It will take me an hour, but it’s better than sticking around. I need time to think. I make my way across the parking lot and toward the streaks of cars on Westlake Road. Mike left Paige while they were getting the soda to find a hand truck. And he was on his own when he returned it. He could’ve killed June at either point. He had the time. The police don’t know it, but he did. Do I really believe he’d be capable of something like that? I don’t know. Looking at his face tonight, red and fuming, I—I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe under the wrong circumstances. If he was provoked, angry, if he lost his temper. Maybe we’re all capable of something like that if we’re provoked. But what could June have possibly done to provoke him? He barely knew she existed. I can’t think of a single reason Mike would have to hurt her. I shiver. The spring hasn’t yet given up to summer, and despite the sunny days the nights are see-your-breath cold. I have no jacket; it’s still in my mom’s car.
