It smelled like stale beer.

He pointed to one of the couches. “I’ll be right back.” Cole vanished down a hallway.

Ava carefully sat and after a moment Zander sat next to her. “I remember this,” he said with a big grin. “I loved living with roommates in college. We didn’t care how we lived; the best part was the independence. The worst part was dealing with lazy roommates. No one wanted to scrub the toilet or clean up after themselves in the kitchen. I remember some really nasty toilets.”

Ava’s bladder reminded her of the coffee she’d just drunk. Hell no.

Cole reappeared, his hair damp and flattened. He’d changed his T-shirt to a slightly less wrinkled one.

“Is this a good time?” Ava asked. “Where are your roommates?”

“One is sleeping, the others are at work. We’re good,” he said. “I need to start a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”

Both agents declined and Cole moved into the kitchen, talking to them over the breakfast bar. “I can’t function until I get some caffeine. I haven’t slept well since Justin died.” His voice quivered the smallest bit on the name.

“When did you see him last?” Ava asked.

Cole poured water into the top of the coffee maker. “Uh, let’s see . . . it was on a Saturday. Not this past one . . . the one before. We met up at a sports bar down by the river that night.”

Zander made a note. Ava met his gaze and took it as permission to continue with her questions.

“Did you get together very often?” she asked.

“About once a month. Maybe more during the summer.”

“Did anything about him seem off to you? Or was he the same Justin you’ve always known?”

Cole scowled and focused on scooping coffee into the filter. “There’s no easy answer to that. Justin’s always been a changing type of guy.”

“What do you mean?”

He shoved the pot into the machine and hit a button. He leaned on his hands on the counter and studied the machine for a few seconds until it started to rumble and release coffee. “I mean, of course he’s not the same guy I’ve known since we were twelve. Or age fourteen, or sixteen, or eighteen.” He looked across the counter at Ava and Zander. “Yes, he’s always been my friend, but I never know what his interests are going to be. One year it’s sports; the next year he hates sports, and he goes all out taking acting classes and auditioning for parts. He went goth for a while, convinced he’d be in a band, but then he discovered skateboarding, and I swear he slept with his board for six months. Then one day he didn’t want anything more to do with it. You see?”

Ava did. And it sounded hauntingly reminiscent of her twin.

“What was he into recently?” Zander asked.

Cole looked longingly at the pot but left the kitchen and perched on a stool in front of the breakfast bar. He slouched and ran a hand through his hair. “His job, I guess. Kept saying he was going to work his way up to management and then he’d make a ton of money.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Ava commented.

“I wasn’t. I felt like he only said it because he felt he was slipping behind by not going to school. He sees us studying nonstop and taking classes and feels left out. I hope to get a decent job one day, but my degree won’t guarantee that. Takes hard work and a bit of luck, I think. But my dad always said the degree was important to have anyway. It’d give me an advantage against other applicants without one in most positions.” He looked earnestly at Ava and Zander, seeking agreement.

They both nodded. “Some places won’t even look at a résumé unless you have a bachelor’s degree,” said Ava, wanting to encourage him. Although there’s no substitute for experience.

“So when you saw him two Saturdays ago, what was his mood?” Zander asked. “Did he ever talk to you about being angry with someone? Did he mention the shooting in Eugene in June?”

Cole bit his lip and looked at the ceiling. “Nah. His attitude seemed normal. I don’t remember talking about shootings.” He looked at the agents. “But he’d handled guns. I think he took classes at a range somewhere. And I think he went with some friends out to the mountains to go target shooting or something.”

“He owns a gun?” Ava asked. Small alarms were ringing in her head. According to the family and the state, no one in the Yoder household owned a weapon.

“Nah, he’d borrow a friend’s. Said he had to buy the ammo.”

“Who’s the friend?”

“Dunno. No one I’ve ever met. Maybe someone he works with? I think his dad might have taken him shooting once or twice also.”

“How’d he get along with his parents?” Zander asked. Ava watched Cole’s face. Last night Zander had shared a few key points with her from Mason and Ray’s interview with Justin’s doctor. She knew the doctor’s opinion of Justin’s relationship with his father didn’t quite jibe with the parents’ opinion.

Cole shrugged. “Fine. Usual shit. Sorry, ma’am,” he said politely to Ava.

She bit back a laugh. “Not a problem.”

“I know it was hard for Justin, still living at home at his age. But at least he didn’t have to pay rent. He doesn’t know how good he has it—” Cole stopped. “I mean . . . how good he had it. He could spend his work money on his car and stuff. Didn’t have to worry about the gas bill or tuition.” A hint of envy colored Cole’s tone.