"As I told Miss Adler," Solliday said in the same ominous tone, "we have two women in the morgue. Our patience is thin. If your student is not involved, we'll be on our way. If he is, he's a danger to the rest of your students. You don't want that kind of publicity."
A muscle in Bixby's jaw twitched and Mia knew Solliday had hit the right chord. "The student does not leave this facility. There is no way he could be involved."
"All right," Mia said, relaxing. "Tell us about the facility. Do all students live here?"
"Twenty percent are day students," Dr. Thompson said. "The rest are residential."
Mia smiled. "Residential. That means they're locked up?"
Thompson's returned smile was strained. "It means they can't leave. They are not locked in cells as they would be in a jail, no."
Mia widened her eyes. "You never let them outside?" She blinked. "Ever?"
Bixby's eyes flashed. "Residential students are given supervised time outdoors."
"The exercise yard," Mia said and Bixby's cheeks burned. Mia held up her hand. "I know, this isn't a jail. But your neighbors wouldn't be happy to know that a possible murderer was right here, less than a mile from their homes. From their children."
"Because there isn't," Bixby said tightly. "I've told you already."
"And we heard you the first time," Solliday said mildly. He looked over at Mia, one dark brow lifted. "You know you did promise Carmichael she'd be the first to know."
She beamed at him, in perfect accord. "Yes, I did."
Secrest leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "That's extortion."
"Who is Carmichael?" Bixby asked.
"The reporter who wrote the article in yesterday's Bulletin," Secrest said.
Thompson's mouth fell open. "You can't give false information."
Mia shrugged. "She asks me where I've been. I'll tell her I've been here. No lie. Sometimes she even follows me around, looking for news. She might be outside your gates as we speak. I guess as publicity goes, that would suck. The whole not-in-my-backyard thing and all." She stared Bixby down. "And your total lack of cooperation will affect your standing with the state. I'll see that it does."
Bixby looked ready to explode. He hit a button on the intercom. "Marcy, pull Manuel Rodriguez's file." He jabbed the button. "I hope you're satisfied."
"I hope I am, too," Mia said with all sincerity. "So do the families of my two victims."
Thompson's face had gone florid. "Manny's an innocent young man."
Mia lifted her brows. "He's here, Dr. Thompson. He's obviously not that innocent."
"He didn't set these fires," Thompson insisted.
"You searched Manny's room, Mr. Secrest?" Solliday asked, ignoring the counselor.
"I did." Secrest's eyes were like stone.
Mia lifted her brows. "And?"
"And I found a book of matches."
"Were any missing?" Solliday pressed. "And to save us time, if yes, how many?"
"Several. But the matchbook had been used by someone else."
She noticed a twitch in Thompson's cheek. "Do you know where he got them?" she asked. From the corner of her eye she saw Secrest roll his eyes.
"He took them from Dr. Thompson's office," Secrest said. "He smokes a pipe."
Mia leaned back in her chair. "Bring Mr. Rodriguez to us, please." Everyone stood. "Miss Adler, please remain." She looked at Bixby. "Alone."
When the doors were closed, Mia turned to Adler who was pale. "Now tell us why you went to Penny Hill's house."
She licked her lips. "I told you. I was curious. Because of the articles."
Solliday shook his head. "No. We saw you, Miss Adler, on the video. You didn't look curious. You looked like you felt guilty."
"It was the book." In her eyes Mia saw pure, unadulterated misery. "I assigned Lord of the Flies right before Thanksgiving. Right before the first fire." She pursed her lips hard. "Right before the first woman was killed."
"Interesting timing," Solliday murmured. "Still, why go to the victim's house?"
"I needed to know what the police knew. To know if I'd done… caused…"
Mia frowned at Solliday. "I'm missing the connection to the book," she murmured.
"Lord of the Flies," he murmured back. "Teens stranded on an island without adults descend into anarchy. They have a signal fire. Later they burn most of the island down."
"Oh. Dots connected." Mia turned her attention back to Adler who sat quietly, tears running down her face. "Was that really a good choice of a book here?"
"Dr. Bixby approved it, encouraged it even. He wanted to observe the students' reactions. I offered to assign a different one, but Julian said it would be useful in Manny's therapy." She struggled for control. "All I could think was 'What if I caused him to do this? What if my book gave him the idea?' And then there was another fire and another woman died. What if those women are dead because I got him started?"
Solliday sighed. "If Manny did this, you are not responsible, Miss Adler."
"I'll believe you when you find out who really did it. Can I go now?"
"Sure," Mia said, more inclined to be gentle now. "Don't leave town, okay?"
Adler's smile was thin and bitter. "Somehow I thought you'd say that." She shut the door hard, leaving Mia and Solliday sitting side by side. Solliday looked around the ceiling and the walls, then abruptly bent close to Mia's ear.
"This could be a wild-goose chase," he murmured. "A waste of time."
A shiver raced down her back, unexpected and hard as his heat warmed her and the scent of him filled her head. Unbidden, her body tightened, as the memory of him lying on top of her shoved at her logical thought. She made herself focus and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "Maybe. But we're here. Other than boxes of files, this is all we have. Cops, social workers, angry kids… And these guys are hiding something. I've got a feeling about all this." And that, she told herself, would be cop instinct and not the fact that her cheek still tingled from where his beard had brushed against her skin.
The door opened and Bixby appeared. "Manny is being brought up front. I will stay with him through your questioning as he is a minor. Is there anything else you require?"
Solliday stood up. "We'd like to search the boy's room ourselves."
Bixby nodded stiffly. "As you wish."
Mia's lips curved. "Your… cooperation is noted, Dr. Bixby. Keep Manny here while we do our search. We'll come back to talk to him when we're ready."
Wednesday, November 29, 2:45 p.m.
Reed stifled a sigh as Bixby led Manny Rodriguez from the room. A search of his room had turned up nothing and Manny was as closed as any youth he'd ever met. "If he did it, he's not giving anything up. But I don't think he did. I think we just wasted an afternoon chasing an English teacher with an overdeveloped sense of guilt."
"Win some, lose some." Mia shrugged into that godawful coat. It looked worse from the slide on the pavement she'd taken last night. "Let's go back and hit the files."
Reed held the door, then followed her to the front desk where a grim-faced Marcy was ready to sign them out. He walked by the front display cases, then stopped when something shiny caught his eye. He backed up a few steps and stared, his pulse picking up a few beats. "Mia, look at this."
She stared at the students' displayed art. "Interesting painting," she said, her eyes taking in the row at her eye level. It was dark with a hint of insanity.