Will cocked a brow, his sympathetic eyes going immediately sultry. “Scouts, huh? Still have that uniform?”
“You’re disgusting. And I was just going over Alyssa’s and Cathy’s files.”
“That’s what you needed to do so early this morning? Love, you know we’re partners, right? This isn’t a competition. We’re supposed to share information.”
I took a big swig of coffee and held up my hand, stop-sign style. “Don’t worry. If this were a competition, we’d both be losing. Big, fat losers.”
“Speak for yourself.”
I snapped my fingers. “Hey, what are you doing after work school today?”
Will grinned. “I think I’m about to get an invite to the ice cream store.”
I rolled my eyes. “No. You’re getting an invite to go to Alyssa’s house with me. And to Cathy’s.”
“Haven’t the police already done that?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “Yeah, but maybe there is something we can see that they didn’t. You know, maybe take an Underworld kind of look at some overworld kind of evidence.”
It sounded good and supernaturally detective-like when I said it out loud, even though I really had no idea what Will and I could possibly find that the entire SFPD couldn’t—magically veiled or otherwise.
I just knew we had to do more.
Will looked over my shoulder and poked Cathy’s picture. “Isn’t that like the pin that we found?”
I pulled the photo closer to me. There was a little lock-shaped pin—key and all—attached to Cathy’s collar. “Lock and Key pin.”
Will sipped his coffee. “Coincidence?”
“Probably. It’s a big club. Everyone wants to be in it.” I brushed my fingertips over the photo of the pin. “All the popular girls already are.”
“So, our two girls were in the same club. Maybe we should figure out who else is in the club.”
I closed Cathy’s file and sighed. “Why bother? It’s an academic club. People aren’t killing to get in. And we already know the girls knew each other—they went to school together and it’s a small school. Everyone knows everyone. I just think we might be wasting our time.”
“You don’t think it’s worth our time?”
I stomped my foot, getting frustrated. “I feel like we’re not doing enough to help Alyssa. Actually, we’re not doing anything! At least the police are out there actually looking for her. I’m teaching a bunch of over-privileged stuffed bras about things they’ll never care about.”
“Seriously, love. Move on. High school is over. And how do you know what the police are doing? Talk to Alex?”
It was nearly imperceptible, but something flashed in Will’s eyes when he said Alex’s name. Something that clearly indicated how much he loathed him.
“No. Sampson told me.” I didn’t want to tell Will about Alex and my last conversation. About the fact that I had speed-dialed Alex twice since and twice gotten his voice mail. I was thrilled to see he called me back while I was in the shower, then crushed to hear his sterile, “I’ll come out and pick up the uniform if you can’t drop it by.” No hello, no good-bye, just a click at the end of the message.
“And he said someone is coming by today to pick up the clothes we found in the Dumpster.”
Will picked up the plastic bag, giving the uniform a cursory look before he laid it on my desk just as the first morning bell rang. He stepped into the hallway and I heard the first chirps of adoring greetings from the girls.
“Good morning Mr. Sherman.”
“Hi, Mr. Sherman.”
“Oh my God, is that a Mercy uniform?”
My eyes widened as Fallon appeared in the doorway, then made a beeline for my desk, snatching up the bags.
“It’s all burnt. Where—oh my God—is this what was on fire in the Dumpster? Is it Alyssa’s?”
I leaned a hip against the desk, crossed my arms in front of my chest. “What would make you think this belongs to Alyssa?”
Fallon suddenly seemed to realize that it was me, the repugnant substitute teacher, in her presence. She looked up, narrowed her eyes, and held her lips in something akin to a smile—or a sneer.
“Because Alyssa always wrote on her shoes.” She held the bagged sneaker out toward me; I snatched it out of her hand.
“Were you good friends with Alyssa?”
Fallon matched my stance, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She kicked out a hip. “Am I a suspect or something?”
I shrugged, trying desperately to maintain my cool. “It was just a question.”
Fallon shrugged back. “We knew each other.”
“Is there a reason you’re sitting in Alyssa’s desk all of the sudden?”
Fallon seemed taken aback for a short second. Then she blinked, iceberg coolness floating over her once again. “I just sat down in an empty seat.”
The second bell rang and Fallon cocked her head, listening until it ended. “This was fun. I’ll see you in sixth.” She gave me a little finger wave and flipped on her heel, her skirt and her thick black ponytail swaying behind her.