Zach and Ronan pulled in the drive of the Elmhurst Academy early the following day. They needed to talk to the head of the school. Shauna was up north in her office for the morning, catching up on what her team had been doing and getting them caught up on the New Haven side of the investigation.

Zach wished she were down here. He was getting far too used to seeing her each day.

“So,” Ronan said as Zach navigated up the long drive. “You gonna tell me what’s with you and Shauna? Is there history there or future?”

Zach didn’t answer. He looked out over the campus, thinking it looked different than their first visit. The kids weren’t as relaxed. They still walked in groups to and from the various buildings, but there was a tension vibrating in the air that hadn’t been there earlier.

“Cuz even an idiot can see there’s something there.”

Zach looked to Ronan as he pulled into one of the empty spots in front of the building that housed the head of school’s office. “We have history. Before I was a cop.”

If Ronan was bothered by the fact Zach hadn’t told him, or that he didn’t seem inclined to share more now, he didn’t say so. They walked up the stairs and into the office, asking Carville’s receptionist if he was in. After a brief conversation on the phone, she showed them into the office.

The man didn’t look good. He seemed to have aged in the days since they’d last seen him.

“Gentlemen? Do you have news?” Carville gestured at the small conference table and sat when they did.

“I’m afraid it’s questions that brought us here, not news,” Ronan answered.

Zach jumped right in. “Why didn’t you tell us you were new to the school, Mr. Carville?”

The man’s brows went up. “Well, I’m not that new. It’s been almost nine months.”

“Just under eight months would be more accurate,” Zach said.

Carville ran his hand over the smooth surface of the table in a nervous gesture Zach hadn’t noticed the last time they spoke with him.

“You see a therapist, Mr. Carville?”

This brought the man’s head back up, froze his hand on the table top, but only briefly. He resumed the gesture as he answered. “What does that have to do with any of this? It’s a good measure for any head of school or dean to take on. Somewhat like a psychiatrist, I’ve always thought.”

“How’s that?” Ronan asked.

“Well, I see it as part of the job. It allows me to do my job better if I have an outlet, someone to talk to, bounce things off where there’s a confidential relationship. It’s just like any good psychiatrist should have a therapist of their own, to help them handle things. It’s the same way with my therapist.”

“So it’s a purely professional necessity, not anything related to your personal life?”

“Sure, sure. If you want to say it that way.” Carville raised his hand in a take it as you will gesture.

“I’m not interested in how I’d say it. I want to know how you would,” Zach said.

When Carville didn’t expand on that, Zach moved on. “You left your last school when a girl made some accusations against you.” Zach glanced at his notes on his phone, though it was only for show. “When she said you made advances toward her. You hinted she could improve her grades if she agreed to perform certain favors.”

Carville sat up, hands pressed to the table. “She was a very troubled girl. There was a finding of no wrongdoing.”

“You left the school anyway?” Zach pressed, his tone letting Carville know he wasn’t convinced.

“Yes. I came here to work with an easier pool of kids. That school was the kind of place parents sent kids who were on their last chance to turn things around. It was a hard place to feel like you were making any progress, even if the stats showed you were. It was a constant struggle.”

Zach leaned in, his eyes dark and hard. He knew he could intimidate, especially with someone like Carville who just screamed soft. “I think you tried to fuck her. I think you used your position and got away with it there. It probably worked for you for a while, but things started to fall apart. You got frustrated. You came here thinking you could carry on what you were doing, but the girls didn’t cooperate here. You got angry and you lashed out.”

Carville paled and Zach could see the man was shaking. “How dare you? How—”

“You have a student group you run personally here, right?” Zach threw the question out. He wanted the man off balance and he had him close. “Future Leaders Something or Other.”

“Yes, yes. Future Leaders and Innovators. It’s a wonderful group. The students in it are chosen for their ability to lead.”

“Jonathan Sawyer was in that?” Ronan asked this, looking up from where he’d been taking notes on his phone.

“Yes,” Carville said, wariness evident, as though he didn’t trust where they were headed.

“Were any of the victims in the group?”

Carville’s mouth pinched, like he’d just tasted something sour. “Both of them.” He was quiet, his jaw tense.

Zach raised his brows and Ronan let out a low whistle.

Carville went back to rubbing the tabletop.

Zach pushed a notepad toward the man. “Write down the names of all the people in that group.”

When Carville had done that, Zach instructed him to write down his whereabouts for the times the girls went missing and the time of the murders, including anyone who could verify that information. It was time for them to check the alibis of Andrew Carville.

––––––––