‘You’re leaving?’ Greg was unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
‘Errands,’ Emily Pasquarelli explained. ‘I need to pick up my mother’s meds and go grocery shopping.’ She was standing at her cubicle, her beautiful red coat halfway buttoned, scarf stylishly wrapped around her neck. ‘You need something?’
‘It can wait.’ Greg wasn’t entirely sure that it could, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere by pushing.
‘No, no, it’s OK. For you, anything.’ She smiled at him coquettishly, eyes bright, flicking across his face with that incredibly focused look that women have when they like someone. The effect was distracting. Not for the first time, Greg thought about asking her out. She was pretty, bright, the right age, and someone even his mother might approve of, given the chance. It took him a moment to get back on track.
‘I’m being a bit self-indulgent,’ he confessed. ‘It’s this bloody murder. I can’t get it out of my head.’
‘Me, neither.’ Emily looked incredibly sad. ‘So … horrible. And such a waste.’
Greg smiled ironically.
‘You know, “waste” is possibly the nicest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say about Lindsay Delcade.’
‘Maybe because I’m the only one at this school who actually liked her.’
Greg looked at her, surprised.
‘It’s true. She could be a piece of work, but we were friends. Have been for years.’ Emily was looking teary now. ‘We were at high school together. She was Lindsay Harris, then. Very popular. Everyone wanted to be her. Or near her, at least. I was one of her little … clique, I guess. We lost touch after graduation, but reconnected when Lindsay came back to town and married Bryan.’
‘I get the distinct impression,’ Greg said, only half joking, ‘that Pittsburghers never come “back” to town. That would require them to leave in the first place – and they love it here.’
Emily smiled at that.
‘Well, Lindsay definitely went away to college. Penn, actually: she was valedictorian of our high school class. Super bright. Then she was at Georgetown Law—’
‘She was a lawyer?’
‘Oh, yes. But not for long. Practiced at one of those big political law firms in DC for a couple of years, met Bryan, and came back here to start a family. The rest, as they say, is history. Or it was history until …’ She was too choked up to go on. She sat back down and grabbed a box of tissues from a desk drawer.
Greg pulled up a chair next to her, reached out and held her by the hand.
‘I’m so sorry, Emily. I didn’t mean to drag this all up for you. I had no idea the two of you were so close.’
‘It’s OK.’ Emily sniffled. And then, with an effort: ‘You wanted a favor?’
‘Yes. But only if it’s not too much trouble. Really.’ He gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. ‘Stacey, the security lady, tells me you’re the one to talk to about looking at footage from the security cameras?’
Emily gave him a sharp look.
‘Why?’
‘Honestly? I can’t think of a single good reason why Lindsay Delcade would have been all the way down in the custodian’s room. I mean, it’s not even a place the faculty go to, is it?’
‘You do,’ Emily said pointedly.
Greg grinned.
‘Guilty. But then, I’m super nosy.’
‘You are at that.’ A little squeeze of his hand made sure the words lacked sting.
‘And being super nosy, I was also wondering what she was doing here so late at night, after the school was closed.’
‘How do you know she wasn’t here earlier? God love her, she was always hanging around for one reason or other.’
Greg shook his head in rueful remembrance.
‘And don’t I know it. But the thing is, when I was interviewed by the police—’
‘Wasn’t that just awful? Keeping us cooped up here like that? It was like we were all under arrest. And the interview was even worse. That nasty-minded lieutenant asked me what I was doing that evening and then, when I told him, he acted like he didn’t believe a word.’
‘And what were you doing, Ms Pasquarelli? I do hope it was something scandalous.’
Emily giggled.
‘I wish. The boring truth is that I was home with my mother. She was having one of her episodes. And now her doctor wants her to try a new prescription. Which is why I’m off to the pharmacist’s.’
Greg made one of those wordless noises that exuded sympathy.
‘I’m sorry to hear that. Your mother is lucky to have you.’
‘Thank you.’ Emily shrugged, as if to say any daughter would do the same.
‘But here’s the thing. Did the police ask you where you were all evening or only between seven p.m. and midnight?’
‘Seven and midnight.’
‘Which means that’s when Lindsay was killed. Lindsay had no reason to be in the building at that time, never mind the custodian’s room.’
Emily looked thoughtful.
‘I guess. And is that why you want to see the video recordings?’
‘Exactly. I’m hoping to see her entering the building. Maybe she came with someone, or around the same time as someone. It might help the police figure out who the killer is.’
‘You don’t think it’s Maybelline?’
‘Hand on heart? I don’t know. It could be. She was certainly in the custodian’s room on Monday night. But if it isn’t, the answer might be on the tapes.’
Emily nodded sagely.
‘That would explain why the police wanted the recordings.’
‘You gave them to the police?’
‘For sure. Monday through Tuesday morning. The woman detective asked to see them.’
‘Great minds think alike.’
‘Apparently. Though I’m told that fools seldom differ.’ Emily shot him a regretful smile. ‘I’m sorry, Greg. The file I sent the detective is on my computer, but I can’t let you have it. It’s super confidential. Privacy and all that good stuff.’ The smile turned arch. ‘Besides, I’m saving you from yourself. What if Ms Ellis found out? Or a parent? I think you’ve been in enough trouble for one week, don’t you?’
Greg was careful to mask his disappointment.
‘Thanks for looking out for me. Curiosity would undoubtedly get me killed otherwise.’
Emily chuckled at that.
‘But while I’m here,’ Greg went on, looking serious. ‘Could you let me have Chandler Delcade’s schedule for next week? I’m trying to figure out what to do with him.’
Emily’s mouth tightened.
‘That little … I am so sorry about what happened. You must be …’
‘It’s nothing. Well, it’s not nothing obviously, but I’d rather not make too much of a fuss, if you don’t mind. I just want to punish him and move on.’
‘I don’t understand how you’re so calm about it. And merciful. Too merciful, if you ask me. That boy should be expelled.’
‘Way too much paperwork. Besides, he’s just a kid.’
‘Like I said: too merciful. But if getting his schedule will help you stick it to him, even a little, I’m all for it. Just give me a moment here while this thing wakes up.’ Emily’s face glowed angelically in the light of the startup screen.
‘Thanks, Emily. You really are the best.’ Greg leaned a little closer in his chair, admiring Emily’s hands as they swept across the keyboard. Delicate strands of strawberry blonde hair brushed against his cheek, accompanied by a faint hint of perfume.
‘No problem. Like I said: for you, anything.’ With a few deft clicks the office printer began to purr. Emily stood up once more. ‘But I really should get on with those errands.’
‘Of course,’ Greg said. But he lingered a little, admiring Emily’s slim, boyish figure as she buttoned up her coat and readjusted her scarf. She gave a mock shiver.
‘What a miserable day,’ she said. ‘I can’t stand having cold hands. I’ll be lucky if I make it home alive.’
‘If you don’t make it, I, for one, will miss you.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
Emily started to head out, so Greg offered to walk her to her car. She happily took him up on it.