Reese held up a ring. “Is this your ring, Paul?”
He studied it a moment, then said reluctantly, “Yeah.”
“Did you give Chloe this ring?”
He swallowed nervously. “I—I guess I did.”
“You’re not sure?”
“I remember now. Yes, I did.”
“You came to Washington with some classmates, right? Kind of a school group?”
“That’s right.”
“Was Chloe part of that group?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where’s Chloe now, Paul?”—Detective Bernstein
“I—I don’t know.”
“When did you last see her?”—Detective Hogan
“I guess a couple of days ago.”
“Two days ago?”—Detective Reese
“Yeah.”
“And where was that?”—Detective Bernstein
“In the White House.”
The detectives looked at one another in surprise. “She was in the White House?” Reese asked.
“Yes, sir. We were all on a private tour. Chloe’s mother arranged it.”
“And Chloe was with you?”—Detective Hogan
“Yes.”
“Did anything unusual happen on the tour?”—Detective Bernstein
“What do you mean?”
“Did you meet or talk to anyone on the tour?”—Detective Bernstein
“Well, sure, the guide.”
“And that’s all?”—Detective Reese
“That’s right.”
“Was Chloe with the group all the time?”—Detective Hogan
“Yes—” Yerby hesitated. “No. She slipped away to go to the ladies’ room. She was gone about fifteen minutes. When she came back, she—” He stopped.
“She what?” Reese asked.
“Nothing. She just came back.”
The boy was obviously lying.
“Son,” Detective Reese asked, “do you know that Chloe Houston is dead?”
They were watching him closely. “No! My God! How?” The surprised look on his face could have been feigned.
“Don’t you know?”—Detective Bernstein
“No! I—I can’t believe it.”
“You had nothing to do with her death?”—Detective Hogan
“Of course not! I love…I loved Chloe.”
“Did you ever go to bed with her?”—Detective Bernstein
“No. We—we were waiting. We were going to get married.”
“But sometimes you did drugs together?”—Detective Reese
“No! We never did drugs.”
The door opened and a burly detective, Harry Carter, came into the room. He walked over to Reese and whispered something in his ear. Reese nodded. He sat there staring at Paul Yerby.
“When was the last time you saw Chloe Houston?”
“I told you, in the White House.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
Detective Reese leaned forward. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Paul. Your fingerprints are all over the Imperial Suite at the Monroe Arms Hotel. How did they get there?”
Paul Yerby sat there, pale-faced.
“You can quit lying now. We’ve got you nailed.”
“I—I didn’t do anything.”
“Did you book the suite at the Monroe Arms?”—Detective Bernstein
“No, I didn’t.” The emphasis was on the “I.”
Detective Reese pounced on it. “But you know who did?”
“No.” The answer came too quickly.
“You admit you were in the suite?”—Detective Hogan
“Yes, but—but Chloe was alive when I left.”
“Why did you leave?”—Detective Hogan
“She asked me to. She—she was expecting someone.”
“Come on, Paul. We know you killed her.”—Detective Bernstein
“No!” He was trembling. “I swear I had nothing to do with it. I—I just went up to the suite with her. I only stayed a little while.”
“Because she was expecting someone?”—Detective Reese
“Yes. She—she was kind of excited.”
“Did she tell you who she was going to meet?”—Detective Hogan
He was licking his lips. “No.”
“You’re lying. She did tell you.”
“You said she was excited. What about?”—Detective Reese
Paul licked his lips again. “About—about the man she was going to meet there for dinner.”
“Who was the man, Paul?”—Detective Bernstein
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”—Detective Hogan
“I promised Chloe I would never tell anyone.”
“Chloe is dead.”
Paul Yerby’s eyes filled with tears. “I just can’t believe it.”
“Give us the man’s name.”—Detective Reese
“I can’t do that. I promised.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen to you: You’re going to spend tonight in jail. In the morning, if you give us the name of the man she was going to meet, we’ll let you go. Otherwise, we’re going to book you for murder one.”—Detective Reese
They waited for him to speak.
Silence.
Nick Reese nodded to Bernstein. “Take him away.”
Detective Reese returned to Captain Miller’s office.
“I have bad news and I have worse news.”
“I haven’t time for this, Nick.”
“The bad news is that I’m not sure it was the boy who gave her the drug. The worse news is that the girl’s mother is the governor of Colorado.”