CHAPTER 13
Kate didn’t remember another time in her life when she’d been so exhausted, physically and emotionally.
The past several hours had been a long sequence of questions and answers, of searches and arguments, of hopes and hopes dashed. With Chester Slate’s suicide, the answers Kate had been seeking would go to the grave with him. She couldn’t stop thinking of his mad rhymes, of the stewpot. Kate knew, deep inside, that despite what the man had said about Isaac being nice, and deserving to go on sleeping in peace, his body had been dumped in a bog somewhere deep in the evil woods surrounding the academy. He and the other boys were lost forever. Although she had become accustomed to that loss in the past six months, the finality of it still pierced her heart.
Kate’s car was still parked where she’d left it, at least a mile away, and Derek drove her out there on his motorcycle to retrieve it. He steered carefully on the rough road but the rushing wind still helped revive her. She told herself the tears stinging her eyes and blowing off her face were a product of that breeze. She was only half-lying.
“I’m driving you home,” he said when they reached her car.
“Your motorcycle….”
“It’ll be all right here overnight. Well, considering it’s almost three a.m., not even a full night.” He cut the engine and thrust at the kickstand with his booted heel, and helped her off. With the faintest of smiles, he wiped something off her face—dirt, bugs, tears, she didn’t know.
“You really don’t have to drive me.”
“Yeah, I do. You’re exhausted. I don’t want you going home alone. What’s your address?”
Mumbling it, she crawled into the passenger seat. Despite not wanting to put him to the trouble, she really was grateful he’d made the offer. Her tears had been blown away, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t return…tonight, and long into the future.
They drove away, and as they reached the main road, leaving Fenton in the rearview, she had only one thought. Goodbye, Isaac.
Reaching the small apartment she’d rented for her stay in Savannah, Kate led him to the door, not sure if he would come inside or not. Derek would need to drive her car home if he left. If he didn’t leave, she could take him back out there to get his bike tomorrow.
She didn’t ask, though. Neither did he. He simply followed her inside, waiting while she turned on a light.
“God, I need a shower,” she said, seeing the dirt on her own hands, under her nails, and all the way up her bare arms.
Derek stared at her face. “You are a mess, beautiful Kate,” he murmured. “But the key word is beautiful.”
Brushing her tangled hair back, his warm hands gentle against her skin, he slowly moved forward and touched her lips with his, not caring what a mess she was.
Kate sighed against his mouth and leaned into him, seeking his warmth and his strong, hard body. Their kiss was soft and slow, moist lips sliding together, parting a little as they shared each breath. He didn’t even really end it when he asked, “Where’s that shower?”
She pointed toward a door leading into the bedroom. Still kissing her, Derek lifted her by the hips. Kate instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He’d carried her before, but not like this. Not with this intimate a connection of their bodies.
The kiss changed, his tongue stroking harder against hers. Kate’s tension segued into something else. Something not about loss, grief, fear, and anger.
This was about connection. About life.
She felt herself relax as their kiss deepened, exploring his hot mouth, meeting every hungry thrust of his tongue. He walked through the darkened bedroom toward the bath. Inside, Kate reached for the light switch and flicked it on.
“How hot do you want it?” he asked as he lowered her to stand in front of him.
So hot. So damned hot. “Steamy.”
“You got it.”
He reached into the shower stall and turned on the water, and then looked back at her. His dark eyes glittered, his expression was wolfish. The want dripped from the man.
Feeling entirely feminine—powerful—Kate reached for the bottom of her tank top and tugged it out of her waistband. Brushing her hands away, Derek took over, slowly peeling the tight fabric up and off.
She heard his tiny groan when he looked down at her breasts pushing up over the black bra. But he didn’t reach for the front fastener, instead gliding his hands down her bare stomach to undo the button of her pants. The slow stroke made her quiver, and the weakness in her legs had nothing to do with fatigue.
Before he unfastened her zipper, Derek moved down, lowering himself to his knees, his mouth following the same path of his hands. She had to grab the counter behind her when she felt his hot breaths reach her belly button and his tongue dip just below her waistband.
“Foot,” he whispered once he was on his knees. He wrapped a hand around her ankle.
Leaning against the counter, she watched as he unlaced her mud-caked boot. He pulled it off and tossed it aside, taking her thick hiking sock with it. The other one followed.
