“Hunter Mason,” Nate said, “you’re under arrest for theft.”
Laura caught her breath as Nate read Hunter his Miranda rights, wondering if that was the only charge they would be adding to his rap sheet this evening.
She could only hope there would be one more: murder.
***
“You okay to go in?”
Laura turned to see Nate coming toward her, a slim file in his hand. It didn’t contain much: just the details of the phones that had been taken, including their activation and deactivation dates and times, as well as the printed records from the store. They’d brought the kid back to the precinct, where he was currently sitting under the watchful eye of a deputy in an interview room.
“Yeah.” Laura threw back the last of her coffee and dumped the empty cup into the bin. “I’m ready.” She had recovered from her earlier exertions, and the coffee had helped her to stave off both the tiredness and the small headache from her vision. It was no substitute for real sleep, but for now, it would have to do. It was getting on toward midnight, but if this was their killer, they would soon be able to get back to a bed somewhere.
“Usual approach?” Nate asked.
“Usual approach,” Laura confirmed with a smile. “Go ahead, Bad Cop.”
She followed Nate into the room, the heavy door snapping shut behind them with a ring of finality. Hunter was slumped over in his chair, his thin shoulder blades seeming almost to stick out from his body through his thin store uniform shirt. He looked like he hadn’t yet finished growing into his lankiness, like he still needed to finish filling out.
He looked up with alarm as they entered, though he didn’t change his posture. He didn’t say a thing, just swallowed.
“My dad said I should wait until I have a lawyer,” he said immediately, his eyes wide and shining as Laura took a seat opposite him. Nate was slower to join her, slapping the file down on the table in front of his chair first.
“Sure, we can wait for a lawyer to get here,” she said. “You’re entitled to that. Unless you just want to speed things up and tell us why you committed these murders right off the bat.”
It would almost have been funny, the way his eyes widened even further, his face turning into a comic book expression of shock. It would have been, except for the two dead women—and the third that Laura had glimpsed in her vision.
“What the fuck?” he burst out, shaking his head rapidly. “Murder? I—I don’t have anything to do with any murders. What are you talking about?”
“You want to play innocent?” Nate asked, his voice a deep rumble beside her. He slid into it so easily: the menacing, angry, vengeful man. A perfect foil to her helpful, innocent woman act. “We can do it that way. It will just take longer. You’re going to tell us the truth, one way or another.”
“No, I’m serious—I thought this was about stolen phones.” He looked even more panicked than before, his head snapping from side to side as he looked at the pair of them. His hands were gesturing wide on the table, his face pale and drained. “You never said anything about a murder!”
“Why did you think we might be looking into the phones in the first place, Hunter?” Laura asked. She kept her voice calm and controlled in comparison, with just a hint of accusation. Enough to keep him thinking that she and Nate had all the power—and that they weren’t going to believe his lies. Not enough to make it seem like she wasn’t trying to help.
“I…” Hunter hesitated. He seemed to search the tabletop for something, before looking up at her again with a pained expression. “I thought it was just about the weed.”
Laura exchanged a glance with Nate. He had a cunning curve to his lips, as if he was amused by the story Hunter was giving them. “What weed, Hunter?” Laura asked.
“I…” Hunter struggled, looki
ng down again. The muscles of his jaw clenched and moved as he fought with his inner impulses. “I stole the phones, okay? I did. I just—I don’t have anything to do with any murder. I swear!”
“Why did you take the phones?” Laura asked patiently. They were getting somewhere here, she knew. She believed the kid. He was nervous enough, frantic enough. It didn’t look like he was acting. But she also didn’t like the direction this was going—because she was starting to believe that he was innocent.
“I’ve been dealing pot on the side,” he said, examining his own hands as he said it. His face was flushed beet red, and his eyes were welling up with liquid, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “Just bringing in a little bit of extra cash so I could get a new car. That’s all. I used the prepaid phones to talk to buyers. That’s why I’ve been taking them.”
Laura shifted in her seat and glanced at the file, a silent signal to Nate.
“If that’s the case,” he said, taking his cue as he pulled out the phone records they had been able to gather, “then why were these phones turned on, activated, and used to make only one call—both of them right before the murder of a local woman?”
Hunter shook his head from side to side. “I don’t know, man,” he said. “I took more phones than I needed. I… I keep them with my stash. Maybe I lost one or two of them somewhere. I don’t know.”
“We’re going to need something a lot more convincing than maybe, Hunter,” Nate threatened. But Laura knew it was no good. The kid was telling the truth. He really had no idea.
He was probably high at some point and left the phones somewhere. She wouldn’t put it past him. Or maybe a wily client had pickpocketed him, only to wind up with phones rather than pot. Figuring out what exactly had happened to them could turn out to be impossible—and it would take precious time.
Time they didn’t have. Because the killer was still out there—and that meant that, even now, he might be going after the woman Laura had seen.