What I've Done (Morgan Dane Book 4)(26)

Lance stopped short. He’d expected Isaac to be alone, but two young men sat at a rectangular dining table. A bottle of whiskey and three empty shot glasses served as the centerpiece. The glasses looked clean. They hadn’t started drinking yet. Maybe they were saving the whiskey for after the interview.

Lance knew the men from their photos. They were Noah’s friends who had gone to the club with him. Justin O’Brien was the skinny redhead. A graphic artist, his eyes were red-rimmed and watery. The short, pudgy guy was Chase Baker, a programmer.

Isaac took his place at the head of the table and nodded toward two empty chairs at the opposite end. Morgan and Lance eased into seats. The tension in the room was palpable. It would have been preferable to meet with the young men individually, but technically, they weren’t required to speak to the defense counsel until the trial. Lance and Morgan would have to take whatever interviews they could get.

Justin’s fingers curled into fists on the table. “My lawyer said we don’t have to talk to you at all.”

“This is true.” Morgan set her bag at her feet and removed her notebook and pen. “You are under no obligation to meet with us now. But you will eventually have to answer my questions in court.”

“Look, we’re just doing our jobs.” Lance splayed his palms toward the men. “We need to verify the facts you already gave the police, and we’ll be out of your way.”

“Wouldn’t you like to be absolutely sure the right person is held responsible for Noah’s death?” Morgan added.

Isaac shot her a look. “Seriously? I watched the news. She was there with Noah. Her fingerprints were on the knife.” He ticked off his points on his fingers. “And his blood was . . .” He swallowed and looked away, as if unable to continue.

All over her.

Isaac swallowed. “I heard on the news that she says she doesn’t remember anything. Is that true?”

“You can’t believe everything you hear on the news,” Lance said.

Without medical tests proving she’d been drugged, Haley’s memory loss sounded fabricated. They needed a better defense, something a jury might actually buy.

“So it’s not true?” Isaac’s jaw stiffened.

“She remembered some things,” Lance answered vaguely.

“At this point, we have more questions than answers,” Morgan chimed in, “which is why we’re conducting a full investigation.”

Chase’s eyes hardened with anger. “Don’t bullshit us. Are you going to try and get her off on an insanity plea? Because that’s not right. She should pay for what she did.”

Morgan let Chase’s statement fade without comment. Noah’s friends were venting, which was totally understandable. She let a few seconds pass, hoping everyone had settled enough to get the interview back on track. “Tell me about Noah. How long have you known him?”

Isaac exhaled audibly through his nose. “We all met at the university.”

Chase nodded, his jaw clenching.

Morgan continued. “Did he have hobbies?”

“Video games,” Isaac said. “That’s about it.”

“No outdoor sports or physical activities?” Morgan asked.

Judging from their pale complexions, Lance thought they spent most of their time inside.

“My dad is a hunter. He took all four of us on a big trip last year.” Chase shook his head. “Noah was traumatized by seeing his first dead deer. So no, he wasn’t an outdoor guy.”

Morgan made a notation. “Before Friday night, when did you last see him?”

“He had a gaming party at his house the night before. We were all there, plus maybe a dozen other players. A couple of guys brought their girlfriends. People came and went all evening.”

Morgan tapped her pen. “Can you make a list of people you know were there?”

“I already gave it to the cops.” Isaac shrugged. “You can get it from them.”

But the fact remained that there would be numerous unidentified fingerprints at the crime scene, which was actually typical. The sheriff’s department would eliminate the prints of close family and friends and run the leftover prints through the Automated Fingerprint Identification System. If any of the prints were those of a known felon, they would turn up in AFIS. Otherwise, the leftover prints were simply kept on file in case another suspect was identified.

“Noah shouldn’t be dead,” Justin blurted out. He sniffed and swiped a hand over his eyes. His face looked strained, as if he were holding back tears.

Had Justin been closer to Noah than Isaac or Chase? Or was he simply more sad than angry? Everyone grieved differently.

