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video star. Skinny pants. Skinny tie. Really stupid.”
    “What about the basics? Height, weight, age?”
    “Also kind of tall. Not as tall as the first guy. Probably right around six feet. A little older than us, maybe mid-twenties? Dark brown hair. Kind of thin, I guess. I really didn’t pay any attention, but I might recognize him if I saw him again.”
    “Well, I can understand how the outfit might have distracted you.” Ellie was hoping a little humor might deter Stefanie from another guilt-induced digression.
    “Oh, and Chelsea was calling him Jake.”
    “His name was Jake?” Ellie clarified.
    “No, like for Jake Gyllenhaal. It’s this thing Chelsea does. If someone looks like a celebrity, she’ll just call them that. So, I didn’t get a great look at the guy, but according to Chelsea, he looked like Jake Gyllenhaal.”
    Ellie could certainly see how a guy who looked like that—regardless of the outfit—might get the attention of a nineteen-year-old girl from Indiana.
    “Okay, so we’ve got the shaggy-haired guy who brought you into the VIP room and Jake the bad dresser,” she said. “Anyone else from last night you can remember?”
    No.
    “What about back home? Does Chelsea have a boyfriend?”
    “Her boyfriend’s not here,” Stefanie said.
    “Where is he?” Ellie asked.
    “Indiana. He went to Cancún for break, but he came back yesterday so he wouldn’t miss any classes. Oh, my God. He’s totally going to flip out when we’re not on the plane.”
    “Worry about that later. What’s his name?”
    “Mark. Mark Linton.”
    Two more words for the notebook. She didn’t care whether the boyfriend was supposedly hiking in the Amazon rain forest. Until she verified his whereabouts, the boyfriend was always a suspect.
    “Who else?” Ellie asked.
    Stefanie cocked her head, clearly put off by the question. Jordan gave her an annoyed look.
    “Who else other than Mark Linton?” Ellie asked again. “I mean, it’s not like they’re married, right?”
    “Not married,” Stefanie said defensively, “but dating. And for like nine months. He’s her boyfriend, okay? She was dancing with some guys last night, but so were the rest of us.”
    “No problem. Sorry if I offended you. I figured in college most people would still be dating around. You girls all right? Need to take a bathroom break or anything?”
    Jordan raised her hand chin-high.
    “Detective Rogan will show you the way.”
    Jordan scooted past her friend and followed Rogan out, while Ellie continued to walk Stefanie through the basics. Chelsea had no enemies. No one was watching them. No one was following them. No tawdry affairs or illicit drug deals over spring break. The guys at Pulse seemed harmless enough, and Chelsea wouldn’t have left with any of them anyway.
    It was just a fun night in the city. In fact, Chelsea had told Stefanie, just before they left her alone at the club, that it was the best night ever.
    When Rogan returned to the room with Jordan, he gave Ellie the look she was expecting.
    “This has been good, you guys. Very helpful. We’re going to make a few calls, and we’ll be right back.” Ellie waited for the door to close behind them to talk to her partner in the hallway. “So?”
    “Miss All-American Innocent, my black ass.”
    Ellie feigned a judgmental tsk . “My goodness, Jeffrey James. You are so cynical.”
     
    FACTS. REALITY. THE TRUTH. A TIMELINE. It all sounds objective. Absolute. Black and white.
    It never was. Sometimes a story changed because a witness lied. But more often, it was simply because there was another side to the story.
    According to Rogan, it hadn’t taken much to get Jordan to come clean.
    “I caught her on the way out of the ladies’ room,” Rogan said. “I told her I noticed her expression when Stefanie insisted Chelsea had only the one boyfriend. She gave me the usual ‘I don’t want to say anything about my friend.’”
    “And then you said we need the truth if