“It’s my senior year.” Jolene lifted her wide blue eyes up to meet his. She gave a tiny smile.

Jolene had reminded him of that fact several times throughout the interview. He watched her knee bounce. She was nervous. He’d seen similar behavior when a soldier was called into the commander’s office.

“Sydney was supposed to come to your house after school on Thursday?”

“Yes, but she didn’t show up. I figured she’d changed her mind. She did that sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” He leaned forward.

“Well, for a while there were times when we’d invite Sydney to hang out. She’d agree and then cancel.”

“Do you know why?”

“She never told us why. We guessed it was a boy.”

“Sydney had a boyfriend?”

“Oh, no.” Jolene’s eyes went round. “I’m not saying that. I don’t think she did. Sydney never told me if she did. She wasn’t allowed to date, but why else would she back out of plans? We’ve been friends forever.”

Good point. Love had a way of interfering in someone’s routine. His thoughts wandered to Lane. She would be a good interference in his day.

Ms. Carson tapped her fingers on the table, bringing Charlie’s attention back to the room. “And Sydney never showed up at your house?”

“No.” Jolene’s lip trembled and she covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks.

There was something about this Cinderella-esque girl that made him wary. Jolene was popular, smart, and probably the source of many boys’ daydreams. But she was nervous. Those big blue eyes were unable to hold his gaze for long. Maybe she was just scared. After all, her best friend was murdered. Charlie pushed a box of tissues toward her.

“I’m sorry.” Jolene wiped her face, and like a faucet the waterworks were done. She began picking at her silver nail polish. Her leg resumed its bounce. “It’s been hard without Sydney.”

“Please, Deputy Lynch.” Ms. Carson reached her hand over to his. “We’ve been here long enough. Jolene’s tired, and she lost her best friend.”

“Just one more question.” He looked at his notes. “Did Sydney like to paint?”

“Paint?” Jolene laughed. “Like an artist? No. Definitely not.”

“She never took an art class at school?”

“No way.” Jolene leaned in. “The art students are a little weird. She’d never hang out with that group.”

“Is that all?” Her mother rose but stopped when Jolene remained in her chair.

“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

Jolene fidgeted.

“Anything that might help.”

“I don’t want to get Sydney in trouble.” Jolene’s eyes darted between her mother’s bewildered face and him.

It was silly for Jolene to think she could get her dead friend in trouble, but she was just a kid—a nervous kid with something to say.