“I feel like we would get further if we weren’t in uniform,” Quince said as they walked toward the dorms.
“You want to go undercover just to interview a few college students?”
“Yeah. You know. Put them at ease.” He waved to a kid on a bike who was using the empty campus to his advantage. The kid eyed him suspiciously.
“See?” he said, the kid clearly proving his point. “We need to get to know them. Become a part of their pack. First, we share a couple of beers, then we ask about Whitney.”
“That would imply they had something to hide.”
“Don’t we all?”
She couldn’t argue that. “And Whitney’s roommate is a freshman, just like her. I don’t see how encouraging underaged drinking would benefit our cause.”
“Clearly you don’t understand college culture.”
“Oh, I understand it just fine. And I understand where the line is when interviewing potential witnesses. We may as well offer them some pot.”
They found the dorm and headed to the second floor.
Quince shook his head. “That would never work. Your inexperience would blow our cover. Have you even ever rolled a joint?”
“I rolled my ankle joint once.”
“Can I help you?” A young woman in a robe and carrying a bathroom caddy stepped out of the very room they were headed for, apparently headed for the showers.
“Hey, we’re looking for the RA?”
“My name is Heather. I’m the temporary RA.”
“Just the girl we’re looking for,” Quincy said, not sounding creepy at all.
The girl took a wary step back and closed the top of her robe self-consciously.
“Sorry,” Sun said, “he was raised in a barn. I’m Sheriff Vicram and this is Chief Deputy Cooper. We’re from Del Sol County and wanted to ask you a couple of questions about your roommate.”
She blinked, completely thrown. “Whitney? Did something happen?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Have you spoken to her since she left?”
“Yeah.” She lifted a shoulder, unconcerned. “I mean, she texted me a couple of times. Which is weird, but okay.”
“Why is that weird?” Quince asked.
“Well, I mean, we were roommates but it’s not like we were besties. She had her crowd and I had mine.”
“Were?”
“Yeah. Next year we’ll get new roommates. That’s just kind of how it works. Don’t get me wrong. I like Whitney a lot, but we didn’t keep tabs on each other. And we certainly didn’t hang.”
“Gotcha,” Sun said, taking out her notepad, just in case. “Do you know who she did hang with?”
She pressed her lips together in thought. “Not really. I might recognize a couple of her friends if you showed me a picture, but Whitney was super popular. I’m more of a band geek.”
“Ah. So her texting you was odd.”
“Very.”
“Did Whitney dye her hair before she left after finals?” Quince asked.
“Whitney? No way.” She shook her head, her dark curls bouncing around her head. “She loved her blond hair.”
“Even if she really liked purple? Would she have dyed it maybe just for summer break?”
“She definitely loved purple, but … I just don’t know. Anything is possible, I guess. She was under a lot of stress with her anthropology final and she ended up acing it. So, maybe?”
“What about her underwear?” Quincy asked as he jotted down some notes. “Do you know what color underwear she was wearing when she left?”
Sun was going to kill him. Especially when Heather closed her robe again and eyed him with a mixture of horror and revulsion.
Quincy finally noticed. He lowered the notepad. “Sorry. This isn’t as creepy as it sounds. It’s for an ongoing investigation.”
“Oh. Well, like I said, we weren’t that close and we damned sure weren’t sharing-underwear close.”
Sun stepped in. “Heather, this is really important. This is still all very up in the air, but Whitney could be in trouble.”
“Oh.” She dropped her hands. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know these are odd questions, but do you know if Whitney had any bright pink underwear?”
“Yeah, but so does every other girl in this dorm.”
She had a point.
“She left a few things, though, if you want to take a look. She knew I’d be here for a few more weeks so, there ya go. Leave your crap with the lesser being.”
“Not that you’re bitter,” Sun said, grinning warmly at her.
She ducked to hide a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Whitney’s really nice to me. I shouldn’t be so harsh.” She opened the door to let them in. “Her stuff is in that wardrobe.”
They walked over to a freestanding wardrobe and opened it only to be met with a purple laundry basket stacked high with odds and ends on top of a few articles of clothing.
Sun knelt to go through it. She hit gold immediately. A brush Whitney must’ve left behind.
“Is this Whitney’s?” she asked, double checking.
“Yeah. Weird that she’d forget it.”
Quince brought out an evidence bag and Sun dropped it in. “Do you know who she was going to see in Del Sol?” Maybe going to see her cousin was simply a cover story for Whitney and she was actually meeting someone. Like a new boyfriend similar to the missing woman from Farmington.
“Yeah, her cousin. I met her once.” She snorted as she scrolled through her phone. “So not impressed.”
As Sun rummaged through the clothes, hoping to find the matching underwear to their Jane Doe’s bra, she touched something cold. She wrapped her fingers around it and pulled out a necklace with the name Whitney written in cursive. It was the same necklace Whitney wore in almost every pic they saw of her.
She held it up to Heather. “Did Whitney leave this in the basket?”
“Oh, no, I found that on the floor. I was surprised. Whitney never went anywhere without that necklace.”
“So, you put it in this basket?”
“Y-yeah.” She looked between the two of them. “Is that okay?”
“It’s fine.”
Quincy took out an evidence bag as she held it up. She dropped it in, then bent for a better look at the carpet. “Was there anything else out of place?”
She looked around as though double checking. “Not really. I had to vacuum her side of the room, but that’s about it.”
Sun sat back on her heels. “Did you actually see her leave the building, Heather?”
Heather sank onto her bed. “No. She was gone when I got back. Do you think…? Did something happen here?”
“I rather doubt it,” Sun assured her. “Before I ask for a forensics team, are there security cameras in the dorm?”
“On every floor,” she said. “But I don’t know where the control room is.”
“I’ll find it. I just want to make sure Whitney walked out of this dorm on her own.”
After taking one last look around the room, they left Heather to find the security office. Two hours later, with the help of campus police, they found the footage of Whitney leaving her dorm room. They tracked her carrying two boxes and a stuffed zebra until she got to her car and left the parking garage.