Jeffery Deaver - The Lesson of Her Death

"Flush."

"Yeah, well." Kresge seemed uncomfortable.

The room was probably a third as big as the entire New Lebanon Sheriffs Department. Corde took pleasure walking over the thick green carpet and wondered why two busy oriental rugs had been laid over the pile.

"That's the biggest desk I've ever seen."

"Yeah, well."

Corde sat down in one of the visitor's chairs, which was itself bigger and more comfy than his own Sears armchair at home, and his a recliner at that. He tried to scoot it closer to the desk but it wouldn't move and he had to stand again and lug the chair up to the desk.

Kresge explained, "Was the office of some dean or another. Academic affairs, something like that. He retired and they needed someplace to put me. I think they like having a black man on this corridor. See, when you come this way from the main stairwell you see me at my big desk. Looks good for the school. Think I'm a big shot. Little do they know. So they caught the kid."

"They caught him. He was a friend of my son's."

"Well." Kresge would be wondering whether he should ask the question about how close a friend but he let it pass.

"The evidence is pretty strong against him. He's a spooky boy and his father's worse." Corde realized he still had his hat on – it banged into the high back of the chair – and he took it off, pitched it like a Frisbee onto the seat of the other chair. He opened his briefcase. "I need a favor."

"Sure," Kresge said eagerly.

Corde leaned forward and set a plastic bag in front of Kresge. Inside was the burnt scrap of computer paper.

"What's this?"

"A bit of that paper we found behind -"

"No, I mean this." The security chief pointed at the white card attached to the bag by a red string.

"That? A chain of custody card."

"It's got your name on it."

"It's not important, Wynton. The piece of -"

"This's for trial, right?"

"Right. So the prosecutor can trace the physical evidence back to the crime scene."

"Got it. So that if there's a gap in the chain, the defense attorney can get the evidence thrown out?"

"Right." Because Corde was here to ask a favor he indulged Kresge, who was examining the COC card closely. Finally Corde continued, "The piece of paper inside? I'd like to find out where it came from. I've got this idea -"

"You're leaning on it."

"- it's from the school. What?"

"You're leaning on it."

"On what?"

Kresge motioned him away. Corde sat back in the chair and Kresge yanked a thick wad of computer printouts from beneath a stack of magazines. Corde had been using the pile as an armrest.

"It's a university Accounting Department printout. They send them around every week to each department.

Mine shows me security expenses, real and budgeted, allocation of overhead. You know, that sort of thing."

"You know what department this was from?"

Kresge looked at it. "No idea."

"Any chance you could find out?"

"Technically I don't have access to the Accounting Department's files."

Corde asked coyly, "How 'bout untechnically?"

"I'll see what I can do." After a pause he asked, "But if they caught the boy what's the point?"

Corde slowly touched away a fleck of lint from his boot heel and stalled long enough that an attractive woman blustered into the office with an armful of letters for Kresge to sign. The security chief rose and with clumsy formality introduced two people with nothing in common except their lack of desire to meet. Corde, however, was grateful for the curious decorum – it seemed to drive the question from Kresge's mind and after the signing-fest, when their conversation resumed, he did not ask it again.

She could sense him nearby, almost as though he was hovering right over her body like a wave of hot sunlight.

She swung her head about, peering into the clearing, into the forest, the tall grass.

More footsteps, leaves rustling, twigs snapping.

(So: He doesn't fly, he doesn't materialize, he doesn't float. He walks. That's okay.)

Sarah looked for the glow of sun as he approached but she could see nothing except trees and branches, leaves, grass, shadows. The footsteps grew closer. Hesitant, uncertain. Then she saw him – a figure in the woods, coming slowly toward her, picking his way through the brush. He seemed less like a wizard than, well, a big man tromping noisily through the forest. (That's okay too.)

"I'm over here. Here!" She stood up, waving her arm.

He paused, located her and slowly changed direction, pushing aside branches.

She picked up the stuffed bear and ran toward him. She shouted, "I'm here!"

A sheet of bright green leaves lifted aside and the deputy stepped out, brushing dust and leaves off his uniform.

"Tom!" she cried, her heart sinking.

"Hey, missie, how'd you get here without getting all messed up?" He picked a leaf out of his hair then swatted his forehead. "Skeeter." He examined his palm.

Crestfallen, Sarah stared up at him.

"You're not supposed to be out here, you know. You could get me in a whole mess of trouble. You're supposed to stay close to the house. Anyway, 'nough said. Your mom wants to see you now. You've got an appointment at the doctor's, she says."

"I can't come right now." She scanned the forest. He's leaving! I can tell the deputy scared him off.

"Well, I don't know," Tom said patiently. "Your mother told me to fetch you."

"Not now, please? Just a half hour?" She was close to tears.

"That's a cute little fellow you've got there. What's his name?"

"Chutney."

"How about if you and Chutney come home now and afterward you come back here with me and I'll keep an eye on you? How'd that be?"

When she didn't answer, the deputy said, "Your mom'll be pretty unhappy with me if I don't bring you right now, like she asked. You don't want her to have words with me, do you?"

It was true. If she didn't come now, if she missed the appointment with Dr. Parker, her mother would be furious with the deputy. Sarah couldn't stand the thought of anyone being mad because of her. People hated you when you made them mad, they laughed at you.

She looked around her once more. The Sunshine Man was gone now. He'd fled and was far away.

"Why you looking so sad, little lady?"

"I'm not sad." Sarah walked through the grass. "Come this way. It's easier." She led him out of the tall grass into the strip of land beside the cow pasture and turned toward the house, certain that she and the Sunshine Man would never meet.

Special to the Register – A freshman at New Lebanon High School has been charged in the "Moon Killer" slayings of two Auden University coeds, law enforcement authorities announced today.

The fifteen-year-old youth, whose identity has been withheld because of his age, was apprehended by town and county deputies at his parents' home yesterday afternoon.

"He clearly fits the profile that we were working from," said New Lebanon Sheriff Steve Ribbon. "He had a collection of deviate photographs and drawings of girls from the high school. It looked like he had a whole series of assaults planned."

Sheriff Ribbon added that authorities are looking at the possibility that the youth was involved in the slaying last year of another Auden co-ed, Susan Biagotti.

"At the time," he said, "it appeared that the girl was killed during a robbery. But the way we're looking at it now, it might have been the first in this series of killings."

Some residents greeted the news of the arrest with cautious relief. "Of course, we're glad he's been caught," said a New Lebanon housewife who refused to give her name, "but it seems like there's still a lot of questions. Was he doing this alone? Is it safe for my children to go back to school?"