Then he was back to business. Her pants came down as his mouth went up.
Derek scraped his lips and his tongue against the hollow just above her boy-cut underwear, that hot breath again hitting her body but heating her blood. She was panting by the time he reached her waist. Gasping when he arrived at her chest. Whimpering when he took the clasp of her bra beneath his teeth and snapped it open.
“Christ,” he said as he moved to one breast and tasted the bottom curve.
Kate arched toward him, needing his mouth. He took his time getting where she wanted him, moving in circles as he neared the tip. When he finally stroked it with his tongue, she grabbed his hair and twined her fingers in it. With a gruff laugh, he finally gave her what she demanded, taking her nipple into his mouth and drawing it deep.
If she hadn’t been leaning against the counter, Kate would have fallen. Her muscles melted away as he palmed her breast and continued sucking. “I’ve wanted that since the minute I saw your mouth.”
“Ditto,” he growled as he moved to pay the same attention to her other aching breast. He went back and forth, sampling one side while rubbing his thumb over the other. He didn’t even stop as he reached for his shirt and started pulling it up, only stepping away when it came as high as his face.
Kate didn’t know if her hands would stop shaking enough to help, so she simply watched.
Every inch he revealed of his body revealed more about the man. His abdomen rippled with rows of muscle made more delicious by his musky sweat. A thin line of hair rose from his middle, spreading up over a chest that went on for days and days. When he tossed the shirt aside, his arms bulged and flexed, the sheer power of him a sight to behold. Even with dried blood on his arm from where Slate’s knife had skidded by, he looked unbreakable.
But there was more about his body that told Derek’s story.
A jagged scar, longer than the one on his head, extended from his left clavicle toward the center of his chest. It stopped life-changingly short of his heart.
There was another rough line on his ribcage. And a small, round scar down on his hip.
It hadn’t merely been shrapnel that had left its mark. He’d been shot.
She pulled her lips into her mouth and blinked hard to hide her emotions. Any one of those injuries could have removed him from her life before she even knew he existed. That would have been a tragedy of epic proportions.
Because Kate had fallen in love with him. She might have initially wanted him for his looks. Her heart had now gotten involved, though. She loved his inner strength, loved that he always endured, that he was kind despite his gruffness. She loved that he still cared about every person whose death he saw…that he stood sentry for them. That he prayed for them.
He was the best man she’d ever known. And she loved him. That was all.
“Kate? You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. Leaning close, she kissed the ragged, three-inch long line on his chest. Wanting to hold onto him tightly, Kate wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking her head into his chin.
Derek allowed it, but only for a few seconds. Then he stepped away and reached for his belt, slowly drawing it free of its loops. Kate still mourned over what must have caused those stark reminders of his past that marked his body, but she also breathed harder in anticipation as he unfastened his top button. This was, after all, about the future. About life. Not darkness, and not the past. Not the might-have-beens, but the will-soon-bes.
Soon couldn’t come fast enough for her.
Knowing he would have the same problem she did, she stilled his hand before he pushed the trousers off his hips. Gliding her tongue down his body, liking the salty, earthy taste of his skin, she dropped to her knees and reached for his boots. Knowing how much his breath had affected her, she moved her lips against the fabric at his groin, exhaling.
He groaned. “You’re evil.”
“Right back at you.”
When she reached for his waistband, Derek stopped her, pulling her to her feet. “Huh-uh. You do that and this shower isn’t going to be nearly as interesting as I know we both want it to be.”
Smiling, she murmured, “Then let’s take it.”
Kate held her breath and watched as he flicked open every button of the military-style camo pants. It was torturously slow, and she was gulping by the time the last button popped free and the trousers slid down his lean hips on their own.
He wore nothing underneath.
“You really are a commando.”
A brief tug of his hands, and he was naked. The sight of him made her weak.
Handsome didn’t describe the man. He was simply delicious. The perfect face, powerful torso, lean hips, and solid, muscular legs were a depiction of what every woman wanted and what every man wanted to be. The scars didn’t matter; in fact, they enhanced Derek’s rugged appeal.
Oh, then there was the huge erection waiting to be taken in and savored.
Kate swallowed hard, a little stunned, a lot excited. Unable to resist, she moved her fingers to its tip, stroking lightly, loving the feel of softness that encased pure steel.
