DiNapoli raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture and tossed an annoyed look over his shoulder at Nancy. “We’re trying to cover our bases, Ms. Jeffries. The victims were indeed deceased prior to the fire. We think the murderer may have set the fire to cover his or her tracks.” His watery eyes lifted to mine for a second, and I forced myself not to look away.

“How were they killed, exactly?” Diane challenged.

“I am not at liberty to say,” the detective responded. He scratched his chin and sat back in his chair. “We were hoping Lela might have some information about that.”

I shot back from the table until the chair hit the wall. Every adult in the room tensed, like they were ready to jump on me if I tried to escape. “Are you saying you think I killed those guys?”

“You do have a history of violence, Lela.” Nancy said it like she’d been waiting for this for the past year.

A thick swell of anger rose in me, hot as lava. “You find it easier to believe I offed two guys in some burned-out meth house rather than I’m on the straight and narrow? Thanks for believing in me, Nancy!”

Detective DiNapoli shrugged. “The one guy stole your phone. He provoked you. Maybe the other one got in the way.”

“Seriously? You’re giving me a lot of credit if you think I could do something like that.”

Diane’s grip on my shoulder was iron as she pointed to the picture on the table, at the bright green eyes of the kid I’d tried to save. Nick. Smeared black eyeliner smudged beneath his sad, empty eyes. His lips were swollen and cracked.

“Who are these guys, anyway?” she demanded. “You tell me who they are. Or don’t. Let me guess. Street people. Into drugs. Prostitution. They’ve both got that look.” Her chin was sticking out. Her eyes were blazing pools of darkness. I was suddenly very glad she was on my side.

The detective looked down at the picture in a way that told us Diane had just hit the nail right on the freaking head.

“Mm-mm-mm. That’s what I thought. Does it really make sense that a high school girl with a scholarship to URI, who was volunteering at a soup kitchen, would attack and murder two guys like that? Maybe they killed each other! Or how ’bout their tricks? Dealers? Pimps? Are you telling me this young lady is your prime suspect, just because you found her stolen phone on the scene? Detective, I’ve worked in the corrections system for a quarter century now, so forgive me for being skeptical.”