Rebecca Winters - My Private Detective

Max looked at him. “Hey, Kev, what are you going to do while your dad’s teaching?”

“Homework,” Gideon answered for him. “He can listen while he works.”

The waitress came over to refresh their water, then left the bill in front of Gideon.

“That sounds pretty good,” Max said as soon as she’d left.

“I guess. But I wish Daniel had asked someone else to teach his class for him,” Kevin muttered.

Invisible messages passed between Max and Gideon.

“Look at it this way, Kev. Besides the fact that he’s helping out a friend, most kids don’t get to see their parents at work. At least you can hear about some of the things your father has to do on the job. You’ll probably learn a lot, even while you’re working on your science and math. I think you’re lucky.”

“I know. Your dad died when you were seven.”

“Both my parents died. I would’ve given anything to have my father around at your age. Just to be with him while he did his work would have meant a lot.”

Kevin nodded. “I’m sorry they died.”

Gideon could always count on Max, who was sensitive to Kevin’s insecurities and knew how to talk to him.

“So am I, but it was all a long time ago.” After draining his water glass, he glanced at his watch, then at Gideon. “I’ll take that.” He reached for the bill, but Gideon was too fast for him and grabbed it away.

“We invited you, remember? We’re glad you could make it, aren’t we, Kevin?”

“Heck, yeah.”

“Give our love to Gaby.”

Max smiled. “Don’t worry.” After getting to his feet, he said, “I’ll see you at the office in the morning. We’ll continue our conversation.”

Gideon nodded to his friend in silent understanding. Concentrating on his milk shake, Kevin waved as Max walked away.

“Ready to go, Kevin?”

“Hold it. I’m almost finished.”

While he gulped down the rest of his shake, Gideon’s thoughts flew to the night ahead, wondering what it would bring. He could hardly wait to find out.

HEIDI DIDN’T WANT Detective Poletti to think she was being forward by arriving for class early, so she waited until the last minute before walking into the room. Everyone else was already seated.

She was disappointed to discover that their teacher was nowhere in sight. Maybe he’d had a work emergency and Mr. Johnson had opened the door for them.

As she took the only seat left, which was next to the woman named Nancy, she noticed a cute blond boy about the age of her eighth-or ninth-graders seated a few rows behind the semicircle of desks. Obviously one of the students had brought his or her son along.

He had materials and books on his desk, but his attention darted around the room as he eyed the displays.

Nancy, who looked thirtyish, turned her head toward Heidi. “Isn’t this a great class?”

“Fascinating.”

“To be honest,” she whispered, “I’m glad the other teacher couldn’t make it. This guy’s gorgeous, don’t you think?”

“He’s very attractive, I agree.”

“We’ve all been wondering if he’s married. Do you happen to know?” she asked as the subject of their conversation suddenly walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

Tonight he was dressed in tan chinos toned with a dark-brown turtleneck and blazer—almost the color of his hair. He flashed everyone the smile Heidi had found so heart-stopping the last time the class had met.

“Good evening. What a punctual crowd! Before we get started, let me introduce my son, Kevin, who’s seated behind you.”

While everyone else turned around, Heidi lowered her head, fighting not to react to that unexpected revelation.

Nancy now had the answer to her question. So did Heidi.

She drew in a deep breath, acknowledging to herself that it was better to know the truth before any more time went by. With a class full of women who were open in their admiration of him, he’d probably brought his son to make the statement that he was unavailable.

“Because of the nature of my work, he can’t go to the office with his dad.” His comment produced chuckles. “We both thought the next best thing would be for him to sit in on this class so he can learn along with you.

“I let him read all your synopses so he’d understand what we did in class last week. For what it’s worth, Lillian, he thought your mummy story was really cool.”

A hand shot up.

“Yes, Jackie?”

“Lillian’s the only one of us published in book-length fiction. Your son has discerning taste.”

The enthusiastic group agreed with her.

Even from the distance separating them, Heidi could see the way the boy’s eyes lit up.

“Did you hear that, Kevin? You picked a story that’ll probably turn out to be another bestseller.”

“With your help, Detective Poletti, I’m planning on it,” Lillian said in obvious delight.

He flashed the class a quick smile. “In that case, let’s get busy. First, I’m curious to find out how well you did your homework. After that, I’ll return your synopses. We’ll follow up with a five-minute break at eight. Then we’ll hear a mystery scenario from Heidi before I give you your assignment for Friday.”

Embarrassed, Heidi forced herself to look anywhere except at the man who held their class in thrall.

The next hour was illuminating. Just as they were all feeling pleased by his praise of their crime-scene workups, he showed the class why he was the expert.

Standing at the chalkboard, Detective Poletti proceeded to change, embellish and add to their pitiful efforts, explaining all the while. He did it with a speed and clarity that took her breath.

By the time he’d finished, the class sat there in stunned silence. He’d filled two blackboards with onsite procedures they’d never even considered, despite the textbook murder case he’d prepared for them as a guide.

“Don’t bother to copy this down. While I pass back your stories, Kevin’s going to give you a handout of what I put on the board so you can study it at home.” He motioned to his son.

“You’ll notice when you get your synopses that I’ve made a few suggestions for crime-scene procedures. Combined with the handout you’re receiving, you ought to be able to create a credible list that’ll add authenticity to your novels.”

Heidi found herself wishing she had a copy of the crime-scene report that had been written the night of Amy’s murder. Something told her it would pale in comparison to what she could see written on her blackboards. The detail, the number of procedures, the orderly exploration of evidence—she doubted the real crime-scene report was a fraction as thorough as this fictional one. First thing in the morning she intended to phone John Cobb’s office to get what information she could.

Deep in thought, she didn’t realize the boy had already started giving them the handouts. Everyone tried to engage him in conversation. Judging from his answers, he was embarrassed by all the attention. A pretty typical reaction for a boy his age.

“Thank you, Kevin.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You must be proud of your father.”

“I am.”

“Are you going to be a police officer one day?”

“Maybe.”

“Where’d you get your blond hair?”

“My mom.”

“What grade are you in?”

“Eight.”

“Where do you go to school?”

“Oakdale Middle School.”

Heidi listened to the litany of questions that would have driven any of her own students crazy, too. He wasn’t a baby, but they were treating him like one. He showed remarkable poise by answering them, despite his obvious reluctance.

As he drew closer, she darted him a brief glance. He was a cute boy, but she couldn’t really see any resemblance to his attractive father. Sometimes that happened.