The dog didn’t believe him.
Lance returned to his office, played a classic rock station through the wireless speaker, and settled in with his laptop. He flipped through the file to the parent information—anything to keep the image of a dead teenager out of his head.
Three hours of computer research later, exhaustion hit Lance like a brick over the head. Jamie’s social media accounts revealed nothing, but then, it was likely that her parents monitored her online activity, considering her psychiatric history. The kid was probably smart enough to know her accounts were being watched.
Lance considered making a coffee-and-donut run. If he fell asleep, he’d be seeing Tessa Palmer’s body in his dreams. He was halfway to the door when the stiff ache in his thigh turned him around. He went back to the kitchen and drank a protein shake, then stretched out on the couch.
He couldn’t let a few nightmares—or anything else—get in the way of his recovery.
But the bloody image that haunted his sleep didn’t belong to Tessa. It was Morgan’s. Even in his sleep he knew that she was the one who had the power to hurt him.
Chapter Seven
It was Wednesday afternoon. Lance leaned on the outside of his Jeep and waited for Jamie Lewis’s best friend. Seventeen-year-old high school dropout Tony Allessi worked at the bowling alley. Neither the police nor Jamie’s parents had been able to get any information out of the kid, but Lance wasn’t an authority figure. Somebody had to know where Jamie had gone. With teenagers, friends were the best possibility.
Tony was easy to spot crossing the parking lot. On top of a lanky, six-three frame, his four-inch blue-and-red Mohawk didn’t exactly blend into a crowd. He looked like a parrot.
Lance pushed off the door of his Jeep. “Hey, Tony!”
The teen turned at the sound of his name. He wore ripped jeans and a vintage Ramones T-shirt.
“I hear you’re good friends with Jamie Lewis.” Lance looked beyond the nose ring, eyeliner, and twin ear gauges the size of dinner plates.
Under all his facial modifications, Tony’s eyes were sharp and suspicious. “Yeah. So?”
“I’m looking for her.”
“Why?”
Lance handed him a business card. “You heard what happened Thursday night, right?”
Tony nodded, his mouth tightening into a solemn line. “Yeah. I didn’t know Tessa that well, but she didn’t deserve to get killed.”
“No. She didn’t. The police haven’t caught the guy who did it. I hate to think of Jamie out there all alone.” Lance let the implication hang in the air.
Tony leaned back, hands raised. “Dude, I can’t steer the police toward a friend.”
He’s definitely seen Jamie.
“I’m not the police,” Lance pointed out. “But her parents are going crazy. Every time the news mentions the murder, they picture Jamie.”
As did Lance. Tessa Palmer’s dead body had haunted him since Saturday morning. He really wanted to find Jamie before something terrible happened to her. Kids on the street were vulnerable to all sorts of predators.
“Sorry, man. I can’t help you,” Tony insisted. “I don’t know where she is anyway.”
“If you see Jamie, ask her to call me.” Lance handed him another card. “Just knowing she’s all right would mean a lot to her parents.”
“OK.” Tony pocketed it and walked into the building.
“Hey, cop,” a voice called.
Lance pivoted to see a red-haired teenage boy standing next to a beat-up Toyota. The kid was small and scrawny with a sunburn-over-freckles complexion.
“You were asking about Jamie Lewis?”
“What’s your name?” Lance asked.
“You a cop?”
“No.” Lance checked to make sure his handgun behind his right hip was covered by his shirt. It was. Why did everyone think he was a cop?
“Then it’s none of your fucking business.”
It was one in the afternoon. Wasn’t this kid supposed to be in school?
“Do you have information about Jamie?” Lance asked.
“What’s it worth to you?” Red held out his hand and wiggled his fingers.
Lance dug a twenty out of his wallet.
The kid shook his head. “It’s worth more than twenty bucks.”
Lance exchanged the twenty for a fifty. The kid reached for it, but Lance was twice his size. He held the money just out of reach. “What do you know?”
With a disgusted sigh, Red pulled out a cell phone that probably cost more than his car. He scrolled. “There was this big party out at the lake Thursday night.”
Lance straightened. “And?”
“And Jamie was there.” The kid held the phone out so Lance could see the screen. A video was playing with the sound muted. Lance watched two boys shoving each other and arguing.
The kid tapped the screen. “Look in the background.”
A ring of kids circled the fighting boys. They appeared to be encouraging the fight. Red hit pause. “There’s Jamie.”
“Do you know any of these other kids?” The focus was on the combatants, so the people in the background were fuzzy. Lance couldn’t positively ID anyone. He’d have to see the video on a larger screen.
“Dude, I’m not a squealer.”
Lance waved the fifty. “Can I get a copy of this?”
Red rolled his eyes. “It’s on YouTube. You can do whatever you want with it.”
Lance copied the URL and handed over the cash.
“Thanks.” Red took the fifty and his phone.
As the kid got into his Toyota, Lance memorized his license plate information. It would take him five minutes to identify Mr. Red Noneofyourfuckingbusiness.
Lance drove to the office. Sharp was at his desk, working on his computer. Lance headed for the empty room and his laptop. He settled in the folding chair.
“Aren’t you uncomfortable in that tiny chair?” Sharp called across the hall.
“I’m fine. I like minimalism.” The computer screen glowed, and Lance opened the browser and went to YouTube. He found the video in twenty seconds. “Come watch this.”
Sharp crossed the hall and watched over Lance’s shoulder. Lance stopped the video at the same point Red had. “Jamie Lewis?”
“I’ll be damned.”
“So much for the assumption that she left town.”
“When was that video taken?” Sharp asked.
“Thursday night.” Lance played the video from the beginning again. He didn’t see Red, nor did he spot Tony’s Mohawk in the crowd, but then even enlarged, the background images were a little grainy.
Sharp leaned closer. “Is that the party Tessa Palmer was last seen at?”
“It is.” Lance froze the video again. “There’s Tessa.”
“Do the police have this video?” Sharp eased back, scratching his chin.
“I don’t know. I’ll call Brody.”
“You should. It’s good to stay in the good graces of local law enforcement. Horner’s a necessary evil and makes a really bad enemy.”