"Stop!"
Karsten's hand shot up to block the torrent pouring from Hi's mouth. Carl had long since given up taking notes.
"How long were you at this dog festival? And before you answer, know that I will double-check everything."
"No problem." Hi leaned back, fingers laced behind his head. "I think we left around noon, when the last of the greyhounds was adopted. This huge woman from North Carolina--"
"I don't care about that!" Karsten's nostrils flared. He paused, as though debating something internally. "Out of curiosity, how have you been feeling lately?"
Hi's face registered surprise. "What? Fine. Why?"
"No reason." Karsten's eyes returned to his clipboard. "When did you return home?"
Hi shook his head, resumed his excruciatingly detailed account.
"Maybe twelve thirty. Just after the large lady left with her pooch. We went to the dog show. A toy poodle won best in breed." He smiled. "You have to hear about this dog!"
"So you left the dog festival at eleven?" Karsten asked. Coy.
"No, sir."
Shelton tugged his earlobe, eyes on the tabletop. "It was at least noon. Like, twelve thirty. I remember because it was after the fat chick in the Tar Heel shirt took the greyhound, but before the dog competition."
Carl yawned, snapped his mouth shut at Karsten's disapproving glance.
"Who won?" Karsten feigned only minimal interest.
"Poodle," Shelton said. "Best in breed."
Karsten changed topics. "You saw three men in the woods on Sunday night, yes?"
"Honestly, I was so scared I'm not sure what I saw." Still Shelton did not look up. "I remember some monkeys running around."
"But you reported being chased by armed men." Karsten was clearly annoyed. "You claimed they shot at you."
"I heard two loud sounds, crack crack, like a whip." Shelton shrugged. "I don't know what made the noise. I just started running."
"What nonsense is this?" Karsten snapped. "You saw no one that night?"
"I'm sorry sir." Shelton did meek exceptionally well. "I'm afraid of the dark. Ask my mom. I'm always jumping at shadows."
"Why would you run if no one chased you?" Karsten pressed.
"We found the bones at sunset. Tory said they were human, how scary is that? Then we heard noises coming from across the clearing." For the first time, Shelton made eye contact. "What can I say? I got spooked. I'm a wuss. I took off."
"No armed men? No gunshots?" Karsten raised frustrated palms. "You're now saying that no one chased you? It didn't happen?"
"Sorry," Shelton muttered. "I guess my mind was playing tricks. After all, no one found any bullets, right?"
"Where did you dock your boat?" Karsten asked.
"Charleston City Marina," Ben said. "Slip 134."
"Do you have a receipt?"
"No. It's prepaid for the shuttle."
"The institute pays for that slip?"
Ben shrugged.
Karsten was silent for a long moment. Ben waited. Bored, Carl fidgeted with his badge.
"Have you been ill?" Karsten asked.
"No." Surprised.
"Nothing at all?"
"No." Now Ben sounded suspicious.
Karsten changed course. "You claimed you saw a human skull."
Ben said nothing.
Karsten slapped the table. "Well?"
"Was that a question?"
"Don't get cute, Mr. Blue. Did you find a skull or not?"
"It was dark."
Karsten glared. "Was there a bullet hole in the skull, as you said before?"
"I never said that. Tory did."
"Was there a bullet hole or not?"
"It was dark."
Karsten drew two long breaths through his nose. One nostril whistled.
Ben waited.
Carl asked his first question of the day. "When you arrived at the dog festival, what's the first thing that happened?"
Karsten looked annoyed, but listened.
Ben paused, eyes narrow.
"Well?" Carl demanded.
"A dog tripped me. I took a header and ruined my shirt. I had to buy a dorky new one from a vendor."
"What was on the shirt?"
Ben hesitated.
Karsten leaned forward, eager for a misstep.
Ben smiled.
"Some dog."
"That will be all," Karsten hissed.
"Tory Brennan."
Karsten had saved me for last. To mess with my head, I was sure. Make me nervous. Advantage Karsten. But I was determined to hide it.
"Nice to see you. Sit down."
I parked on the hot seat. I felt prepared. We'd practiced like mad.
Do your worst, jerk.
"Before we begin, let me be clear." Karsten removed his glasses and wiped them on his tie. "I know your friends are lying."
Gulp.
The long knives were out. This wasn't just "information gathering." This was an interrogation, pure and simple.
"Their stories were . . ." Karsten chose his word carefully. "Perfect. Airtight." He replaced his spectacles. "Rehearsed."
"I don't understand." Innocent as Bo Peep. "We enjoyed the rescue festival, if that's what you mean."
Karsten stared lasers through his now smeared lenses.
"Carl, leave the room."
The command caught Carl by surprise. "My supervisor said I'm supposed to observe."
"Now!" Karsten pointed at the door. "Or you'll be mucking out monkey cages the rest of your career!"