Chapter SevenT
he next morning, I met Will Vonderlin in Saint Joseph’s vestibule before the nine o’clock Mass. Will grew up on the street behind my parents’ house. He was in the grade between Meredith’s and mine and was a part of our neighborhood’s group of kids who hung out together.
Will was talking with a teenager dressed in a Boy Scout uniform when I entered the bright, airy vestibule. He patted the teen’s shoulder and came over to say hello.
“Hey, Will. I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been here. Where have you been?” he asked, chuckling.
“You got me. I usually go to the vigil Mass.”
We chatted for a few minutes before Will mentioned Brooke’s murder.
“Were she and Meredith friends? Meredith’s still at Garland High, right?”
“She is. She and Brooke were in different departm
