"No."
"Then do it.” Jake glanced at Nikki. “If Mary's in the firing line, then we need to do everything we can." The elevator doors slid open. Jake strode down the corridor and swiped his key card through the slot at the last of the half dozen doors.
Mary turned around as they entered, relief etched on her drawn features. “Nikki, Michael, are you all right?"
Nikki walked over and gave the older woman a hug. “Just a little wet,” she said softly. Jake took his wife's hand and led her toward the sofa. “We need to ask you a few questions." Mary's gaze jumped from person to person, finally coming to rest on Michael. “Something's wrong." He nodded and sat down on the coffee table beside Nikki. “You remember when we were talking earlier, you mentioned Boston?"
Mary nodded. “What has that got to do with what happened this morning?" He touched her thoughts, pushing deep into her memories. Controlling, but not intruding any more than necessary. “You were telling me about the prom where the two girls died."
"Yes.” Mary's voice was flat, remote.
Jake, who'd never really seen him in action like this before, stared at him, a touch of fear in his eyes.
"Did you know them?” Michael said softly.
"Yes."
"They were your friends?"
"Yes."
"Did you see them drinking alcohol anytime during the night?"
"No."
"Was anyone else drinking alcohol?"
"Not that I know of."
"Did anything unusual happen during the night?” He'd asked that question before, but this time his control was deeper.
She hesitated. “No."
The mere fact she hesitated suggested something had happened. “So what did you do that night?"
"We teased Billie."
"Billie?” He glanced at Jake, wondering if it was a name he knew. Jake shrugged. “Who's Billie?"
"Local nerd, and a bit of a loner. He turned up in his dad's blue suit." "And you taunted him?"
"Yes."
"Is it something you often did?"
"Yes."
"How many of you were there in this group?"
"Twelve."
No real surprise there. “Who were the main instigators?"
"Rachel and Monica."
"And they were the two who jumped off the roof?"
"Yes."