chin quivered.
Amanda stood and opened the door. “Miss Piper, you can leave if you wish.”
The girl gave one last glance at Luke and did just that.
“Why does she get to go and I’m stuck here?”
Amanda was slow about returning to her seat and responding. Luke’s shoe was tapping out a rhythm under the table.
“What do you know about phone spoofing?” She kept her tone even and relaxed as she sat back in her chair and got comfortable.
“I’ve heard of it. Not too hard to do.”
“You’ve done it before?”
“Everything’s on the internet.”
“Not an answer to my question.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“So, you’ve never sent text messages to someone pretending to be another person?” She leaned forward, inching into his personal space.
“No.”
“Not to Chloe?”