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“She says that, according to your statement, you talked to Mr. Weber.”
“That’s right.”
“But you didn’t talk to him about Shaniyah Johnson.”
“John-Henry, we’ve done this a million times,” Auggie said.
“Did you talk to him about Shaniyah Johnson?”
Auggie groaned.
“No,” Theo said and rubbed his face. “We asked him about his relationship with Leon Purdue.”
“According to statements from crew members, Mr. Weber had a conversation with a blond woman this evening.”
“Yes,” Auggie said. “Her name’s Ambyr, and she’s Leon’s stepmom, or his dad’s girlfriend, or something. And she’s a drug dealer. And she hit him—Dalton—we’re pretty sure. I don’t understand why we’re going round and round about this. Isn’t it obvious what happened? Dalton had something going with Leon. It ended, or it went wrong, or something happened. And then Shaniyah showed up and started asking questions, and Dalton decided to get rid of her. Why haven’t you arrested him?”
For a moment, the anger in John-Henry’s face was a tamped-down heat, like banked coals fanned until they were on the brink of flames again. He got up and left the interview room. Then he came back, and he shut the door hard.
“This is just us talking. We have arrested him, Auggie. He’s being interviewed right now by Detective Palomo. And for the record, she’s good at her job, and she doesn’t buy for a second that Dalton Weber ended up in his current condition because Ambyr Hobbs slapped him.” His attention shifted to Theo. “You’re lucky Dalton isn’t saying anything—and I mean that literally, not anything—because otherwise you’d be looking at an assault charge, Theo. Minimum. Jesus Christ, what got into you?”
Theo shook his head. He put a hand on the table, still staring down, and ran his thumb along the edge.
John-Henry rubbed his forehead, and some of the tightness drained out of his body.
“You arrested Dalton?” Auggie asked.
“Yes.”
“Um. Why?”
Dropping his hand, John-Henry fixed Auggie with a look.
“I mean if you want to tell us,” Auggie said in a rush.
“We arrested him because, as I told you, Palomo is a good detective. As soon as she saw those fibers under Shaniyah’s nails, she used every officer she could get her hands on. They’ve been picking through the garbage at the theater and at Dalton’s apartment for the last couple of hours.”
“They found a match?”
“They found a match.” But John-Henry sounded tired. “An orange cardigan. According to some of the cast and crew, he’s worn it recently. As recently as last week; that’s the best guess.”
“That’s great, right?” Auggie looked at Theo, who was still staring at the table. “I mean, you’ve got a motive, you’ve got physical evidence linking him to the body.” He stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Why?” Theo said quietly.
John-Henry nodded.
“Why kill her?” Auggie said. “We already know—”
“Why leave her body in the trap room?” John-Henry said. “Why toss your sweater in the dumpster behind your house? Why kill her at all?”
“She was asking questions about Leon.”
“Right, Auggie. She was asking questions. She was a teenage girl playing sleuth on her phone. Which, by the way, is still missing, along with her bag.”
“You don’t think Dalton did it?” Auggie let out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you kidding me?”
Theo shook his head.
