For the first time, emotion overtook her. Naomi shut down and her throat quivered as she fought to regain her composure. Mrs. Somers placed her free hand over both their hands and squeezed.
Josie said, “I believe you.”
Naomi nodded. Josie and Gretchen waited for her to get her emotions under control.
“You’ll find the person she was with? The person who made that awful sticker and gave her the brownies?”
“We’ll do everything we possibly can to find that person,” Gretchen assured her.
Naomi said, “There’s a law in Pennsylvania now. The death by distribution law. If a person gives another person drugs, and the person taking them dies, the person who provided them can face murder charges.”
Josie was aware of the law. It was primarily targeted at drug dealers, and she wasn’t sure that Nysa’s case would fall under it, but she wasn’t about to argue the point with a grieving family. Besides, that was the district attorney’s purview, not Josie’s. Her job was to do whatever she could to figure out exactly what happened to Nysa.
Gretchen said, “You’re right, Naomi. All the more reason to find the person who gave Nysa the brownies.”
“If you don’t mind,” Josie said. “We just have a few questions. We know this is the worst possible time to be asking them, but it will really help our investigation.”
Mr. Somers let out a shuddering breath and put his large hands on the table. “Fine,” he said.
“Any time you want to stop, you say so,” Josie added.
Mrs. Somers nodded.
They went through the series of questions they’d posed to everyone who’d known Nysa. Had she been depressed or anxious? Stressed? No. Did she have a history of anxiety, depression, or suicidal ideations? No. Had she been dating anyone or seeing anyone casually that they knew of? No.
“One last thing,” Josie asked. “Did Nysa ever refer to herself as a mermaid? Or did any of you ever call her that?”
Mr. and Mrs. Somers shook their heads. Naomi said, “No. We called her our superstar.”
Mr. Somers’ shoulders began to quake. Abruptly, he pushed his chair back from the table and stood. Wordlessly, he headed for the elevators. “I’m sorry,” his wife whispered. “He’s just…”
Josie said, “You never have to apologize for your grief, Mrs. Somers, or your husband’s. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” she answered. Relinquishing Naomi’s hand, she heaved herself to her feet and went after her husband.
Naomi, Josie, and Gretchen watched her go. This was the worst part of the job, Josie thought.
“There is something you need to know that I didn’t want to say in front of them,” Naomi said.
Josie and Gretchen looked at her.
Naomi folded her hands on the table and shifted her weight in her chair. “Nysa was seeing someone. It started right at the beginning of the semester. It wasn’t serious. In fact, she instantly regretted it. That’s how I know about it. She called me crying the morning after the first time it… happened.”
“Happened?” Gretchen said. “Naomi, was your sister raped?”
Naomi’s fingers dug into the flesh of the backs of her hands. “No. She made that very clear to me. That was my first question as well.”
“Why was she so upset?” Josie asked.
“You have to understand, Detectives, my sister was the ultimate rule-follower. Dedicated, disciplined, ambitious. The first time she ever had a sip of beer, she thought the entire world was going to end. She was upset because the fling she was having—or whatever you want to call it—was with someone much older than her. I am pretty sure it was a professor.”
Which would explain Christine Trostle’s characterization of Nysa’s secretive and unusual behavior, Josie thought.
“So it wasn’t Hudson Tinning,” Josie said.
Naomi rolled her eyes. “Mommy’s boy, Hudson? No. She liked him, a lot, actually, but it definitely wasn’t him. Like I said, the person she was seeing was older than her.”
“She didn’t tell you who it was?” Gretchen asked.
“She said she didn’t want anyone to know. She was going to end it and that would be that, and he would never get in trouble for it and neither would she.”
“But she didn’t end it,” Josie said.
“No, she did,” Naomi said. “I talked to her on Friday afternoon. She said she’d broken things off. She felt better, was even going to party over the weekend. Well, party as much as Nysa could party, so that probably meant going to a party and having a half a cup of beer.”
Gretchen said, “Did she ever confirm that it was a professor?”
“She never said that outright,” said Naomi. “I just assumed it was because she was so freaked out.”
“What did she actually say?” Josie asked.
Naomi unlaced her fingers and rubbed her palms together. “She said he was a lot older than her and that it was inappropriate.”
Josie’s cell phone rang. A glance at the screen showed the face and phone number of Mrs. Quinn, her late husband’s mother and Harris’s grandmother. “I have to take this,” she said. Gretchen gave her a nod, indicating that she’d finish the interview with Naomi while Josie stepped away from the table.
Josie walked out into the lobby and swiped answer. “Cindy, is everything okay?”
“I’m at Tiny Tykes,” Cindy Quinn answered. “I had to pick up Harris because Misty picked up another shift. Pre-K is expensive, you know.”
In fact, Josie did know. She’d helped Misty pay for it. “Is Harris okay?”
“Oh yeah, he’s fine, but they won’t let me take him. Something about an approved list. I’m not on it. I know Misty put me on it, but this woman swears up and down that she didn’t.”
“Misty must have forgotten,” Josie said. “Have they tried calling her?”
Annoyance edged Cindy’s words. “They can’t do that, apparently. I have no idea why but they’re refusing. They’ll only release him to Misty or to you. Misty’s working in the call center, and I can’t get through to her, although even if I could, she’d tell them the same damn thing I’ve been telling them, which is that she put me on the list when she enrolled Harris. I’ve been arguing with this woman here for fifteen minutes. Josie, she’s like a power-drunk tyrant. She won’t let me take my own grandson!”
Josie sighed. “Unfortunately, Cindy, that’s a standard policy at these kinds of facilities. It’s meant to protect children.”
“From what? Their own damn families? Josie, I’ve just about had it with this lady here. I’m telling you this is a clerical error on their part.”
“I’m sure it is,” Josie said quickly. “But regardless, we have to address it. We just have to get you back on the list, is all. I can help.” The last thing Misty needed was for Cindy to cause a scene at Tiny Tykes. “I can be there in ten minutes. I’ll ask if they’ll let me put you on the list for future pickups.”
“Well, hurry,” Cindy said. “I can’t be held responsible for what I say to this awful woman in the meantime.”