As the Wicked Watch(44)

I got their attention as I approached. “Hi, guys! How are you? You go to Carol Crest High School?”

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“Carol Crest Academy,” the girl emphasized with pride.

“Did you know Masey James?” I asked.

“I didn’t know her that well,” the boy said. “She was in my geometry class. She was really nice, though.”

“I knew her!” the girl chimed in. “Oh my God, she was soooo pretty! This is so sad. I cried so hard when I found out it was her.”

So did I.

“Can I get a quick interview? What’s your name?” I asked her.

“Shawn Jeffries,” she said.

“Spell that for me, please,” I said, and she obliged.

“And you, young man, what’s your name?”

“Maleek Tate. M-A-L-E-E-K T-A-T-E.”

“Okay, Shawn, I’m going to ask you if you knew Masey for the camera this time.”

She nodded.

“Go ahead,” George said. “I’m ready.”

RECORDING: “I’m here with Shawn Jeffries, a student at Carol Crest Academy on the Near West Side. She says in the short time she got to know Masey, they became friends. Shawn, what was she like?”

Before she could answer, her face crumpled into tears that streamed down her face. It was unnerving. I swallowed my breath and straightened my back to keep my composure.

“I’m sorry. This is just so sad. We were becoming really good friends,” she said, wiping her face. “She was super nice. I just admired her, you know? She was so pretty and so down-to-earth. Just a real cool person. We ate lunch together, and after school, I walked her to the bus stop on my way home on the days she didn’t get a ride.”

A ride? A ride from whom?

Pamela never mentioned Masey getting a ride from school. She told me she took the bus back and forth every day. No, wait, or did she? I remembered she described Masey’s journey to school, but she didn’t mention how she got home. Nonetheless, I followed my gut and I turned around to face George. “Hey, can you turn the camera off for a minute?” I asked and turned back around to face Shawn.

“Did I say something wrong?” Shawn asked.

“Oh no, sweetheart. Absolutely not. I want to ask you something, but not on-camera. Okay?”

“Okay?” she said. “What is it?”

If the person giving Masey a ride factored into her murder somehow, I didn’t want to put Shawn, a potential witness, at risk by interviewing her on the air.

“Do you know who gave her a ride?” I asked.

“No, she never mentioned it. I mean, I assumed it was a family member. She usually didn’t know if she had a ride or not till the end of the day. But she’d still meet me outside the gym after school and let me know one way or the other,” Shawn said.

“Did you ever see what kind of car she got into?” I asked.

“Um, I think I might have once. I really didn’t pay that much attention to it, though,” she said.

“Did this happen often?” I asked.

“Uhhhh.” Shawn thought about this. “No, not that often. Really just here lately.”

“Here lately,” I repeated. “Like a week or two before she went missing?”

Shawn searched her memory. “Yeah, like, a couple weeks. But not every day. Just every now and then,” she said.

My instincts were right to ask George to stop filming. This little girl just might have shared a critical detail that even the police weren’t aware of.

“Have you spoken to the police?” I asked her.

“No!” she said, recoiling. “Oh, but wait, I do remember her saying one time her cousin was picking her up.”

“That’s all she said? Her cousin? She didn’t mention a name?” I asked.

“Naw, she just said my cousin.”

It was possible these rides were indeed innocent and provided by a family member. The next time I speak to Pam, I’m definitely bringing it up.

“Are you both sophomores?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yes,” the two responded in unison again.

“Okay, thank you, Maleek and Shawn. I appreciate your time.”

“Are we going to be on the news?” he asked.

“You might,” I said. “These interviews get edited. But make sure you watch just in case.”

I pulled out a business card and handed it to Shawn. “And, hey, Shawn, if you can remember anything about the car or the person giving Masey a ride, would you please call me?”

“Sure,” she said.

Something told me not to leave without getting her contact information.

“You know, is it okay if I get your email address or cell phone number?” I asked.

The teenager beamed at the idea. “Yeah! That’s cool!”

I handed Shawn my cell phone. “Here ya go. Just go in and create a contact.”

I’m always amazed at how fast kids can type on a cell phone keypad with their thumbs.

“Done,” she said.

Before my feet could move, I felt compelled to ask Shawn for another favor. “Hey, one more thing, Shawn. Promise me that you won’t say what you just told me about Masey getting rides from school to another reporter on the air. Can you promise me that?”