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“Bye.”
He watched her walk past the trailers toward the side of the school and felt an odd sensation, like something horrible was waiting for her just beyond his line of sight. But he was a rational young man, so he resisted the urge to run and check on her, knowing the front of the school, some students, and probably a few faculty were right there on the other side.
Maybe it was the mention of Chris that had him on edge. He never liked the boy and couldn’t understand why Avianna was still with him. He had graduated last year after causing all kinds of trouble between her and Nyleah. And now Nyleah was dead.
CHAPTER SIX
Ithadonlybeena week since the case file had been unceremoniously dumped Detective Vaughn Webb’s desk. Apparently, the medical examiner changed her ruling from suicide to homicide. That’s a rare occurrence, an ME admitting to a mistake, because it means extra work and wasted money, and nobody wants that. But circumstances conspired as they did, and of course, ofcoursehe was the one who caught the case. He was unlucky like that.
Best he could tell, young Miss Nyleah Faust had hanged herself at a party, or at least that was the initial impression. Webb wasn’t sure why homicide wasn’t the immediate ruling from the officers on the scene, but then he looked, and yep, there it was. Johansen was first on, and that guy was as lazy as a ketchup sandwich.
As he flipped through the case file, Webb got the distinct feeling that this one was gonna be a clusterfuck. It was the same feeling he got when Eddie Jackson committed a murder-suicide on his boss, coworkers, and himself and everyone assumed Eddie was a disgruntled employee until it was discovered that the boss was a drug dealer on the side who had sold a hot shot to Eddie’s cousin.
Where to even start? None of the partygoers had been formally interviewed. Police on the scene had released them to their parents the night of the murder after a rudimentary line of questioning. They hadn’t even looked into the girl who found the body. In short, they had dogged the hell out of the investigation. Realistically, the only place to start was at the beginning.
Webb sat back in his chair and wiped a hand across his forehead. It had been over a little over two months since the murder, and that didn’t bode well for his ability to solve the case. That was at least 60 days’ worth of forgotten details, changed stories, and possibly even collusion between the guilty parties.
Light footsteps approached the door just before a figure entered the room. Webb looked up and frowned. “Did you get a chance to look at this yet?” he asked Brad.
Good old Bradley Ackerman, his partner of just over four months now. He was young, blonde, and handsome, and exactly the type who would be a douche, but so far, he’d shown himself to be a nice guy. Webb didn’t have a good feel for him yet, but those things take time. Getting to know a partner is more sensitive, and in some ways more important, than getting to know a potential romantic partner.
Ackerman shrugged. “I skimmed it. I have some thoughts, but tell me. What do you make of it?”
“I think it was somebody she knew." Webb sat up straight and cleared his throat. "Strangulation is usually intimate, right? I figure he was at the party with her. And I don’t know much about them, but I already know I don’t want it to be one of these kids. They seem like good kids.”
They could even behiskids, if he had any. He never managed to escape the judgment that accompanies being a 40-year-old black man with no wife and no children. Maybe you can be that in the north, and perhaps in the west, but it’s definitely frowned upon in the Bible Belt.
Ackerman rubbed his chin. “Some of ‘em are 18 or close to it. They’re not kids.”
“Of course they’re kids. Still in high school, cheerleading and shit. What are your thoughts?”
“Same as you." Ackerman took a seat behind his desk. "It had to be someone known to her.”
“Where do you wanna start?”
“The girl who found the body. What’s her name…” He flipped through the pages. “Yeah, Bria Lane. We need to have a conversation with Ms. Lane.”
Webb glanced at the medical examiner’s report. “Say, since when do we turn suicides into murders?”
“Since the commissioner called down and pressured the M.E. to take another look.”
Webb frowned at his partner. “Why would he do that?”
Ackerman smiled. “Well, isn’t this funny. I know something you don’t.”
Webb held up his hands in faux surrender. Ackerman wasn’t a big fan of his know-it-all attitude or his habit of imparting unsolicited local wisdom and instructions on this or that. So now it was his turn to be schooled, and he was gonna listen graciously.
“Apparently the victim has some powerful family members,” Ackerman said.
“Aw shit. Who?”
“I don’t know the whole story, but I think you need to ask around about who her grandmother is in this city.”
Webb groaned and pushed the papers away from him. “I don’t even wanna know. Whatever it is, it isn’t gonna help me solve this case.”
“Alright, where do you wanna start?”
“First I’m gonna have the lab test her clothes and underwear and every surface of that upstairs area of the clubhouse.”