“You’re overdressed,” he growled, grabbing the cotton material at her own hips and yanking it hard. Her panties split. He tore them away, tossing them over his shoulder.
“He-man.”
He grabbed her by the waist and buried his face in the nape of her neck, nuzzling her. “Devil-woman. I knew there was a reason you have that wickedly-sexy red hair.”
Kate backed toward the shower. He lifted her over the bottom edge and followed her in.
As she’d wanted, the water was steamy hot, and she closed her eyes as it hit her sore muscles. Derek groaned with pleasure, too. For a solid minute, the two of them stood there, letting the hard stream wash away the night’s grime.
He finally moved, reaching for a bottle of shampoo on a corner rack. Kate watched him squeeze a large dollop into his hand, but was surprised when he put it in her hair, not his own. His strong hands worked it through the long, tangled strands, the strokes gentle but sensuous. She’d never imagined the pleasure to be found in having a powerful man do something as simple as this. Every stroke was a caress, even the ones that caused tiny leaves and bits of moss to fall from his fingers.
She laughed softly. “I really am a mess.”
“Ah-ah. A beautiful mess.”
Dropping her head back, Kate closed her eyes and let the streaming water wash away the suds. As they ran in rivulets down her body, Derek caught them and rubbed them into her skin, adding body wash as he began to clean every inch of her.
Every single inch.
She had to put her hands behind her and brace herself against the tiled wall when he washed her breasts, followed by her midriff and waist. It was a good thing she had; her knees almost buckled when one big, strong hand moved between her thighs.
“Oh, God,” she groaned, seduced by the warmth of his touch, the pounding of the water, the steam all around them, and the scent of soap and man filling every breath. She was completely lost to sensation, and the best one was moving higher up her legs.
He reached her hot core and slid his fingers inside. Kate let out a tiny scream. She arched toward his touch, and he responded by circling his thumb over her clit in slow, steady strokes. She shook. Quivered. Quaked. Could barely breathe. When he moved down and replaced his thumb with his mouth, licking at her delicately, she exploded. Wave after wave of release flowed through her to wash away every ache and replace it with pure satisfaction.
Derek immediately slid up her wet body, putting his hands on either side of hers against the wall. “I need you now, Kate. Are you protected?”
She managed to nod, still not down from the heights. But her focus returned when he lifted one of her thighs and nudged close, making a place for himself…the very place she’d wanted him to be since the day they met.
He didn’t claim her gently. Derek had prepared her well, and with a hungry, guttural groan, he drove into her in one smooth thrust that touched her very core.
“Oh, Derek, yes!” she cried.
“I’ve wanted you…needed you…”
“I know. Me too.”
Then words faded, and their innate desire took over. Drawing out slowly, he came back into her, again, and again. She held onto him, digging her nails in his shoulders. He had her by the hips, pressing her against the wall as took her, imprinted himself on her, claimed her body and soul.
She heard his groans as he neared the end of his control. “Yes,” she whispered, her hips arching toward him, wanting him…needing him…craving him.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, his whole body going stiff.
She felt him pulsing deep inside her, and just that deep, powerful sensation was enough to send her over the top again too.
Derek didn’t pull away immediately. He simply continued to hold her, still inside her as they both panted and tried to regain their equilibrium.
“Kate?” he finally said when they could both breathe again.
“Yes?”
“I told you I’d come after you.”
Yes, he had. She smiled up at him, twining her arms around his neck.
“And you even did it up against a wall.
Waking in an unfamiliar bed, it took a second for Derek to get his bearings. Bright morning light was shining in his eyes, which was unusual since he rarely rose much later than dawn. He blinked, and then felt a warm body shifting under the covers beside him.
Oh. Kate. Beautiful, sensual, perfect Kate.
He rolled onto his side, looking at her sleeping face. Her red hair was strewn all over the pillow in tangled waves; she hadn’t even brushed it last night and it had dried during her sleep. Her soft lips were slightly parted; she breathed easily. Her face was flushed with color, and she looked more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. He hoped he’d had something to do with that.
Although he would have liked to spend the whole day in this bed, exploring every inch of that soft, silky body, he knew the real world would crash in soon. Reaching for his phone to check the time, he realized it was completely dead. After last night, that wasn’t a surprise.
