J. Robb - Innocent In Death

“Of course, I do.”

“You took your daughter to school this morning, arrived about seven-thirty.”

“Yes, I thought if I took her in, and Reed was there…I saw that he was, on the sign-in screen. So I walked Rayleen to the theater and I went back. I thought, at that time of the morning, he’d be in the fitness center. But I didn’t see him there. I decided to check the pool. I heard them as I stepped through the doorway of the locker room.”

“Heard who?”

“Reed and Principal Mosebly. Arguing, shouting at each other. She told him he was done, that he would no longer be attached to the school. If he didn’t resign, she’d see he was terminated.”

“Why would that upset you?” Eve asked.

“It didn’t-I mean, it wasn’t pleasant, but that wasn’t what upset me. I started to leave. I didn’t want her to find me there. But then…he said, ‘Try it, Arnette.’ He said it like he was so amused. I think he even laughed.”

She shuddered. “I’d never heard him speak like that, so hard, so ugly. He was always so gentle and charming with me, even when I told him I’d made a mistake. He was very understanding. But this…”

“What else did you hear?”

Allika moistened her lips. “He told her he wouldn’t be the only one out on his ass. Push him, he’d push back. How did she think the board would feel if they found out she’d fucked him-that’s exactly how he said it. She’d fucked him, one of her faculty members in that very pool. On sacred school grounds. And in her office. It made me sick to hear it, to hear him start to describe what they’d done together.”

“And Mosebly?” Eve began. “How did she react to the threat of exposure?”

“I don’t know. I ran out, because I was sick. I went to one of the bathrooms and threw up.”

She pressed her fingers to her lips, squeezed her eyes shut. “I was so ashamed. Ashamed and disgusted with myself, with what I did. This was the kind of man I’ve betrayed my husband with. And now he was using that, using Oliver because he knows I’m too big a coward to tell Oliver what I’ve done. He knows I‘ll keep quiet, and I suppose Principal Mosebly will, too. So he’ll just go on to the next.”

“No, he won’t. He’s dead.”

Allika stared at Eve. Then her eyes rolled up and she slid bonelessly to the polished floor.

WHEN ALLIKA REVIVED, SHE CAREENED DIRECTLY into hysteria. The sobbing, the shaking, the wild eyes could have been guilt, a good act, or shock. Eve decided to reserve judgment when the au pair rushed in, carting market bags.

“What is it? What’s happened. Oh, God, is it Rayleen?”

“Kid’s fine.” Eve waited while Cora dumped the bags on the floor and hurried to Allika’s side. “Calm her down. Tranq her if you have to. We’ll finish the interview later.”

“Mr. Straffo?”

“He’s fine, too, as far as I know. Calm her down, then come back. I’ve got a couple of questions for you.”

“All right then, shh, shh, darling.” In the way of women who are natural caregivers, Cora tuned a voice to a soft song. “Come on with Cora now, won’t you? Everything’s going to be all right.”

“It’s all falling apart,” Allika sobbed as Cora drew her up. “He’s dead. My God, he’s dead.”

Cora’s gaze zipped to Eve’s. “Another teacher,” Eve told her.

“Oh, sweet Jesus. Yes, sweetheart, come and lie down awhile.”

Cora led her toward the elevator rather than the staircase. She had her arm around Allika when the doors closed, bearing the other woman’s weight as though she weighed no more than a child.

“Contact Mosebly, Peabody,” Eve said with her eyes trained on the second floor. “I want her to come down to Central. Make it pleasant, apologetic. You know how to play it.”

“Just a few more questions, better for everyone if we talk away from the school. Got it.”

As Peabody got out her pocket ’link, Eve walked casually up the stairs. Just checking on a possible wit, possible suspect, she thought. Perfectly understandable, perfectly acceptable. Perfectly legal.

And if she took her time, looking into the other rooms from their doorways, it wasn’t a violation.

She scanned what she assumed was Straffo’s home office. Spacious, slick, touches of pricey chocolate-brown leather. Good view, with privacy screens engaged. Small sofa, not what a guy would stretch out on for a nap. All business, then.

Across from it was what she supposed would be called Allika’s sitting room. There was a small desk with dramatically curved legs, a matching chair. Pastels, she noted. Pinks and greens and a pretty little fireplace. On the mantel were framed photos. She could see several of the kid, the family, one of husband and wife-younger, softer-beaming out. But there was no photo of a little boy.

The doomed son.

Privacy screens again, but with soft green drapes flanking them. A little footstool, a fancy tea set, flowers.

In the room beyond that was what looked like a playroom. Kiddie domain, Eve thought. Toys, a scaled-down desk, lots of bright colors, so heavy on the candy pink it made Eve’s teeth ache.

The kid rated her own comp, Eve noted, her own screen and entertainment center, her own tea set, with table and chairs. The desk area had been fashioned like an office-for the school generation. Disc files, art supplies, which had likely been used to create some of the pictures on the wall.

The room adjoined, Eve saw through an open door, a large cushy bedroom. Very, very girlie, very, very frothy with its pink and white theme, its collection of dolls, doll furniture.

Which struck Eve as a bit creepy. What did dolls need with chairs, beds, tables? Unless they came to life in the dead, dead of night. And used them.

Yeah, definitely creepy.

She moved on, past the door Cora had shut. Eve could hear the woman murmuring to Allika, crooning to her.

She found a guest room that would have passed muster at a five-star hotel.

That made three bedrooms, three baths-no doubt the master bedroom claimed its own-playroom, sitting room, office on the second floor.

She glanced up, wishing she had an excuse to wander up to the top level.

Instead, she waited until Cora slipped out of the master bedroom. Cora put a finger to her lips as she eased the door shut.

“No soundproofing,” she whispered, and gestured for Eve to follow her to the steps leading down.

“Why no soundproofing in a place like this?”

“Missus wouldn’t have it, I’m told. She wants to be able to hear Rayleen in the night. They had a son, you know, and he died.”

“Yeah, I know about that.”

“I gave her a tranquilizer as you said. She should sleep a couple of hours. I told her I’d call her husband, but she said I mustn’t, and cried all the harder. I don’t know what I should do.”

“How’s it been between the Straffos the last day or two?”

“Ah, well,” Cora pushed at her bright hair. “She’s been nervy. I guess since you’re the police it’s not talking out of school to say she didn’t like him lawyering for that teacher who’d been arrested. They had some words about it yesterday. She was upset, no doubt, and demanded what he’d do if this man was to be charged with Mr. Foster’s murder. Mister, he said it wasn’t her place to interfere with his profession.

“No soundproofing,” Cora added with a wry smile. “It’s the first I’ve heard them argue in that way since I came here. I went up to distract Rayleen from it, but she was in her playroom at her desk doing her schoolwork as she does before family dinner each day. Had her music on.” Cora tapped her ears. “The headset. So she’d have been spared hearing them fight.”