They'd been in the shadows when he and Nick were in high school. Back then, the use and sales had mostly happened off-campus. Today, it sounded as if they were commonplace. He hoped Mrs. Henley thought of something helpful and called. Having a friend inside the school would be invaluable.
Rafe walked toward the side exit, the quickest route to the field house. The deeper into the bowels of the building he went, the more out of place he felt. Suddenly, teenagers poured out of classrooms into the hall. Seeing him, they reacted as if he were Moses parting the water. Their curiosity entertained them for a minute, and then they hustled off to their next classes.
He jogged down the stairs, stepped outside, breathed in the spring air, and headed down the path to the field house. Rapid footsteps on the concrete drew his attention. A pretty brunette with an armful of books was locked on him, and she was gaining ground. He moved off the path and waited.
The student slid to a stop, looking him up and down. He remained silent, allowing her to catch her breath and start the conversation on her terms.
"One of the guys said you were on TV." She shuffled her feet as if standing barefoot on hot pavement, which she wasn't. "Were they lying? Are you really an FBI agent?"
This young girl's face screamed fear. "Guilty as charged, but I'm not here on business. I graduated from Westbrook."
"Really?" Her eyebrows lifted.
"For real. Go look at the pictures in the trophy case. I'm the football player wearing the number fourteen on my jersey." He smiled, and her bunched shoulders relaxed. "I'm Rafe Sirilli. And you are?"
"Grace...just Grace." She bit down on her bottom lip.
Rafe decided to approach her carefully. She was scared shitless and would bolt like a frightened rabbit if he pressed. "Why did you ask if I'm FBI?"
"I heard you were Ms. Brady's friend." She shifted again, this time looking over her shoulder.
"That's true. We went to school together." Rafe slowly maneuvered Grace to the bleachers. He sat down and patted the bench next to him. "I can't help if I don't know what's frightening you."
She hesitated and then moved to his other side. It was obvious she was uncomfortable being seen with him, so he shifted his body to shield her from prying eyes.
"I'm the new girl at school. We moved from Houston a couple of months ago." A thin sheen of sweat highlighted her forehead. "I didn't know anybody, and people weren't falling all over themselves to be my friend. Penny and her girls were the first who let me hang out with them."
"Are you somehow caught up in the lie about Ms. Brady?" He paused, waiting until she nodded. "Have you told the principal Ms. Brady didn't make inappropriate advances or threats?"
"I can't. I'm not opening my mouth." She jumped up. Her movements were so jerky the books she carried fell to the ground.
"Grace." He scooped up her books and handed them to her. "Telling the truth is the right thing to do."
"If you tell, I'll deny it." Books clutched to her chest, she stared at him for a long heartbeat. "There are two of us still alive. We just want to stay that way."
"Take my card. Call when you're ready to talk." He reached for his pocket. She waved him off. "Just take a look at it."
Her fingers trembled as she accepted the card. Her gaze dropped and then flashed back to his face. "I just wanted Ms. Brady to know I'm glad she was cleared."
"I'll pass that on for you. But I need to know more about the drugs that were in Penny's purse."
"I have to go."
"Stay safe, Grace. Call me if you change your mind."
"You should be careful, too. First Penny, then Sara, and last night some photographer who was covering the story. Looks to me like anybody close to this mess could be next." She rushed back inside the building.
What was this about a photographer? Fuck. Was he going to have to watch every news show that aired to keep up with this killer? He grabbed his cell and pulled up the news. Son of a bitch. The guy Rafe
Rafe walked toward the side exit, the quickest route to the field house. The deeper into the bowels of the building he went, the more out of place he felt. Suddenly, teenagers poured out of classrooms into the hall. Seeing him, they reacted as if he were Moses parting the water. Their curiosity entertained them for a minute, and then they hustled off to their next classes.
He jogged down the stairs, stepped outside, breathed in the spring air, and headed down the path to the field house. Rapid footsteps on the concrete drew his attention. A pretty brunette with an armful of books was locked on him, and she was gaining ground. He moved off the path and waited.
The student slid to a stop, looking him up and down. He remained silent, allowing her to catch her breath and start the conversation on her terms.
"One of the guys said you were on TV." She shuffled her feet as if standing barefoot on hot pavement, which she wasn't. "Were they lying? Are you really an FBI agent?"
This young girl's face screamed fear. "Guilty as charged, but I'm not here on business. I graduated from Westbrook."
"Really?" Her eyebrows lifted.
"For real. Go look at the pictures in the trophy case. I'm the football player wearing the number fourteen on my jersey." He smiled, and her bunched shoulders relaxed. "I'm Rafe Sirilli. And you are?"
"Grace...just Grace." She bit down on her bottom lip.
Rafe decided to approach her carefully. She was scared shitless and would bolt like a frightened rabbit if he pressed. "Why did you ask if I'm FBI?"
"I heard you were Ms. Brady's friend." She shifted again, this time looking over her shoulder.
"That's true. We went to school together." Rafe slowly maneuvered Grace to the bleachers. He sat down and patted the bench next to him. "I can't help if I don't know what's frightening you."
She hesitated and then moved to his other side. It was obvious she was uncomfortable being seen with him, so he shifted his body to shield her from prying eyes.
"I'm the new girl at school. We moved from Houston a couple of months ago." A thin sheen of sweat highlighted her forehead. "I didn't know anybody, and people weren't falling all over themselves to be my friend. Penny and her girls were the first who let me hang out with them."
"Are you somehow caught up in the lie about Ms. Brady?" He paused, waiting until she nodded. "Have you told the principal Ms. Brady didn't make inappropriate advances or threats?"
"I can't. I'm not opening my mouth." She jumped up. Her movements were so jerky the books she carried fell to the ground.
"Grace." He scooped up her books and handed them to her. "Telling the truth is the right thing to do."
"If you tell, I'll deny it." Books clutched to her chest, she stared at him for a long heartbeat. "There are two of us still alive. We just want to stay that way."
"Take my card. Call when you're ready to talk." He reached for his pocket. She waved him off. "Just take a look at it."
Her fingers trembled as she accepted the card. Her gaze dropped and then flashed back to his face. "I just wanted Ms. Brady to know I'm glad she was cleared."
"I'll pass that on for you. But I need to know more about the drugs that were in Penny's purse."
"I have to go."
"Stay safe, Grace. Call me if you change your mind."
"You should be careful, too. First Penny, then Sara, and last night some photographer who was covering the story. Looks to me like anybody close to this mess could be next." She rushed back inside the building.
What was this about a photographer? Fuck. Was he going to have to watch every news show that aired to keep up with this killer? He grabbed his cell and pulled up the news. Son of a bitch. The guy Rafe
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