it’s critically important that you be completely honest with us.”
Lauren looked at her quizzically. “Well, yeah, of course.”
“When was the last time you saw your roommate?”
“She was here Friday morning when I left for my classes. After that I caught a train to Albany, where my parents live. I didn’t come home until Sunday night.”
“And Jessie wasn’t here?”
“No, but I didn’t think too much about it, really. I mean, she often stays with her boyfriends.”
“Boyfriends? Plural?”
“Well, whoever she’s seeing at the time. She didn’t like to get attached to anyone. Jessica was kind of wild, but really super nice. My dad has a hard time just paying my tuition, and Jessica took care of November and December rent for me. She didn’t take my money when I tried to pay it in January.”
“Is Jessica from a wealthy family?” Suzanne asked, though these were hardly luxury accommodations.
Lauren shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know.”
“Did she have a job?”
“No.”
“How long have you known Jessica?”
“Since August. This is my first year, her second. She advertised for a roommate, and we hit it off.”
“Did you socialize together?”
“Not really.”
Suzanne didn’t understand how someone who advertised for a roommate could so easily cover said roommate’s rent for two months and not want to be repaid.
Panetta asked, “Do you know Jessica’s friends? Does she have a boyfriend? Or an ex-boyfriend?”
“Um,” Lauren frowned.
“She had no friends?” Suzanne asked, surprised.
“No, but I don’t really know her friends well. She didn’t really have a lot of people over here. Oh, there’s Josh.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not really, they were more friends with benefits. You know, they had sex but-”
Suzanne cut her off. “I know what friends with benefits means.” All too well. “And Josh is a student? Teacher?”
“He’s a senior, I think. He lives upstairs, in seven-ten.”
After searching Jessica Bell’s room and not finding anything useful except an address book and laptop computer-which Suzanne took and gave Lauren a receipt for-they trudged up the three flights to Josh Haynes’s apartment.
“Friends with benefits,” Panetta grumbled. “I’m not a prude, but to me, sex without love and respect is meaningless.”
Maybe, but not always, thought Suzanne. And sometimes, there was affection and respect without love. And why shouldn’t she have a guy to expend sexual energy with? She answered her own question. Because there was a double standard, even at the age of thirty-three. Guys could sleep around, but girls-not so much.
After reaching the top-floor hallway, Panetta rapped on Josh Haynes’s door. He answered wearing gray sweats and no shirt.
They showed their badges. “We’re here about Jessica Bell,” Panetta said.
“Is something wrong?”
He seemed concerned, but Suzanne had faced some great criminal actors over the years. Maybe in prison they could brush up on their Shakespeare.
“When was the last time you saw or spoke with Jessica?” Panetta asked.
Josh frowned. “Saturday.”
When he didn’t offer any more detail, Suzanne prompted, “Did you have a date?”
“We went to a party on Saturday.”
“Where was the party?”
“Brooklyn. I went with her because she was nervous about riding the subway at night, but we didn’t hang out. She said she had plans.”
“I was under the impression you and Jessie were involved,” Suzanne said.
“We weren’t dating or anything like that.”
“Her roommate said you were sleeping together.”
“Well, yeah, sometimes, but we weren’t exclusive or anything. We just liked hanging together.”
“So you went to this party in Brooklyn. At a vacant warehouse?”
“Is that what this is about? The warehouse? It was just a party.”
“Jessica is dead.” Panetta was blunt.
Josh blanched. “What?”
“Her body was found fifty yards from the main entrance to the warehouse,” Suzanne said.
He shook his head. “But-I-don’t-” He stopped, confused, and stepped back.
Suzanne took that as an invitation to enter, and Josh didn’t stop them.
Panetta’s voice was harsh. “You went to a party with your good friend Jessica, didn’t leave with her, and didn’t bother to check in with her on Sunday? Or Monday morning?”
“We weren’t dating-I don’t understand. She’s not dead.”
“We have a positive ID,” Suzanne said, closing the door behind her.
Josh sat down heavily on the couch. He lived in a large one-room apartment, about five hundred square feet in the corner of the building, with four, tall narrow windows looking out onto the street. The custom woodwork that may have been original to the building had been well maintained by tenants or landlord.
“I’m just-stunned. Jess.”
Panetta said, “We’re not here about the illegal party. We’re here about a murder.”
“She was murdered?” Josh asked, as if that, too, was a revelation.
Suzanne trusted her instincts, and she didn’t see Josh as a killer, though most killers didn’t look the part.
“Mr. Haynes, we’re trying to catch Jessica’s killer. We want to talk to anyone she may have seen at the party. Our investigators tell us that at least five hundred people were at the Sunset Park warehouse. You’re telling us it was Saturday night, correct?”
Josh nodded. “It was more like eight hundred people at the peak,” he added.
“You and Jessica arrived at what time?”
“Just after midnight.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Right after we got there. Jess loved to dance. That’s why she went to the parties, for the great bands. Everyone can just be themselves. I was doing my own thing.”
“Which was?”
He shrugged. “Stuff.”
“How did you find out about the party? Did you get an invitation? Read about it on the Internet? I’m a little rusty in this area.”
Suzanne suppressed a smile. Vic Panetta knew more than most fifty-year-old detectives about how the college set operated.
Josh was reticent, and Panetta gently pushed. “I understand you’re worried because that party was illegal, but I can tell you that unless you killed Jessica Bell, or are covering up for whoever did, I’m not going to arrest you for anything you did at the party. I’m a homicide detective, not a narc. But if you don’t help us, I will send your name to the detective in charge of narcotics and gangs and he’ll make your life hell.”
Josh frowned. “I am kind of involved in organizing some of the parties. But I’m not the only one,” he quickly added.
“I’m aware of that.”
“We have a website. We don’t post the location until two hours before. Only people we know have the password, and they get out the word in their circles, who pass it along. It’s mostly college kids and working types
