They turned the pages in silence for a few moments until they came to a photo of a pep rally in the school gym. Brandi and the other cheerleaders were in front of the crowd and the band was seated behind them.

“Is that who I think it is?” Lisa asked, pointing to a boy with dark-rimmed glasses who was holding a trumpet.

“Kirby Welles?” Hannah guessed, flipping back to the index. “Here’s his name. I didn’t know he went to Browerville High.”

“Neither did I.”

Lisa started paging through the yearbook again, looking for anyone else she might recognize. Hannah was silent, barely looking at the pages. She was too busy going over the conversation she’d had with Kirby. He’d claimed he had just met Brandi tonight and that was clearly a lie. He’d known Brandi since she was Mary Kay Hinklemeyer, junior varsity cheerleader. And that explained why Kirby had been so upset to hear that she was dead.

“Thanks for your help, Lisa,” Hannah said, pushing back her chair.

“You’re welcome. You’re going to see Kirby Welles?”

“Oh, yes,” Hannah said, heading out of the library at a fast clip. By virtue of his lie, Jordan High’s bandleader had just become her prime suspect.

<15>

While Hannah was upstairs, the banquet room had undergone a transformation, thanks to the Jordan High athletic department, whose members had volunteered to move tables and chairs for the party. Except for two long rectangular tables near the kitchen, the dining room tables had been folded and returned to the storage area under the stairs. In their place, dozens of round, four-person tables had been arranged near the giant Christmas tree, leaving a good-sized circular area, with the trees in the center, for a dance floor.

The lights had been dimmed, the coffee had been replenished, and Hannah noticed that quite a few adults were availing themselves of the punchbowl full of English Eggnog that Rod Metcalf was manning. A second punchbowl, almost identical but lacking the rum that flavored the first, was available for those who didn’t want to consume, or weren’t old enough to legally consume, the alcoholic version.

Kirby Welles and the jazz ensemble had gone through their Christmas music, and now they were playing a medley of jazz standards. A half-dozen couples were dancing to “Strangers in the Night,” and Hannah watched them without any real interest until she caught sight of Laura Jorgensen dancing cheek-to-cheek with a tall, dark-haired man. The couple turned and Hannah recognized Drew Vavra, a member of her graduating class at Jordan High and a graduate of the University of Minnesota. Just this September, Drew had been hired to replace Boyd Watson, and he was the new history teacher and head coach of the Lake Eden Gulls.

Hannah glanced down at Laura’s feet again. Drew was a nice guy, steady and reliable, and not bad to look at, either. Hannah hoped that Laura was wearing the special shoes for him. Since she would have been hard-pressed to slip a sheet advertising the cookie specials of the day at The Cookie Jar between them, it was a safe bet that Laura and Drew were a lot more than casual acquaintances.