Cold Fear by Toni Anderson Page B

about sex, after trying not to think about it ever since Isadora Campbell had turned back to look at him and blushed so prettily when he’d caught her.
    The good news was she didn’t want to be interested in him any more than he wanted to be interested in her. Or maybe that was the bad news, considering they both seemed to be losing the fight against basic physical attraction.
    Thankfully he was an expert at ignoring not only his own wants and needs, but also the wants and needs of others.
    He nodded to the murder board he’d borrowed from the police department and set against the dining room wall. On it he’d put pictures of Helena, Jesse, the dunes, Helena’s father, the shovel, and the bracelet, which represented all sorts of complications he didn’t want to write down but had to. “What did you learn from the other teens at the party?”
    Randall coughed up a noodle. “Let’s just say I don’t remember things being that…advanced…when I was in high school. Or maybe I was a lot more innocent than I realized.”
    “Drugs?” asked Frazer.
    “Drugs, sex, and rock ’n roll. A couple of the kids admitted there were uppers flying around the party, but nothing ‘major’.” He placed air quotes around the word and went back to inhaling his food. He chewed for another moment. “The alcohol was flowing and the Cirencester kid is going to be lucky not to get strung up if his parents lose their liquor license over this.” He pointed chopsticks at Frazer. “What really blew me away—pun intended—is a game they played where the guys all threw their cell phones into a bowl and whoever got picked out won a blowjob from one of the girls.”
    “Happy New Year,” Frazer said wryly. “Who won?”
    “Damien Ridgeway.”
    He winced. “Was Kit the one delivering the prize?”
    Randall gave a shrug. “Apparently. They disappeared together.”
    “To the pool?”
    Randall nodded.
    Frazer had told Kit he wouldn’t tell her sister her secrets, but that didn’t mean others would keep quiet. It wasn’t his problem, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for Isadora, and pissed that her sister was running wild. A lot of people might blame the guardian, but if he could take control of his life at fifteen, there was no excuse at seventeen.
    Not his business. “What was the general feeling toward Helena?”
    “Nice kid—maybe a little too nice. Not into drugs or screwing around. Top student, hard worker. A dancer. Overprotective parents, especially the father.”
    Frazer thought of her narrow feet and long toes. It seemed to fit that she’d been a dancer.
    The “overprotective parents” raised red flags, but parents were suspects in every murder investigation. “I’ll need to interview the family tomorrow. Chief Tyson told me both parents had to be sedated, and he had a female officer staying with them in the house tonight. She’s a family friend.” Which was useful as long as her loyalty lay with discovering the truth. “What about Jesse? What was the general feeling about him?”
    “Didn’t find anyone with a bad thing to say about the young man. Ace student, captain of the football team, but not an asshole. Girls wanted to date him. Guys wanted to hang out with him.” Randall shrugged. “What’s the next move? My boss wants a report. I can’t stall her forever.”
    Frazer pinched the bridge of his nose. Petra Danbridge was competitive and she was pissed with the BAU for hiring Rooney instead of her. Thankfully she didn’t know the reasons behind the choice, although in retrospect he’d much rather deal with Rooney on a daily basis than the SSA from Charlotte. Hanrahan had made a damn good choice for all the wrong reasons. Frazer wasn’t a case agent but he did outrank her, and he knew all the right people. He didn’t want to pull too many strings and draw attention to what was going on down here until he had to.
    “I need another twenty-four hours if I can get it.” Even that wouldn’t be enough.