“Can’t borrow yours, either, can I?” he whispered with a soft laugh. Kate’s phone, of course, was somewhere in the swamp, maybe being used as a life raft for a weary frog.
Trying not to wake her, he slid out from under the covers and headed for the bathroom. It was a mess. Their clothes remained where they’d fallen, along with damp towels. They hadn’t picked up a thing after their hot—oh, so damn hot—shower. After they’d dried off, he’d carried her to bed, and they’d gone to sleep. Waking up once, they’d had slow, lazy, sleepy sex, the kind that seemed like an erotic dream, and then slept like the dead again.
He wished he could lather, rinse, and repeat every moment since they’d gotten back here. But that wasn’t an option. Not today. Not when everything had to be hitting the news, and the school was now a major crime scene. They might even have already started finding and hauling up victims.
There would be no bodies, other than poor Anderson’s, as mangled as it was. But perhaps divers would find skeletal remains. That would lead to DNA testing, weeks of waiting, frightened families, and lots of blame-sharing, name-calling, and lawsuits.
God, he dreaded it.
Having no other clothes, he pulled on his mud-covered pants, trying to brush off what had dried into a powdery crust. Not bothering with his shirt, he went hunting for both a clock and a landline. Had his phone been working, he suspected it would be blowing up with messages this morning.
He found the kitchen and saw the time on the microwave, showing it was after ten. Derek frowned. He hadn’t slept this late in years. His phone wouldn’t just be blowing up if it were on, it would probably have been incinerated.
Spying a coffeemaker, and needing caffeine badly, he made himself a cup. He was about to grab a sugar bowl from a pantry shelf when he saw a new, unopened box of raw sugar. He’d had coffee with Kate before and knew she didn’t use it.
“Expected a frequent visitor, huh?” he said with a low chuckle.
Liking that she’d bought the sugar for him, and what that implied, Derek went looking for a working phone. Finding none in the kitchen, he wandered into her living room. It was neat, but pretty impersonal. That wasn’t surprising; she’d told him it was a furnished rental.
The only thing she’d done to make it her own was to place several framed pictures on a coffee table. Every one of them showed the smiling face of a teenage boy. Kate was in a few.
The siblings looked alike. They looked happy.
The pictures made him ache for her all over again.
“Keep sleeping, honey,” he mumbled, knowing the nightmare would really begin again once she opened her eyes. Not just the memory of what had happened last night, but, with the latest developments, she would almost certainly have to deal with her parents again. Considering they sounded like fucking assholes, he knew she wouldn’t look forward to it.
Having no luck with the phone, he thought of one more possible location. Kate had mentioned using the spare bedroom as a home office. Although he doubted she had a line in there but not the kitchen, he ducked into it anyway.
If there had been a bed in here, she’d had it removed. The small room was now filled with a put-together boxed desk like you’d get at an office supply store. A filing cabinet stood beside it. Computer and printer. No phone.
What really caught his eye were the things she’d hung up in here. There were no pictures of her brother. This room was all about Kate’s professional life.
“Holy shit,” he muttered when he saw the framed diplomas on the walls. NYU—a double major. Harvard Medical—Summa cum Laude. At least five awards of distinction. Framed photo of Kate giving a commencement speech. A plaque of appreciation from the U.S. Army. There was even a letter of commendation from the damned Surgeon General.
His mood, pretty good considering how they’d spent the previous evening, immediately darkened. Everything he’d known about Kate, but hadn’t really considered much, crashed in.
“What the hell am I doing here?”
For the past couple of weeks, he and Kate Lincoln had been on the same page. They’d had the same goal, shared the same strategies, and had worked in unison. Their focus on the investigation had made them complete equals.
Now the case was over. Real life was about to reclaim them. Reclaim her.
Jesus Christ, she was so out of his league.
“Hey,” a soft, sleepy voice murmured behind him.
He turned slowly, still rocked by the realization that they were as mismatched as a candle and a Cadillac.
“Good morning,” he said, hearing the stiffness in his tone but unable to help it.
Apparently not noticing, she smiled and stepped close, wrapping her arms around his waist. After a tiny hesitation, Derek relaxed, inhaled to catch her warm, sultry, morning-after-sex scent. He ran his fingers through her tangled hair, wanting to kiss her, wanting to carry her back to bed, but unable to think of anything except those degrees that filled a wall, while he hadn’t managed to bring home even one in his entire life.
