On Her Father's Grave (Rogue River #1)(7)

She made another note. “Anything being passed around at school? Party drugs? Painkillers from someone’s parents’ medicine cabinet?” She smiled at Peter. “We know it happens.”

Peter looked down at the table, his shoulders drooping. “Not that I heard about. Not last night.”

“You cut out of the loop, Peter? Your so-called buddies don’t like to share with you? What’d you do to them?”

Zane winced. One point for the female who knows how to poke at a teenage male’s pride.

“Nothin’.” Peter shot a sideways glace at his father. “They know I’d get my ass kicked if I got caught with anything.”

“Damn right,” said Alex. He looked at Zane and Stevie. “I pay attention. He gets grilled every time he comes home from a late evening. If I smell pot or beer, he’s a dead man. And sometimes I pop in where he says he’s gonna be. Doesn’t matter if it’s a friend’s house or the pizza place.”

Peter’s shoulders drooped further.

“What’s popular to use these days, Peter?” Stevie asked. “Bring me up to date. I haven’t been in high school in thirteen years. Educate me.”

The boy shrugged again. “Pot. Beer. Whatever booze someone can get. Vodka or tequila, I guess.”

“What about pills? Stronger stuff?” Zane added.

“I don’t know.”

The adults looked at each other and then at the teen. And waited.

“I don’t know!” Peter looked up, making eye contact with Stevie and then Zane. His words emphasized by the widest gaze he could manage. Zane didn’t believe him.

“What do you hear from kids in other schools? What’s being passed around in their schools?” Stevie asked, her question telling Zane she didn’t believe Peter either. He admired the way she asked the same question but moved the location. Peter might feel safer talking about drug use outside his home territory.

Peter slouched back in his chair, his demeanor calmer. “There were some guys from the coast bragging about something new they had. They were at the lake a few weeks back. They were a bunch of jerks and were probably making it up.”

Stevie smiled and made a quick notation. “We always hated the kids from the coast high schools too. They didn’t seem to realize that living on the Oregon Coast wasn’t as prestigious as living in Malibu.”

Peter looked at her with sudden interest. “You lived in LA, right? Was it totally great?”

Even when you’ve been gone as long as I have, everyone still knows your business.

Zane saw Stevie bite her lip, fighting back a grin. “It’s not as great as it seems on TV. Lots of traffic and it’s expensive.”

Peter sighed. “I wouldn’t mind. I want to make movies.”

Stevie changed the subject. “How good of friends were you with Hunter? You know of anything going on with him? How were his grades? He get along with his parents?”

Another shrug. “I know him as well as anyone. His grades are decent. He was upset no one offered him a football scholarship. And his grades weren’t good enough to get him any scholarship money either. He was going to try to walk on at Oregon State next fall. I don’t know of any problems with his parents.”

“Girlfriend?” Zane asked.

“He and Grace Ellis have been a couple since March or so. I think he was going to break up with her before he left for college. He said he wanted to keep her handy until . . .” The boy’s face reddened. “I mean . . . you know . . . since it’s nearly summer.”

Zane shifted in his chair, watching for Stevie’s reaction. Pretty typical teenage male mentality. Hang on to the girl as long as he was getting what he needed physically.

Stevie’s face showed no reaction. “I see what you’re saying.”

The door to the lunchroom/interview room opened. Solitude’s mayor, who happened to be Stevie’s oldest brother, stuck his head in. James Taylor bore no resemblance to his gangly musical namesake. Instead he was a rugged carbon copy of Bill Taylor from thirty years before.

“Whoops. Sorry, guys.” James nodded at the group. “Hey Alex, Peter. How’s it going? Zane, can I talk with you a minute?” James looked at his sister. “Doing okay, Stevie? I’ll see you tonight, right?”

That was part of the reason James Taylor was the mayor of Solitude. He knew everyone by name. Even the kids. And he could talk and relate to each one of them. He wasn’t a bullshitter. He actually listened and cared about what people had to say. This morning he looked red-eyed and stressed. No doubt everyone did after last night’s tragedy.

“Tonight?” Stevie asked.

“Dinner. Mom’s,” James replied. “Miss it and you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“That’s right. I’ll be there.”

Zane lifted a brow at her as he started to get out of his chair. Stevie nodded. She was fine without him for a while. Zane stepped out of the room and closed the door.

“What’s up, James?” He folded his arms across his chest, wondering what had brought James into the station. His mayoral office was one of a few in a small building attached to the side of the police station. Basically it was a closet with a desk, a landline, and an ancient computer. Not a lot different from the rest of the station.