“This goes with my theory, though. Explains why she was there that night,” I say. “The SD card is in Beverly’s hands now.”

Jamal gives me a hard look.

“I downloaded everything onto my phone first.” I put my hands up in defense to explain I didn’t just give everything away.

I tell him more about my suspicions around Chris and Scott not wanting people to know they were at the rally where the girl was shot in the crowd.

“Chris didn’t like that Angela supported your stories in ‘Tracy’s Corner,’ ” Jamal says. “He thought your articles were anti-police. When I got my Susan Touric interview, he wanted Angela to stop it because he thought I’d play the sympathy card about Dad and blame the police for a botched investigation.”

“That the real reason you both were upset after the show?” The pieces I’d been trying to put together are starting to line up.

Jamal doesn’t meet my eyes. My throat constricts. My lie about having suspects was tangled up with Jamal and Angela’s strategy to find the truth about what might be an underground hate group. I don’t know if I can forgive myself. Jamal turns away until his emotions settle and he can speak again. He clenches his fist in front of his mouth.

“Angela was supposed to meet me after work. She never showed. She was like that. I thought she was mad you walked in on us together, so I didn’t worry at first. I waited at Quincy’s.”

My heart races. Finally I’m hearing more about what happened that night.

“Angela called me to meet her out by the Pike. When I got there, Chris was down by the dock. That’s when I saw Angela on the ground.”

Jamal’s voice is shaky. I can see how much that night messed him up to see Angela, and maybe nothing he could do about it.

“Chris yelled at me like I did something. He was freaking out. I was trying to get past him to Angela and he was freaking out, so I decked him. We started fighting.” Jamal chokes on his words. “I got past Chris. That’s when I saw it—blood seeping from the back of her head. Chris kept saying it was my fault. Angela’s eyes were open, but she was gone. I yelled at Chris to get help. He ran to his truck. I laid my jacket over her. Then I realized he was driving away. I could hear a car coming off the highway.”

Jamal faces me, his eyes clouding and guilt washing over him.

“Why did you run instead of wait for the police?”