She was a brilliant, educated, connected, wealthy doctor.
He was a dark, haunted, rough, often-angry high-school dropout.
This was going nowhere. No. Where. He might have fallen in love with her, but there was no way she would ever feel the same. How could she?
“How long have you been up?”
“Not long. I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to coffee. I was hunting for a landline—my phone’s dead.”
Nodding, she stepped away. “And mine’s buried in mud.” Walking over to her desk, she opened a drawer and pulled out another cell phone. “It’s a business one. I rarely use it, but you’re welcome to.”
“Believe me, I’d rather not. I don’t want to find out what’s going on out there this morning, but I know I have to.”
“Of course you do. While you do that, I’m going to take another shower.” She lifted a long strand of twisting, twirling, kinky hair. “There’s no way I’ll get a brush through this.”
Watching her go, Derek turned on the phone, glad it didn’t need to be charged. His first call was to the office. Julia picked up her private line immediately.
“It’s me,” he said.
“It’s about time! Where are you?”
Her voice was almost a screech. It woke up whatever few brain cells were still asleep in his head.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all morning!”
“Phone was dead.”
“Why the hell didn’t you charge it?”
His tone even, he said, “Because I didn’t have the charger.”
“Well why not?”
He blew out a hard breath. “Because I spent the night at Kate’s.”
Silence. Then, “Ahhh. Of course you did.”
Hearing the humor in her voice, and knowing she would eventually say, I told you so, he cut her off. “What’s going on?”
“Oh, just the usual. Calls from Gabe every twenty minutes asking where you are. Updates on how many state divers are out looking for bodies. National news descending.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Oh, and a half-dozen calls from Taylor Kirby, who has been trying to reach Kate. I guess she heard the news.”
“Kate lost her phone last night.”
“You sure you didn’t coordinate that no-phone plan?”
He wished. He also wished the plan had continued all day.
Talking fast, as always, Julie brought him up to speed on what else she knew. She concluded by saying, “Oh, Gabe asked me to tell you a boy named Eli has been looking for you.”
Eli. His young helper. Derek hadn’t thought much last night about how this was going to affect the students. Suspecting the term would end early, and the boys would be sent home, he hoped he got a chance to speak to Eli again. He owed the boy thanks. He also wanted to be sure Eli didn’t blame himself for what had happened to his teacher.
“The police also want to talk to you and Kate again.”
“I figured. We’ll head up there shortly.”
Finishing the call, Derek went looking for Kate, finding her drying her hair. The tangles were gone, the strands silky. His skin tingled as he thought about how it had felt spread all over his naked body last night.
He wondered if it ever would be again.
Probably not. Now that he’d been slapped in the face with how different they were, how impossible it would be for them to have any kind of future, he knew this would end soon.
Honestly, he’d like to stretch their time together out as long as he could. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman before in his life, and Derek liked the feeling. But, for that very same reason, he knew he couldn’t hold on too long, or too tightly.
He didn’t like losing. He didn’t always react well to it. So it was probably better to cut his losses and let her go now, rather than falling even harder as he waited for the inevitable.
She must have seen his expression in the mirror, because her voice was quietly concerned as she asked, “What’s wrong, Derek?”
He shrugged. Walking behind her, he grabbed the rest of his clothes.
“Talk to me.”
“Nothing. We need to get up to Fenton.”
She lowered her hair dryer, and her brush. Facing him, hugging a silky bathrobe around her body, she pierced him with a stare. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what changed between last night and this morning. Did you really think I didn’t notice your mood?”
He pulled his shirt on and tucked it in, then re-looped his belt.
Kate kicked his boots out of the way before he could bend down to get them. “Say it. Just say it. It’s not like I haven’t figured it out already.”
“You have, huh?”
Her chin went up. “You regret what happened between us.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t a good enough liar to convince her of that. “No, I don’t. It was great, and I’ll never forget it.”
Struggling to keep his expression impassive, he made himself shut up, watching as his words sunk in. The tiniest twitch of her mouth was the only indication that she’d gotten the message he had intentionally sent.
It was great. It was once. Now it’s over.
