Chapter 7 #2
“We didn’t say that,” said Evan. “We’re trying to get a current picture of what goes on there. Who hangs out. We were told you’ve been there before.”
“Everybody’s gone there. Not just me,” said RJ. “Who said my name?” Anger sparked from his eyes.
“Doesn’t matter,” said Noelle. “We’ve got a list of names. When were you last there?” she repeated.
He slumped and looked at the cats. One had decided to sleep, but the other was intently watching the exchange. “I was there Saturday night,” he muttered. “There were probably twenty-five or thirty people there.”
“It had to be nearly freezing,” said Noelle, recalling how she’d cranked up her gas fireplace and used a heated throw that evening.
RJ shrugged. “That’s why we build a few fires.”
“Anything unusual happen?”
The teen sat up straight. “Was that guy already dead?” He paled, which made his freckles stand out. “We were partying near a dead guy?” His voice cracked again.
His mother entered with two mugs of coffee. “You shouldn’t be questioning him without me in the room,” she snapped as she thrust the mugs at Noelle and Evan. Evan’s mug was a solid blue; Noelle’s read Coffee makes me poop.
Noelle looked at the phrase. “That’s hilarious,” she said with a fake grin. She wasn’t about to give the mother any satisfaction over her attempt to embarrass her. Then she took a long sip.
Ugh. Lukewarm.
“Are you eighteen?” Evan asked RJ.
“Yes.”
Evan looked at his mother. “He doesn’t require an adult. Unless you feel you really need one?” He glanced at RJ.
Noelle appreciated the play on the teen’s ego.
“I’m good.” RJ cleared his throat. “I don’t remember anything weird happening. Some people were drinking beer. Others just standing around talking. I saw a few couples making out and one that went off into the woods, but they came right back. It was fucking cold.”
“Robert James!”
“Sorry,” he muttered to his mother.
“Did you know everyone there?” asked Noelle.
“Pretty much everyone was from my school. There were a couple of guys from a Bend high school. Don’t know their names, but I think I recognized them from baseball.”
“Any adults?” asked Evan.
“Nah.” RJ’s expression cleared. “I heard it was Emma Chambers who found the body this morning. That true?”
“You know Emma?” asked Noelle.
He shrugged. “It’s a small school. I know who she is, but I don’t hang around with her. Can’t think of who does.”
“You can’t think of who she’s friends with?” asked Noelle. No doubt RJ’s friends were a different group. Athletes. Middle-class kids. Emma was . . . not.
“Always a loner,” he said. His brows came together. “I don’t think I’ve seen her around lately. Maybe not since before winter break. Her locker is near mine,” he quickly added.
“She’s homeschooled,” said Noelle.
“Well, that’s new.” RJ snorted. “Not sure who’d teach her. Her mom took off years ago.”
Ire burned in Noelle’s throat. “She has a father. And she’s old enough to study on her own.”
“Father,” echoed RJ’s mother. “He’s useless. I guarantee he didn’t create a homeschooling curriculum for that girl.”
Evan shifted his weight on the sofa, and Noelle knew the tones and attitudes of the Hamptons toward Emma were bothering him too.
Snobs.
“What other gossip have you heard about the body?” asked Noelle, including the mother in her question.
Neither spoke.
“No one is questioning who it is or what happened?” asked Evan skeptically. “No one is worrying about community safety?”
He has a point. Someone was killed near their town. But I don’t see any concern for the victim or that a killer could be nearby.
“We always lock our doors at night,” said Mrs. Hampton.
Noelle waited for her to say more, but that was the extent of her statement. Noelle dug a small notebook out of her bag and handed it to RJ along with a pen. “We need names of people you saw there on Saturday.”
The room was quiet as RJ worked. He included some information from his phone and occasionally wrinkled his nose in concentration.
Noelle continued to drink the bad coffee. The black cat got to its feet, did a Halloween-cat stretch, and then promptly lay back down.
RJ handed over his list and indicated the last name. “I remembered an older guy who shows up sometimes. I think he graduated about five years ago. He’s brought hard alcohol a few times.”
“Was he there Saturday?” asked Noelle, looking at the list. The last name was Trevor Baylor.
RJ’s handwriting is atrocious.
“I think so.”
She set the poop mug on the coffee table and stood. Evan did the same.
They said a polite goodbye and were out the door. As they bundled themselves into the SUV, Evan turned to Noelle. “I almost died when I saw your mug. That took some balls on her part,” he said with a big grin. “I need to get a mug like that for the lieutenant.”
“Tell me if you do, so I can be there to see his reaction,” said Noelle. There was a running joke in the office about how much time the lieutenant spent in the bathroom. “What did you think of RJ?”
“I suspect he’s a teenager who probably doesn’t think about anyone but himself. Which I feel is pretty normal. What was the deal with their attitude toward Emma Chambers?”
“Her family is poor.” Noelle’s words were clipped.
“They were so dismissive.” Evan glared as he started the engine. “And I still don’t know what to think about their lack of concern for the victim or that a killer could be walking around.”
“I don’t either.” Noelle thought back over the interview. “At least we have a few more names. But which do we visit next?”
“Let’s stop and talk to Chief Daly. I bet he could prioritize our list.” Evan put the SUV in gear and pulled away from the curb.
“Good idea.” Noelle looked at the list and thought about the Hampton interview.
Neither asked who died.
Weird.