“Mr. Lerner,” Frames said, “I realize this is a difficult time. But this is a murder investigation, and we need any information you have on this young woman.”

“You know what? I’m really not comfortable saying anything else.” Lerner pressed his fingertips on the table edge and stared at them. “I don’t mean to be opaque, but I don’t want to commit myself to anything else.”

For a moment neither man spoke.

“So, are we, like, through?” Lerner pushed back his chair and grabbed the Starbucks cup.

“For now.” Frames waited a beat. “At some point we’ll want a full statement.”

Frames let Lerner walk out the door ahead of him and then pointed him toward the stairs at the end of the corridor. As he watched Lerner walk away, Frames thought: You can be opaque or whatever the fuck you want. But we are definitely not, like, through.

Part II

Chapter Fourteen

(i)

(WEDNESDAY, 10:05 A.M.)

Mahler leaned against the wall in his usual spot in the VCI room watching Frames. He saw a wariness in the other detective’s eyes. “Where’s Lerner now?”

“He left,” Frames said.

“You let him walk out?”

“He didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else.”

“So, in your interview, this guy says the victim was high-strung and unpredictable. And he’s not surprised she was killed. She liked some version of sex he declines to tell us. Any of this sound like something that might be important?”

Frames held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I knew we had to bring him back in, but I was thinking, this guy’s just found out his employee’s been murdered. He needs some time to—”

“To what? Figure out what his story’s going to be? Go find him, and take Daniel with you.” As he spoke, Mahler already regretted the anger in his voice. He disliked calling out an officer’s mistakes in front of others. He took a deep breath.

Rivas broke the silence. “You think this guy Lerner was involved with the victim?”

Mahler pushed himself off the wall and walked closer to the other detectives’ desks. “I don’t know. But he’s withholding something.”

“If the victim was being treated for bipolar, that could be what Lerner means by ‘high-strung,’” Eden said.

Mahler shrugged. “Yeah, but why did Lerner say he wasn’t surprised she was killed?” He turned to Coyle. “Get a warrant for the victim’s apartment, car, phone, the works. Once you’ve got it, go out to the apartment. Her roommates might be able to tell us where she was Monday night. And get a search warrant for her room.”

“You want me to go?” Coyle asked.

“You have a problem with that?” Mahler sighed.