She blinked twice, stared hard, stood straight. But Kate said nothing. She didn’t get angry, didn’t shed a tear. Instead, with that calm, cool, Kate reserve, she nodded and walked into the bedroom.
Message received. Interlude over.
He wanted to punch a wall. Or himself.
They finished dressing in silence. That silence lasted throughout the ride to Fenton, right up until they pulled into the parking lot and saw the dozens of police, forensics, and medical examiner vehicles. Not unexpectedly, the first few news vans had arrived. As word spread, they’d almost certainly be joined by teams from national networks.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“I’ll ask Gabe to keep your name out of it as much as possible,” he said, knowing what worried her. The last thing a grieving family member needed was to deal with the press before they’d even buried a body. Not that it was likely Kate would have one to bury.
“Thank you.”
“Wait, let me come around and try to shield you from the cameras.”
Going to the passenger door, he saw she had twisted to grab an envelope off the back seat. “I meant to give you this last night, before things got so…strange.”
That was one word for it. “What is it?”
“It’s all the information Julia gathered for you, plus everything I was able to find out.” She shrugged. “I don’t suppose it matters much now, or that it will even be relevant to Slate. But maybe the police will find it useful.”
“Why don’t you hold on to it, then?” he suggested.
Though still aloof, Kate did allow him to take her hand and help her out of the car. She also let him shield her from view as they entered the school. But once they were inside, there wasn’t much he could do to serve as a barrier between her and the cops waiting to hear about every minute of last night.
A detective he didn’t know led Kate to one room. Derek was shown to another. They exchanged one long look during which they both asked questions and answered them, and then went to their separate interviews.
Fortunately, Gabe was the one who came in to talk to him. “About time.”
“Phone trouble.”
“Uh-huh.”
The questions were a repeat of last night’s, but, after some sleep and some thought, Derek was able to provide more detail. He explained why he’d been undercover at Fenton, and everything he’d found out. It didn’t take long.
“Okay, I guess that’s it for now,” Gabe said as he closed his folder and stood. “You know the drill. Don’t leave town and all that.”
“Sure.”
Before leaving the room, Gabe said, “Did Julia tell you about the kid askin’ for you?”
“Yes. I’m going to look for him as soon as we’re done here.”
“Be my guest. I think you’ll have some time—Kate’s not going to get through her chat quite as fast. She’s gonna have to go back six months and explain every step she’s taken since.”
Funny that Gabe assumed he would be waiting for Kate. Derek’s bike wasn’t too far away, he could hoof it over there and leave. Just go, with a clean, hard break.
There was no way he would actually do it.
As he’d sat here shifting with impatience, wondering how she was doing, he’d replayed their conversation from this morning. Damn, he’d really screwed the pooch. He’d let his anger and his disappointment get the better of him and had reacted without giving it enough thought.
His opinion hadn’t changed. She was way out of his league. But he definitely could have handled the situation better. Despite the fact that he’d done the right thing, he owed her a real explanation. Knowing how smart and level-headed she was, she’d see his point and come to the same realization.
It would still be clean, but it would be mutual. And she wouldn’t be left wondering.
Leaving the small guidance office the police had been using for some of their interviews, he wandered down the hall toward the administrative lounge. Last night, he’d held Kate in there while she slept. Today, she was having to reveal everything she’d gone through to strangers.
Knowing how smart she was, and how she was always able to retain her cool, Derek had no doubt she’d be able to handle it. She would come up with something to tell the detectives about how she’d known her brother hadn’t run away…something that didn’t include psychic communication. But he still wished he could be in there with her.
Since he had no way of knowing if she’d be another ten minutes or two hours, he decided to seek out Eli. “Hey, where are the freshman dorms?” he asked a passing teacher.
“Third floor. But most of the boys are gathered in the community rec hall on four.”
Before Derek even had a chance to thank the guy, he was gone, heading toward the health clinic. Derek had heard that, with his office full of Slate’s blood, Fenton was now using the nurse’s.
Finding Eli was easy—he was sitting on a couch in a large, common rec room that didn’t appear very recreational. Uncomfortable-looking couches lined the walls, with little padding and no pillows. There was no TV, no video games, no snack fridge. It was essentially just an empty room big enough to handle a group.
