—
Now, settled at the table, Tori and Bethany opened their water bottles, drank, kept their heads down.
Milo said, “Again, thanks for coming. First off, I want to reassure you that there’s no serial killer lurking in your neighborhoods. I can’t give you too many details but Marissa’s death was likely an overdose.”
“Of what?” said Tori Burkholder.
“We don’t know yet.”
“That makes no sense, sir. Like I told you, she didn’t use anything.”
Generally Milo’s stingy about giving out details. This time, he said, “Someone may have overdosed her without her knowing.”
“Who?”
“Our most likely suspect is a man named Paul O’Brien.”
No response.
Milo said, “Never heard of him?”
“Never.”
“Never.”
“In any event, he’s been taken care of and is no threat to anyone else. So the name doesn’t ring a bell? Maybe someone Marissa mentioned casually?”
Tori and Bethany looked at each other. Shook their heads.
He showed them the photo of O’Brien and Marissa.
Bethany gaped and stuck out her tongue. “Why would she do that? He looks gross.”
Tori said, “Where was this taken?”
“We’re still trying to figure that out. Any ideas?”
“No, sir.”
Bethany said, “NotMarissa’s type.”
I said, “What type was that?”
“Actually,” said Tori, “Marissa didn’t have a type. She swore off.”
“Swore off guys.”
“Guys, relationships.”
“No boyfriends at all?”
“Not for years.” She studied the photo. “He’s like…hanging over her. Like he thinks he owns her.”
“Maybe he’s the producer,” said Bethany.
“You think? We told her it was probably bogus.”
“You know Marissa. When she gets an idea.”
