Cade scratches his head. “Five or six the night before, until,” he looks at Samantha, “now, I guess.”

Oh lord, I think. This means the love birds haven’t left their nest in three days.

“And can anyone confirm?” Teddy asks.

“I can.” Samantha laughs, a little giddily.

“Anyone else?”

“What,” Samantha smirks, “like, a threesome or something?”

“Do you have roommates?”

Her mouth forms an O, but she doesn’t look embarrassed.

“Yes, two. Chloë and Alex.”

“Were either of them home Tuesday morning?”

She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think so.” A glance at Cade for confirmation. And then, “Actually, I remember hearing the door, maybe around nine thirty? I remember because I thought, well, if everyone was gone we could—” Another look at Cade and his flush deepens. “I’m kind of loud.” It bursts from her, and Cade’s clearly mortified, but she’s gauging Teddy’s and my reaction. We don’t give her one.

“Okay, we can confirm with your roommate. Which one do you think that was?”

She looks disappointed by our lack of response. “I don’t know.” Her eyes flicker to the door. “Probably Alex. She’s always forgetting shit, getting to the car, and having to run back in. I’m pretty sure I heard the door slam a couple times.”

“Great. Thanks. That will help a lot.” Teddy smiles, and Cade shifts, drawing her closer.

“Okay.” Teddy sits back. “What can you tell us about Jay?”

A tightening, bracing movement from Samantha.

“You didn’t like him?” I ask. Teddy’s eyes flicker to me.

“He was an asshole.”

Was. She’s already relegated him to the past.

“Really?” I say, letting surprise inflect my voice although this doesn’t surprise me at all. “All the guys say he was great, a really wonderful guy.”

Her whole face has hardened while I’m speaking, but then it freezes, and I see in her eyes that she’s realized if she’s the only one who thinks he’s an asshole, she might have just moved herself onto our suspect list.

I decide to back off. Teddy waits, and when I don’t push it, he turns to Cade. “Is that why you don’t sleep at the house anymore? Jay was an asshole?”

“No, I mean”—a slight twisting of Samantha under his arm—“he was a slob. You saw our room, right? Clothes, beer cans, and hash everywhere.” I look at Teddy; so someone had cleaned up before we got there. “He would leave dip cups all over the place and they would start to mold. I have”—Cade pushes up his glasses—“allergies, and it was making me sick living there.” I think somewhere back home, there’s a mother who rushed to grab his inhaler and put her palm to his forehead whenever he so much as sniffled.

“So not an asshole?”

Another twist from Samantha.