Three faculty members were watching over the quiet students. One was Angel, who offered a hard nod. The other was the assistant gym coach, Gardener. The third he hadn’t met, but knew her by reputation: The school nurse.
“There you are!” Eli had apparently been watching the door, because as soon as Derek entered, he was on his feet and at his side.
Derek didn’t know Eli well, but he knew fear and regret when he saw it. Extending his arms, he drew the boy in for a quick hug. “Sorry it took so long to get here.”
“It’s okay, I’m just glad you came.”
“If you are going to conduct a conversation,” said the nurse, “kindly do it outside of this room where you won’t disturb everyone else.”
Knowing they must still think he was a member of the faculty—otherwise he wouldn’t have been allowed to just waltz out of here with a student—Derek nodded and led Eli out into the hall. “Are you all right?”
Eli’s brown eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe Mr. Andrews is dead!”
“I know, I’m so sorry. I just got there too late.”
“They’re saying it was Mr. Slate. Is that true?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t get it. He was weird, but he wasn’t usually mean to us.”
“He obviously had some mental problems, Eli. We might never know why he did the things he did.”
Eli sniffed, and then wiped his nose with the sleeve of his stiff uniform shit. “And Charlie. He killed Charlie, too, didn’t he.”
Dropping a hand on the teen’s skinny shoulder, Derek said, “I don’t know. But I suspect he did. The police are doing a thorough search; hopefully they’ll find out the truth.”
“I figured.” He sniffed again. “I just can’t help thinking that if I’d gone with Mr. Andrews…”
“Don’t. Do not think that way.”
“But I was there when he got the note. I knew something was funky about it.”
Derek’s curiosity rose. “What note?”
“Somebody slid it under his door when I was talking to him in his room after dinner. I know he was supposed to meet you, but he didn’t say where. I think he thought you’d left the note to change the time and place.”
Derek swept a hand through his hair. “I didn’t. Damn it. We were supposed to meet in his classroom at 6:30. He wasn’t there when I showed up.”
Eli nodded. “He went up to the third floor showers, and then he went down to the loading dock doors in the back of the school by the caf.”
“How do you know?” He had a suspicion. A frightening one. “You followed him, didn’t you?”
Eli didn’t try to deny it. “I knew something was wrong with that note. I knew it. I thought if I kept an eye on him, he’d be safe, you know? But as I was following him on the first floor, I was tagged by a hall monitor. I had to go to detention.”
“Thank God for that,” he said, not even wanting to imagine where this boy might be now if he’d gone with Andrews to Building 13, which was where he suspected the teacher had been told to go. Suddenly thinking of something else the student had said, Derek asked, “Why did he go to the third floor showers? Do you know?”
Eli nodded and explained about the secret hiding place he’d shared with Charlie. Hearing it had interested Andrews. Now Derek was interested too.
“Do you think he found it?”
“I saw him go in, and it took a couple of minutes for him to come out. So yeah, I’m sure if Charlie left anything there, Mr. Andrews found it.”
“Was he carrying anything when he left?”
“Nope, not that I saw.”
Although the case had been solved, the murderer caught, Derek couldn’t help wondering about that stop Andrews had made. He’d thought it important enough to go before his meeting, and it was not along the way. That interested him.
“Eli, I think I should take a look in that hiding place.”
The boy looked surprised. “Don’t you think if something was there, Andrews would have taken it?”
“Probably. But maybe not.”
The young teacher hadn’t known who to trust, or what might happen. Derek thought about it, putting himself in the other man’s shoes. What would he do if he knew there was darkness in this school, and that someone might be trying to lure him into it?
Maybe he would have wanted to leave a clue. And maybe he would have left it in a secret place known only to a dead boy…and the living one he trusted.
As for what kind of clue, Derek couldn’t stop thinking about that note. Had Slate sent it? Had he signed Derek’s name? Why else would Andrews leave?
More importantly—since the police hadn’t mentioned finding a note in Andrews’ bloody clothes, or in his desk—where was it?
“I want to see this hiding place of yours,” Derek said.
“Right now?”
He looked at Eli and recognized his need to do something. The boy was going to carry his guilt for a long time, no matter what anybody said. The least he deserved was the chance to feel like he’d done something about it.
“Right now. Let’s go see if Mr. Andrews left anything for us to find in that hiding place.”