Sally studied her hands as she picked at the tablecloth. She didn’t look up while Eric discussed school and had flinched almost imperceptibly when he mentioned not paying for college. A sore point between mother and son? Or between mother and stepfather?

“Do you know why Justin would do this?” Ray asked calmly, finally asking the question that’d been the elephant in the room.

Sally’s chin went up. “We don’t know. We talked and talked about it on the phone, but we keep coming up with no reasons. He’s had some depression issues for the last five years or so, but nothing has ever indicated that he’d do something like this.”

“Does he take medication?” Mason asked. Now we’re getting somewhere.

“Yes. I’ll get it.” Sally left the room. Eric shifted uncomfortably in his chair in the silence.

“How long have the two of you been married?” Ray asked. “Justin is your stepson, right?”

“Nineteen years,” said Eric. “I adopted Justin immediately. His biological father has never been a part of his life.”

“Is he around?”

“He lives in Texas,” answered Eric. His mouth tightened as he answered. “He’s a useless bum.”

“You never had more kids?” asked Ray.

“No.” His mouth went even tighter. “Sally can’t.”

“Any behavioral issues with Justin that you saw leading up to this?” Mason asked. “A kid with poor grades and depression doesn’t indicate that he’ll go shoot up a mall. Something big happen in his life recently?”

Sally reappeared and set an orange pill bottle down next to Mason. He copied the drug name, pharmacy, and prescribing doctor’s name down on his pad. “I was just asking your husband if Justin had anything big happen in his life.”

She sat back down and gripped her husband’s hand. “All he does is sleep and go to work. I’m not aware of anything new . . . good or bad.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No. Not in a year or so.”

Mason looked at the doctor’s name on his notepad. “Is this a general doctor or a specialist? Was there other treatment for his depression?”

“Dr. Beck is a psychiatrist. He’s been treating Justin for about a year.”

“Treating? How often does he see him?

“Justin goes in for counseling every two weeks.”

“And that’s been going on for a year?”

Sally pressed her lips together. “It started off every week. That lasted for about three months. Recently they were talking about going to a longer interval between sessions.”

Mason didn’t know if a year was a long treatment time or normal. From his understanding the disease was unpredictable and difficult to treat at times. Things constantly changed. And life events or chemical production in the body could worsen or improve the patient’s outlook on life. He imagined it was a lot like trying to shoot a moving target in the dark with occasional flashes of sunlight.

“When was his last appointment?”

“Last week. Wednesday.”

“How was his relationship with the two of you?” Ray asked. “What was your latest argument about?”

Sally wiped at her eyes. “I got on him for leaving an open box of cereal in his bedroom a few days ago. The damn thing was attracting ants. I’ve told him a million times that he can’t do that, but he never remembers. Seems so stupid now.”

“Garbage cans,” answered Eric. “He’s to put the bins back in the garage before I get home on garbage day. I pulled in that evening and they were still at the curb.”

The same kind of arguments Mason had had dozens of times with his teenage son.

“Kids are the same everywhere,” said Ray. “I’m not sure at what age they figure that stuff out. I suspect it doesn’t happen until they have their own home and ant problem.”

Sally nodded through fresh tears. “He wanted to move out. He wanted to be on his own and we wanted that for him, but he doesn’t make enough. He and three friends were discussing moving in together. They thought that between the four of them, they could afford a good-sized house. But I didn’t like the idea. I asked him what would happen when one of them lost his job and couldn’t pay the rent anymore. Then the other three were on the hook to make it up. How long would they carry a friend?” She rambled rapidly, her words spilling over one another. “One roommate, I told him. One responsible roommate is all he should try to handle. He may have been a little upset with me that I didn’t think it was a good idea.” Her voice cracked.

Eric slid an arm around her shoulders. “That wouldn’t drive him to do what he did.” He looked at the investigators. “I assume you want to search his room? You’ve been very polite sitting here and talking with us, but I imagine you’re itching to look around,” he said bitterly.

“We do have a warrant,” Mason said. “But we appreciate you letting us look. The two of us will take a quick look, but there will be an evidence team arriving soon.” He paused. “The warrant covers the entire house and your vehicles. Electronics, too.”

Sally and Eric stared at him.

“I have work stuff on my desktop.” Eric started to stand. “I need to back it up.”

Mason stood, holding out a hand to slow him down. “It’d be best if you didn’t get on your computer right now.”