Page 49 of Holmes, Margaret and Poe

“No. The demands came to her and her high-school coach by e-mail. They wanted fifty thousand dollars the first time. The second time — evidently two days ago — they wanted a hundred grand.”

“How does a college freshman come up with fifty K?”

Bree explained about the father dying in the industrial accident.

“And the coach?”

“I’ve got nothing firsthand.”

Creighton rubbed her temples. “And Dawson knows nothing?”

“She and Iliana weren’t that close. Or anyway, they weren’t BFFs,” Bree said.

“But the victim invited her to stay the weekend?”

“As I understand it,” Bree said. She explained that Meadows had texted Jannie earlier in the day to set up a meeting with Bree. “I was supposed to advise her on what to do next.”

“Where’s the mom in all this?”

“Nancy Meadows. I left her a message earlier. No response. She evidently flits about the world with various boyfriends.”

“I’d like the three of you to come down and give formal statements at Chain Bridge Road,” Creighton said.

“We can drive ourselves?”

“I’ll have cruisers take you, if you don’t mind.”

Bree understood. The detective wanted to check their stories, see if everything had played out the way they’d said.

“I don’t mind,” Bree said. “Our car’s next to Iliana’s green BMW, across the street in the apartment parking lot. And by the way, I videoed the apartment as I went through it. Her running shoes, jacket, and laptop were missing. I’ll forward the video to you.”

“Her phone wasn’t on her either,” Creighton said. “And you knew to come down this trail how?”

“Iliana texted Tina about it, said that she could get a loosen-up run in here.”

“Thanks, Bree,” the detective said. “I’ll be along soon.”

Creighton went back up the spur road to the murder scene. Bree waited for Jannie and Tina Dawson to finish talking to the other two detectives, and then they walked up the hill together to the cruisers waiting on Pickett Road.

“Why can’t I drive myself?” Dawson asked.

“It’s standard operating procedure,” Bree said. “They’ll bring us back. Do you want to call someone?”

“The coaches. They’ll want to know.”

“They will.”

“How do you tell somebody something like this? I’ve never … ” Tears rolled down her face and she put her hand to her mouth. “Oh God, it was awful.”

Jannie hugged her. “You tell them you’re okay and that you found Iliana and you’re talking to the police.”

Dawson had calmed down by the time they reached the cruisers. The detectives took them in two separate patrol cars, Jannie and Tina in one, Bree in the other.

Three junior detectives were waiting for them when they arrived at Fairfax County Police headquarters. They brought them to separate rooms and heard their stories.

About an hour later, Bree signed her statement and left the room. Jannie was sitting on a bench, waiting.

“How did it go?” Bree said, taking out her phone and seeing several texts.

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