‘What other clubs did you hit?’
‘None.’ Stefanie shook her head. ‘That’s it.’
‘You sure? No quick pop-ins somewhere you might have forgotten about?’
The girls shook their heads. It was just the one club.
‘You went straight from your hotel to the club?’ she asked.
The girls started to speak at once, then Jordan deferred again to Stefanie.
‘No, we went to dinner first. Some place in Little Italy. Wait. I’ve got the name.’ Stefanie slipped her fingers inside a small black purse and pulled out a wrinkled piece of yellow carbon paper. She smoothed it out. ‘Luna.’
Ellie wanted to nail down a basic timeline while the girls were still relatively calm, before she had to deliver the news. She walked them through the activities of the previous day. Brunch at Norma’s at 10:30 a.m. At the Museum of Modern Art by twelve thirty. One drink at the hotel bar at five o’clock. Back to their rooms at six to get ready. Taxi to SoHo at seven fifteen. At the Luna bar by eight. Seated at eight thirty. Ate between nine and ten. Left around eleven and walked to Pulse. Two of the girls left at 2:30 a.m. Chelsea stayed.
Into the notebook it all went. Somewhere in that timeline Chelsea’s killer had found her.
‘And it was just the three of you the entire day?’
Two nods for yes.
‘No guys?’
Two shaking heads said no. Ellie didn’t buy it.
‘So tell me about the restaurant. Luna. You didn’t speak to anyone while you were there?’
‘No,’ Stefanie said. ‘We ate by ourselves. Well, we had a couple shots with these lawyers at the bar, but we didn’t see them again once we were seated.’
‘No chance Chelsea gave one of them her number and hooked up with him later in the night?’
Stefanie shook her head. ‘No way. Those guys were probably, like, thirty. Way too old for us.’
‘You sure about that?’ Rogan asked. ‘You said you had two drinks with them.’
‘It’s not like we were bonding or anything. Chelsea gave them fake names and told them we were models in town for a car show. They knew we were messing with them.’
Ellie had always assumed that the New York City dating scene was kinder to men than women, but these girls were painting a different picture.
‘What about the club? Did you meet any guys there?’
Two sets of shrugged shoulders and nervous eyes until Stefanie spoke up. ‘She started talking to some guys in one of the VIP rooms. We were all hanging out in there.’
‘Did you get any names?’ Ellie asked.
‘No.’
She looked to Jordan, who shook her head.
‘Nothing? First names? A nickname?’
‘It’s really loud in those places. You just say things like, “Hey, cool place, have you been here before?” that kind of thing, unless you take it outside to actually talk.’
‘And you didn’t see Chelsea go outside?’
Two shaking heads.
‘Okay, well, was Chelsea with anyone in particular in the VIP room? Or just a big group?’
‘Mostly just the whole group,’ Stefanie said. ‘But she was talking to this one guy when we first got there, and he was the one who brought us all into the VIP room.’
‘Can you describe him?’
‘He was tall, probably a little over six feet. Sort of shaggy, sandy blond hair. Cute.’
‘Oh, I remember him,’ Jordan said. ‘Chelsea was with him for, like, a couple of hours, I think. They were dancing. Looked pretty hot and heavy.’
‘It was flirting,’ Stefanie admonished.
‘I know. I’m just saying, I noticed.’
‘So you got a good look at him, too?’ Ellie asked.
Jordan nodded. ‘He kind of looked like an older Zac Efron. You know, cute more than good looking.’
‘And I would know him from where?’
‘High School Musical? Hairspray? Like, every single tabloid magazine known to man?’
Feeling slightly older than she had a minute earlier, Ellie tried not to think about how much easier this would be if the people who met at Manhattan clubs bothered to exchange names like normal people. She was going to have to sit these girls down with a sketch artist in the small hope of finding someone who apparently looked like an overage teen hunk and probably had absolutely nothing to do with Chelsea’s death.
‘Now, Jordan, you said Chelsea was with this guy for a couple of hours. Did you see her with anyone else?’
Jordan shook her head, but Stefanie spoke up. ‘Yeah, she was dancing with some other guy when I told her we were leaving. I didn’t really pay any attention to him, though. He was giving me a hard time for trying to get Chelsea to leave. Jesus, I let it get to me, and I shouldn’t have. I should have made her come home with us.’
Jordan told Stefanie it wasn’t her fault. Ellie got the impression she’d spoken those words many times that morning.
‘Can you remember anything about him?’
Stefanie chuckled to herself. ‘Yeah, I called him Duran Duran. He had that poser fauxhawk hairdo.’
‘Kind of gelled into the middle?’ Ellie said.
‘Exactly,’ Stefanie said. ‘And he was dressed like some retro eighties MTV video star. Skinny pants. Skinny tie. Really stupid.’
‘What about the basics? Height, weight, age?’
‘Also kind of tall. Not as tall as the first guy. Probably right around six feet. A little older than us, maybe mid-twenties? Dark brown hair. Kind of thin, I guess. I really didn’t pay any attention, but I might recognize him if I saw him again.’
‘Well, I can understand how the outfit might have distracted you.’ Ellie was hoping a little humor might deter Stefanie from another guilt-induced digression.
‘Oh, and Chelsea was calling him Jake.’
‘His name was Jake?’ Ellie clarified.
‘No, like for Jake Gyllenhaal. It’s this thing Chelsea does. If someone looks like a celebrity, she’ll just call them that. So, I didn’t get a great look at the guy, but according to Chelsea, he looked like Jake Gyllenhaal.’
