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“If you’re not a teacher or staff, and you’re not a parent, you’re supposed to have a pass.” The first boy gave her a narrow stare.

“Report me. Now get lost.”

They took off at a darting run, shooting glances back over their shoulders. “Probably building a homemade boomer for their science project,” she muttered, and took out her notes. From ten to eleven, Foster taught his advanced class, utilizing the third-floor media room. “Interesting.”

She used her master on the lounge door. With classes in session it was unoccupied. In her mind, Eve saw Craig zipping in, grabbing his reward soft drink, post workout, preclass. Chatting vids.

Most, if not all of the staff would have been in the building by then, and certainly the majority of the students. And Foster’s thermos sat easily accessed by anyone in his second-floor classroom.

Just as it had while he’d worked out, while he’d taught his advanced class.

What would it have taken? she wondered. A minute? Two? Step in, open the drawer, pour in the poison. Or just switch go-cups. Close it up, walk out again.

A smart killer would have had a backup plan in case anyone had come in. Just leaving a note for Craig. Just needed to check a paper. Easily done if you kept your head.

She turned as Peabody came in with Williams. “Can’t this wait?” he demanded. “It’s a difficult enough day without me having to leave my class with a supervisor droid.”

“Then let’s not waste time. Did you leave your classroom at any time between ten and eleven yesterday?”

“Second period, Monday. That’s a group study session. Yes, I stepped out for a few minutes.”

“To do what?”

“I used the restroom. I drink a lot of coffee.” To prove it, he moved to the AutoChef, programmed a cup. “I always step out for a short time during that class.”

“That classroom is on the same level, the same section as Foster’s. You see anyone? Anyone see you?”

“Not that I recall.”

“You keep a locker in the fitness center.”

“Some of us do. It’s easier than bringing a change of shoes every day.”

“You don’t just have shoes in your locker, Reed. In my experience, when a man keeps that many shields close to hand, he has plans for them.”

There was a brief hesitation, then Williams took a slow sip of coffee. “The last I checked, condoms weren’t illegal.”

“But I ask myself, what might Principal Mosebly have to say about such a generous supply of them in your locker? Or the board of directors, the board of-what is it?-education.”

“Again. Condoms aren’t illegal.”

“Still. What might they think about one of the staff here scoring booty in the locker room, so close to all those innocent young minds and bodies?”

“Carrying protection is just that-carrying protection.” In a nonchalant move, he leaned back as he drank his coffee. “You have a weapon strapped on, but as far as I know, you haven’t stunned anyone in the building.”

“Early days yet,” Eve said lightly. “What else I was thinking was how about those innocent minds. Those innocent bodies. Pretty little girls, so easily lured.”

“Well, for Christ’s sake.” At this, he set down his coffee quickly, shoved out of his slouch against the counter. “That’s despicable and it’s disgusting. I’m not a pedophile. I’ve been a teacher for fourteen years, and have never touched a student in any way that could be considered inappropriate.”

“By whose scale?” Eve wondered.

“Listen. I don’t like girls. I like women. I like women a great deal.”

Eve was more than willing to buy that claim. “Enough to bang them on school property?”

“I don’t have to answer questions like this. Not without a lawyer.”

“Fine, you can call one when we get downtown.”

Shock replaced temper. “You’rearresting me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Listen, listen. Jesus.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “So I’ve had a few encounters. It’s not a crime, but it is questionable behavior as far as my job is concerned. But those encounters were with consenting adults.”

“Names.”

He tried a little charm with a smile that asked for understanding. “Lieutenant, this can’t possibly have any bearing on why you’re here. And a couple of them are married.”

“A couple of them.”

“I like women.” That smile widened. “I like sex. It doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Craig ever notice you liking sex in the locker room?”

“No.”

He said it too quickly, and Eve saw the lie. “He was a straight arrow, wasn’t he? He comes across you having an encounter, he’s going to be shocked. Maybe pissed. He threaten to go to the principal?”

“I had no problem with Craig; he had no problem with me. Ask anyone.”

“I will. We’ll talk again.”

“Kind of slimy,” Peabody commented when he’d left.

“Kind of a motive. He was lying about Craig knowing about his locker-room games.”

She wandered as she spoke and brought the layout of the locker room back into her head. Lots and lots of places for nooky, she decided, if you wanted it that way.

“Maybe he can’t talk Craig out of reporting it, or just fears he will at some point. Protects himself, his job, his lifestyle. He was out of his classroom while Craig was out of his. Opportunity. Puts him, at the moment, top of my list. Let’s take Hallywell.”

“Do you want me to bring her in here?”

“No, let’s try this one in her element.”

Bells chimed as they stepped out of the lounge. Immediately kids poured out of classrooms to swarm the corridors, to send the noise level soaring. They looked and sounded, to Eve’s mind, the way she imagined locusts did when they swarmed over…whatever locusts swarmed over.

Or like ants, Eve thought, scrambling out of their hill. Out of self-preservation, Eve would have ducked back into the lounge until the deluge passed, but one of the kids aimed straight for her.

“Lieutenant Dallas. Excuse me, please.”

Little blonde, Eve thought, sharp eyes. “Rayleen.”

“Yes, ma’am. Was Mr. Foster murdered?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I looked you up on the computer, and that’s what you do. You investigate murders. You’ve done a lot of them. My father said you would have been here yesterday because it was a suspicious death. But that can mean accident, natural causes, or self-termination, too. Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’d be right.”

“But you’re here again today, and asking questions again today, and everyone’s talking about what maybe happened.”

Rayleen pushed at her long curls, held back today with a pair of white barrettes in the shape of unicorns. “A lot of people are asking me because I was the one who found him. I don’t want to tell them what isn’t true. So was Mr. Foster murdered?”

“We’re looking into it.”

“I don’t see how he could have been because he was too nice, and because this is a very safe school. Did you know it’s considered one of the top schools not only in the city, but in the state of New York?”

“Imagine that.”

“I’m the top of my class here.” With another of those prissy smiles that made Eve want to twist the pert little nose out of joint, Rayleen tapped a finger on the gold star she wore on her lapel.

“Whoopee.” Eve started to skirt around Rayleen, but the girl danced backward.

“But if Mr. Fosterwas murdered, my mother’s going to be even more upset. I’m her only child, you see, and she worries about me. She didn’t want me to come to school today.”

“But you’re here.”

“We had a discussion. My parents and I. I have perfect attendance, and that’s factored into my overall rating. I didn’t want to miss class. Melodie didn’t come, though. My mother talked to hers, and Melodie had bad dreams last night. I didn’t, or I don’t remember. I liked Mr. Foster, and I wrote how much I’m going to miss him in my diary. I wish he didn’t have to die.”