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BACK AT MARSTON HIGH School in the auditorium, Linsey’s speech was done. The audience layered with students, parents, and teachers engaged in colloquy that had the sound of bees buzzing around a honeycomb. Voices hung in the air. The clamor of seats banging wooden backs sounded as their occupants rose. The rustle of backpacks being swung over shoulders, and shoes moving through the aisles added to the cacophony inside the auditorium.
Linsey was passing out business cards. “If you need me, I’m just ten numbers away.” That’s what she said as she shuffled a card into each hand that passed her. Rose was at the exit of the row now. She held out her hand like a beggar on a corner for the speaker to deal her a card. Linsey placed the card in the girl’s hand and held it there. The detectives watched as Linsey placed her lips close to Rose’s ear. Just for a second.
To Romero, Copeland asked, “What do you suppose she said?”
“The sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,” Romero replied.
“Inflation. I think it’s now referred to as the million-dollar question.”
The detectives continued to watch as the speaker held conversations with the students and parents as they passed by her. Jonas stopped to receive his card. Linsey had a special one for him. She took it from the bottom of the deck like a cheating dealer and placed it in his open palm. “Put this in your pocket so it doesn’t get misplaced. Read it closely later. It’s a very important card,” she whispered.
Jonas peered at her blankly. She motioned with her eyes toward his pants pocket. The message took a few seconds to reach Jonas, but when it hit home, he received it loud and clear. He put the card in his pocket as naturally as if sliding in loose change or a wallet.
The detectives were still standing vigil in the rear. “Cope, did you see that?”
“Yes indeed. Something stinks in the kitchen.”
There were just a few stragglers left behind. The two detectives ambled from their stakeout position to the front of the auditorium where Linsey was bent down to gather her belongings.
“Miss Logan,” Romero said. He was standing next to Copeland, feet apart, right hand resting leisurely on his gun butt, left hand rescuing the toothpick and tossing it into the corner trash bin.
Linsey looked over her shoulder. “Detective,” she said in a mild voice as she stood, “I remember you from court.”
“You’ve got one hell of a memory,” Romero said.
“It rarely fails me. What can I do for the police department?”
“We heard about the event and thought we would drop in. Maybe get some tips.” Copeland was wearing a smile.
Romero slid a fresh toothpick from his breast pocket. “Do you know the coach?”
Linsey cocked her head to the side. “No, I can’t say that I do. Why do you ask?”
The toothpick had found its way to Romero’s lips. “Just wondering why you were in court every day.” His question was smooth and as deceiving as rain on a sunny day.
Linsey stood up. “Well, let’s see.” She looked toward the ceiling, foot tapping the floor, finger tapping her chin. “I’m a Sexual Assault Forensics Nurse. I give expert testimony in cases dealing with sex crimes.”
“Were you supposed to testify in the case? Is that what brought you here?” asked Copeland.
“No, I wasn’t. The case interested me. Sometimes, I sit in on cases just to keep my courtroom skills polished.” She eyed Copeland. “Is that a crime, Detective?”
“No, ma'am.” Copeland squared her shoulders. “What’s your interest in the two students you singled out?”
“Who,” Linsey asked with an expression of confusion.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Sally Home Maker.”
Romero eased his hand on Copeland’s shoulder. “We just noticed you whispering in the girl’s ear,” Romero said in a friendly tone. “Care to share what you said to her?”
Linsey was done with this conversation. She rolled her eyes in disgust and shook her head. “If you must know, I told her I ran a support group for young girls, and she could call me whenever she felt she needed to.” She bent down, zipped her bag, and hefted it to her shoulder. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m done answering questions.” She began to walk away.
“Just one more,” Romero said to her back. “What about the boy?”
Linsey threw a glare over her shoulder and continued walking.
“Testy little thing,” Copeland noted.
“No. I think I would call it spunk,” said Romero admiring her retreating back.