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usually go together, but this time . . . We should have insisted she stay with the Jenningses. But, she’s almost seventeen, and so responsible. She’ll be going to college next year, so we thought, we just thought—”
    “Are the Jenningses family friends?”
    “Yes. Arthur and Melissa. Their daughter, Jo, is Deena’s best friend.” As she answered, Carol’s lips trembled. “Deena wanted to stay on her own, and we thought, we both thought we should respect that, trust her, allow her that independence. If—”
    “Can you tell me the names of her other friends?”
    Carol drew in a shuddering breath. “Jo, and Hilly Rowe, Libby Grogh from school. They’re the closest. And Jamie, Jamie Lingstrom.”
    Eve went on alert. “The late DS Frank Wojinksi’s grandson?”
    “Yes.” MacMasters nodded. “I was friendly with Frank, and Jamie and Deena have been friends for years.”
    “Boyfriends?”
    “Deena wasn’t interested in boys, not in that way, as yet.”
    As MacMasters spoke, Eve caught the look in his wife’s eye. “Ma’am?”
    “She was shy around boys, but interested. I think there was one in particular she liked.”
    “Who?”
    “She never said, not directly. But in the last couple of months she took more interest in how she looked, and . . . I’m not sure I can explain it, but I knew there was a boy who’d caught her eye and interest. Enough so that I had another talk with her about sex.”
    MacMasters frowned at his wife, a look of bafflement more than annoyance. “You never said.”
    She glanced at her husband, and her trembling lips tried to curve. “Some things are private, Jonah, and just between girls. She hadn’t been with a boy yet. I’d have known. And she’d have told me. We discussed birth control and safety. She knew I was ready to take her to the clinic should she want to choose a birth control method.”
    “Do you know if she kept a diary?”
    “More a journal or a notebook. She’d record thoughts, or observations, complaints, I imagine, sometimes bits of poetry or song lyrics.” As her eyes continued to stream, Carol dug for another tissue. “She loves music. She keeps it in her purse, always.”
    “And she has a PPC, a ’link?”
    “Yes. They’d be in her purse, too.”
    “She has a white straw bag, with silver buckles.”
    “Her new summer bag. We bought it last month. It’s her new fa vorite.”
    “Where does she keep it when she’s not using it?”
    “In her room, on the hook on the inside of the closet door.”
    The empty hook, Eve thought. Her killer had taken it, and everything in it.
    “I have to ask. Did Deena use illegals?”
    “She did not. I don’t say that with absolute certainty simply because she was my daughter and due to my position.” MacMasters kept his gaze steady on Eve’s. “I know all the signs, Lieutenant. And I’m well aware of how susceptible a girl of Deena’s age can be to peer pressure or the urge to experiment. She was strongly opposed to illegals, not just because they’re against the law but because she had a deep respect for her body, her health.”
    “She’s very aware of nutrition,” Carol added. “In fact, I often felt guilty for drinking coffee or indulging in junk food. She works out six days a week—yoga, jogging, resistance training.”
    “What gym did she use?”
    “She doesn’t like gyms. We have a little area on the lower level. And if she wants to jog outside, she uses the park. The secured trails. She carries a panic button, and knows self-defense. Jonah saw to that. She’s been using the park more recently, with the good weather. Illegals would never be a choice for her. She respects herself and her father too much.”
    Present tense, Eve thought, all present tense. Deena was still alive for her. Would it be another nightmare when reality fully set it?
    She hesitated, trying to find the right tone to direct toward the father without hastening the nightmare for the mother. That flicker translated