“So . . . she called you to meet her and what, hook up?” Brandon asked.

“No, she wanted . . .”

Brandon eased forward, waiting.

“What’d she want, Jason? No more bullshit,” Antonio said. “We know when you’re lying.”

He gulped again. “She told me she wanted to buy a gun.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Brandon watched him. “A gun.”

“Yeah.”

Brandon leaned back in his chair, trying to cover his surprise. He didn’t often get surprised in an interview. It was a point of pride for him.

“She didn’t want drugs?” Antonio sounded caught off guard, too.

“No. She wanted a pistol.”

“Why?” Brandon asked, his stomach filling with dread as he thought about all that blood in the woods.

“She didn’t say.” His gaze darted away. Brandon caught it, and he could tell Antonio did, too.

“She just randomly called you out of the blue and—”

“Yes. I swear.” He looked at Brandon, desperate now as he started to internalize the depth of the shit he was in. Forget missing a drug test. Possession of a firearm, much less selling one, would put him in a world of hurt with the judge who’d given him probation.

Antonio looked at Brandon. “Sounds like we need to get Pruitt in here.”

“Wait! Just wait, okay? I’ll tell you whatever you want. There’s no reason to call him.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely call him,” Brandon said. “But it would be good if we could tell him you’re cooperating with our investigation.”

“I am. I will.”

The door opened, and Brandon’s lieutenant leaned his head in. He’d been watching the interview from the next room.

“Peña, a word?” he asked. Antonio stepped out, and the lieutenant gave Brandon a sharp look. “While we talk, you may want to advise Mr. Mandrapilias of his Miranda rights.”

When the lieutenant stepped out, Brandon turned to Jason and recited the Miranda warning. The man wasn’t in custody—they’d made it clear he was free to leave—but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Do you understand?” he asked at the end.

Jason nodded.

“Respond yes or no. Look at the camera.”

He looked up at the camera mounted on the wall. “Yes, I understand.”

Antonio stepped back into the room and took his place leaning against the wall.

“Cooperating doesn’t mean lying,” Brandon said. “That makes it seem like you’ve got something to hide. Such as what you did to Vanessa.”

“I didn’t do anything to her! I swear. I met her for, like, five minutes—”

“Where?” Antonio cut in.

“Out by some lake. Off an old road on the edge of town.”

“Why’d you meet there?” Brandon asked.

“I don’t know. She wanted to meet up there. She said it was private.”