“I want you to tell me the truth about Vanessa Adams.”

His expression didn’t change, which was just as telling as the too-slight shrug. He’d expected the question.

“When was the last time you saw her?” Brandon asked.

Jason uncrossed his arms and rested them on the table. “I told you before. I don’t know.”

“That’s not what you told me before. Do you remember what you said?”

The guy’s brow furrowed.

“You said, ‘It’s been a while.’ You said you hadn’t seen her since May.” Brandon paused. “When was the last time you talked to her on the phone?”

“I don’t know, man.”

Brandon turned slightly and glanced up at the camera.

“You sure? Think about it.”

“Yeah. I mean, I talk to a lot of women. I work at a bar.”

Brandon opened the folder in front of him and frowned down at some paperwork. It had nothing to do with the interview, but it helped to make the witness nervous.

After a full minute, he closed the folder and looked at Jason. “So . . . that’s it? That’s all you got? You’re so popular with women, you can’t remember them all?”

A buzz emanated from Jason’s pocket. He slid his hand inside it.

“You need to get that? I’ll wait.”

Jason silenced the phone and recrossed his arms defiantly.

“Jason, here’s the deal.” Brandon leaned forward on his elbows. “We know you’re lying. The only question is, why?”

The door opened and Antonio stepped into the room. He held up his cell phone.

Brandon watched Jason’s face as awareness dawned. Antonio tucked his phone into his pocket and came to stand beside the table, propping his shoulder against the wall.

“The phone in your pocket called Vanessa Adams twice last weekend.” Brandon let the words hang in the air. “We’ve got the records.”

“So, what’s a guy on probation for drug charges need with a burner phone?” Antonio asked.

“I don’t—”

“That’s a rhetorical question,” Brandon said. “You don’t need to answer it. What you do need to tell us is why you called Vanessa. And why your fingerprints are on the window of her car—right now, as we sit here today—if you haven’t seen her since May.”

Jason didn’t speak. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed.

“I saw her for a couple minutes on Sunday.”

“When Sunday?” Brandon asked.

“Sunday night. I don’t know. After ten, I guess.”

For the first time, Brandon felt like he was getting the truth. And the timing lined up with a call to Vanessa’s phone at 9:40 p.m.

“Did you call her, or did she call you?” Antonio asked.

“First, she called me. It was, like, Wednesday I think. Wednesday of last week.”

Antonio glanced at Brandon. That also lined up with Vanessa’s phone records.