Lance unzipped his jacket. “Before Friday night, had any of you ever been to Beats?”

“Yes.” Isaac interlaced his fingers on the placemat in front of him. “Since it opened, we’ve gone most weekends. Grey’s Hollow isn’t Manhattan. Beats is the best club around. Everybody goes there.”

“Did you all go to the club together last Friday night?” Morgan noted the date and people present.

“The three of us drove together.” Isaac motioned between them. “Noah was running late, so he met us there.”

Morgan held her pen over her notebook. “When did Noah notice Haley?”

“Right away. She was all over him.” Justin’s lips pressed into a flat line. “We had a beer together, but he was more interested in her.”

“Did it bother you that he was spending all his time with her?” Morgan asked.

“Why would that be a problem? He wanted to hook up with her.” Isaac shot Justin a look. “Noah didn’t usually go for the slutty type, but he was really into her. We all let him do his thing.” He frowned. “But I don’t get it. She definitely wanted to go home with him. Did she plan to kill him all along? Is she some kind of psycho-killer bitch? The whole thing is totally fucked.”

Lance couldn’t agree more with the last sentiment. “Was anyone else paying attention to Haley?”

Isaac shook his head. “Noah had it wrapped up.”

“Did you all leave together?” Morgan asked.

“We walked out together,” Isaac said. “Then Haley and Noah left in his car.”

“What did you three do?” Lance scanned their faces.

Isaac shrugged. “Not much. We came back here and played video games.”

“Do you remember what time your party broke up?” Lance wanted specific times to establish alibis.

Isaac gestured to the adjoining living room. “Justin and Chase ended up crashing on my couches.”

Lance leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “The three of you were together all night?”

“Yes.” Isaac blinked and looked away, his eyes misting. “We were hanging out and chilling, while she was killing Noah.”

Eyes tearing, Justin abruptly stood, turned, and punched the wall. For a skinny guy, he was either stronger than he looked, or his emotions lent him some power, because he left a decent dent in the wallboard. He spun around and stared at Morgan and Lance, his chest heaving, his face red. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. The fist he’d hammered into the wall opened and closed as if he were testing his fingers for damage.

“You should put some ice on that hand,” Lance said. “Could be broken.”

Justin flinched at the words. Then his shoulders caved in. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter and fled the house. The front door slammed behind him.

“He’s taking it hard.” Isaac stared out the window, but his gaze didn’t seem to be focused on the wooded view. “We all are.”

“We understand.” Lance did commiserate with them. They hadn’t even buried their friend yet. But there was no way to investigate Noah’s murder without digging into everyone’s background, including the victim’s.

Especially the victim’s.

“Did Noah have a temper?” Morgan asked.

“No.” Isaac picked up the whiskey and poured two shots. He slid one across the table to Chase. “He was a quiet guy.”

Morgan wrote something in her personal shorthand. “Did he have a recent girlfriend?”

Isaac spun his shot glass on the table. “He broke up with a girl last summer.”

“Do you know her name?” she asked.

“Sorry.” Isaac ran a finger around the rim of the small glass. “I don’t remember. They didn’t go out for long. Noah wasn’t ready to be a one-woman guy.”

“Her name is Callie Fisher.” Chase tossed his shot down. “But Isaac is right. They weren’t together more than a month or two. Noah lost interest in her pretty fast.”

“If Noah didn’t have a steady girl”—Morgan lifted her pen and looked up at the two men—“did he hook up often?”

Chase banged a fist on the table. If he was trying to intimidate Morgan, he was going to have to try much harder. She ignored his display of temper. Lance had seen her up against hardened criminals. These two geeks were hardly menacing.

“Stop it!” Chase leaned away from the table, his body tense as he jabbed a finger toward Morgan. “I know what you’re trying to do here, but I won’t let you say anything bad about Noah. He was a great guy.” Anger glittered in his eyes. “He didn’t deserve to die like that.” He turned away and crossed his arms over his chest.