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“Are you allowed to drink on the job?”
Vince gri
“Okay. Well, I can certainly use it.”
“You’re not used to having your school overrun with detectives?”
“Not before this week.”
“How long have you been a teacher?”
“Five years.” It seemed like that was all she was going to say, but then she hastened to add, “But I had a double major in college, which took an extra year, and then a year of grad school.”
So she wasn’t as close to being jailbait as one might have thought. She had to be twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He wanted to smile at her need to set him straight on that, but he refrained.
“What was your other major?”
“Psychology. I wanted to be a child psychologist, but-” She stopped herself from being so eager. “Life… took a different turn.”
“Fu
A
The waiter brought the wine. Vince sampled it and nodded his approval. They ordered their meals, sipped at their glasses.
“A
She said nothing, but her eyes got wider.
“I don’t know how much you’ve been told by Detective Mendez,” he went on, “but there is reason to believe Lisa Warwick-the woman your students found in the park-was the latest victim in a series of at least three murders.”
“Oh my God.”
“Another woman is missing. So, you can see, it’s imperative that we try to learn as much as we can from every possible avenue.”
“I don’t know what I can do,” she said. “I teach fifth grade.”
“Detective Mendez told me you have a pretty good handle on who your kids are. I saw that for myself this afternoon.”
She laughed without humor. “Oh, yeah. I’m so sharp I had no idea De
“Why would you suspect that?” Vince asked. “How many people would look at a kid in the fifth grade and peg him for a future killer? Nobody. That’s highly aberrant behavior. No normal-thinking person would look for that.”
“And that’s where you come in?”
He gave her half a smile. “Yeah. I’ve been experienced right out of normal thinking. I’ve spent a long time studying murderers and trying to figure out how they got that way and what makes them tick.”
“How do you sleep with that in your head?”
“Great,” he admitted, “as long as I’m medicated.”
“Why do you do it?”
“Because maybe if I’m good enough at what I do, I can prevent some i
She nodded and looked away, a soft sheen of moisture coming into her eyes.
“I’m sorry you have to get dragged into this world, A
“I’m afraid the right people aren’t going to pay attention to De
Vince sighed. He would have been agreeing with her if he hadn’t wanted to keep her from crying. In fact, if he had been teaching a seminar, using De
His colleagues back in Quantico would think the same. He had sent them De
But he wasn’t about to say any of that to A
“You’re right in what you told his father,” he said instead. “The boy should have psychiatric counseling.”
“And what army is going to make his father believe that?” she asked. “Frank Farman probably thinks he can beat the bad out of De
The strain of the day’s events was taking a toll on her. Vince reached across the table, put his big hand over her small one and gave it a squeeze.
“Don’t give up, A
One crystalline tear slipped over the edge of her lashes and down her cheek as she looked away from him, embarrassed.
“Hey, come on,” Vince cajoled, his voice soft. “No crying. You’ll ruin my reputation as a ladies’ man.”
He won a little smile for that one.
“Are you a ladies’ man?” she asked, visibly relieved for the distraction.
“That all depends on the lady,” he admitted.
Her cheeks bloomed pink and she glanced away, still harboring the little smile. She extricated her hand from under his, wiped the stray tear away and tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t usually fall apart that easily.”
“I’m betting you never fall apart at all,” he said. “But you don’t usually have a kid bring a severed human finger to your classroom either. I think you can cut yourself some slack.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Their food arrived. Her caprese salad, his baked ziti. Vince pushed his plate at her.
“Eat,” he ordered. “Have some ziti. My Italian mother’s cure for everything. She would tell you Avete bisogno della vostra resistenza! Ci e niente a voi!
She seemed pleased with his flamboyant Italian. “What does that mean?”
“You need your strength. You’re too ski
“How old is she?”
“Eighty-two. And your mother?”
“Passed away.” She dropped her eyes and picked at a piece of pasta. “A few years ago. Pancreatic cancer.”
“I’m sorry,” Vince said. The different turn A
“Will outlive both of us, despite his alleged poor health.”
She didn’t seem especially happy about the prospect.
“You still haven’t told me how I’m supposed to help your investigation,” she said. Back to business.
He stuck a fork in his side of the pasta. “Tell me about Tommy Crane.”
She thought he’d thrown her a curve ball. She looked up at him, suspicious again. “Why would you want to know about Tommy?”
“We have to pursue all possible angles in a case like this,” he said. “Understand?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not saying the investigation is going in one direction or another at this point. We’re still trying to piece together the last day anyone saw Karly Vickers, the missing girl. Miss Vickers had a dentist’s appointment last Thursday. It was her last appointment of the day.”
“With Peter Crane.”
“So far, he’s the last person to have seen her-that we know of.”
“You can’t possibly think he’s involved,” she said. “He’s the nicest man. Tommy adores his father.”
“I didn’t say he was a suspect. He’s not even a person of interest at this point,” Vince explained. “But he is the last person to have seen this young woman. We have to account for his whereabouts that night. I would like to do that as discreetly as possible.”