“When I think of Brooke in that hospital bed... It was all I could do not to punch him.”

“Hopefully, he’ll do the right thing,” Gonzo said, glancing at the closed door to the interrogation room. “The lawyer gets it, even if Brody doesn’t.”

“For once, a lawyer might actually come in handy,” Cruz said.

Jeannie McBride came down the corridor. “Lieutenant Holland? There’s someone here asking for you.”

“Who is it?”

Jeannie consulted her notebook. “A couple named Jeff and Pauline Barnes and their son, Tyler.”

“Go ahead, LT,” Gonzo said. “We’ve got this.”

While Sam desperately wanted to hear the next phase of the Mitchell interview, she also wanted to know what the visitors had to say.

Sam walked away, wondering if Brody Mitchell was their fourth man or if the fourth guy was someone they didn’t even know about yet. She went out to the lobby, where the Barnes family sat huddled on the small arrangement of sofas outside the dispatch area. “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?”

The parents stood quickly. The father all but dragged the son to his feet.

“I’m Lieutenant Holland. You asked to see me?”

“I’m Jeff Barnes. This is my wife, Pauline, and our son, Tyler. He has something he needs to tell you.”

“Come in.” Since the conference room was being used as their command center, complete with gruesome photos of the murder victims, Sam led them to one of the empty interrogation rooms. “Have a seat.” She arranged the chairs on all four sides of the table to keep things friendly and non-confrontational. “Do you mind if I record our conversation?”

“He doesn’t mind,” Jeff Barnes said on his son’s behalf. Pauline looked like she might break down at any second as she stared at her sulky son.

“Tyler?” Sam said. “Do you mind?”

He shook his head.

Sam turned on the recording device and recited the date and time. “Lieutenant Holland speaking with Jeff and Pauline Barnes and their son, Tyler. How old are you, Tyler?”

“Seventeen.”

“Tell her what you told us,” Jeff said to his son, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. The tension between the three of them was palpable.

“I was at the party at Hugo Springer’s house,” Tyler said as his eyes filled with tears. “Hugo, Michael, Todd and Kevin were friends of mine. Close friends.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your friends.”

Tyler nodded and wiped a tear from his cheek.

“Can you tell me about the party? What time did you get there?”

“It was after nine. Hugo and Michael had been at it for a while by then, and they were pretty lit.”

“I want to say for the record that my son was prohibited from attending that party, but he snuck out of our house and went anyway,” Jeff said.

Tyler seemed to shrink under the rage coming from his father.