The technology lab, Jake noticed, was top-notch, with long rows of shiny silver Apple computer screens lining the desks. The back half of the large room was filled with what would have been called shop equipment when Jake was in school, but was probably called engineering equipment now. The instructor was involved with a group of students at a table who were huddled over a machine that looked like a cross between a vacuum cleaner and a robot.

Brendan was typing away furiously at one of the computer stations. He looked just like his yearbook photo, except for the blue-black shiner under his left eye.

Jake spoke with the instructor, who seemed dubious about letting them pull Brendan out to the hallway. But just then one of the kids working on the robot vacuum thing lit a blowtorch, and the instructor waived them away impatiently, turning back to his students.

In the hallway, Brendan immediately started to sweat, his dark curls sticking to his forehead. Jake could feel Murray tense, like a dog that had caught a scent.

Murray hadn’t even asked him a question before Brendan started speaking. “Is this about the fight?” he asked. “Because Will started it. He sucker punched me.”

“Will O’Connor?” Murray asked, and Brenan nodded.

A fight made sense, Murray thought. It would explain how some of the damage at the house had occurred. “That must have been some party, huh?” Murray asked.

“What?” Brendan said with a frown. “No, I had nothing to do with that fight. Will O’Connor jumped me in the locker room. Here, at school.”

Murray was thrown, but only for a second. “But there was a fight at the party? The one on River Road?” He went out on a limb: “Word is you were there.”

“Oh, man,” Brendan muttered. And then again, this time a little higher, “Oh, man.”

Jake and Murray exchanged looks. Jake almost felt bad for the kid. It was too easy.

“The place got trashed,” Murray said. “We’re looking at trespassing, vandalism, and I’m not sure what else.” He turned to Jake. “This is Assistant District Attorney Jake Tillman. He’ll be handling the charges, so it’s up to him, but it’s not looking good.”

Brendan looked miserable. “Who said I was there?”

Detective Murray shrugged. “That’s just what we heard. Is it true?”

Brendan was shaking his head. “I have a pretty strict curfew,” he said.

Not willing to lie, Jake thought. But also not ready to tell the truth.

“Your parents keep a pretty tight leash, huh?” Murray said. His voice was friendlier now, understanding. “How old are you, anyway?”

Brendan looked close to tears. “Seventeen.”

Now Murray was all smiles. “Seventeen! Well, there you go. If it turned out for some reason that you were there, that’s the magic number.”

Brendan looked hopeful. He was drowning, and Detective Murray had thrown him a rope. “It is?”