“This way.”
We walked back to the classrooms and he led the way to the end of a hall.
“Anything I should know about Peter?” he asked, just as we got to the right classroom.
I knocked on the window. Lund looked up from his computer and froze a bit. I pointed at him and then at my feet. Get your ass out here.
“A lot of things you should probably know about him.” We both watched him fumble around and say something to the students. “I’m only interested in one.”
Peter came out and glanced between the two of us. “Sheriff. Do you have more information about Hattie?”
“Matter of fact. Need you to come down to the station.”
“Can’t it wait until the end of the day? I’ve got classes.” He waved behind him, looking at the principal, who was eyeing him like he was trying to picture the knife in Lund’s hand.
“We’ll take care of the kids,” the principal said. “Go get your stuff.”
Lund did as he was told and we headed out to the cruiser. I let him ride in front.
“What’s your take on this curse nonsense?” I asked as we pulled out of the parking lot. I could sense his whole body relaxing as he heard the question.
“Bullshit.”
I laughed once and he eased up a bit more.
“The legend part of it, anyway, is a load of superstitious paranoia. The real curse is dealing with actors—or in my case, kids—who believe in the bullshit and make the director’s life a living hell. You saw how Portia Nguyen got everybody scared on Sunday?”
I nodded.
“She’s been like that the whole play, feeding this curse crap to anyone who’ll listen.”
“Did Hattie listen? She and Portia were mighty close.”
“No.” His voice quieted down. “No, Hattie was one of the only ones who didn’t buy it. She . . . she was different from most teenagers. She understood the space between reality and illusion.”
He started to say something else and then seemed to think better of it.
When we pulled up to the station I had Jake take him into the back while I got a cup of coffee and waited for it to cool. Two news vans drove by the front window and I could hear Brian bugging Nancy out on the sidewalk to set up another press conference. I took a drink and headed to the interrogation room.
Jake, who was playing bodyguard by the door, handed me a folder when I walked in. Lund looked a lot more uncomfortable than he had a few minutes ago. I sat down and flipped the folder open, reading the emails and sipping my coffee. After a moment, Lund leaned in and saw enough to drop his head into his hands.
“So, LitGeek, huh?” I tapped the name on one of the pages.
“God. I . . . I didn’t know who she was. It was all anonymous.”
“Anonymous, like strangers?”
“Yes.” He lifted his head while I kept drinking and flipping pages. “Yes, exactly.”
I picked up a paper and leaned back until I could read it clearly. “?‘I’m running my hand up the inside of your thigh and into the crease of your leg. My fingers are a whisper on your skin, a suggestion you can’t ignore.’?”
Jake snickered. I read the crap same as I’d read my breakfast order at Sally’s. I glanced up at Lund. He’d gone beet-red.
“You make . . . suggestions like that . . . to complete strangers?”
“No, I knew her. I mean, I didn’t know her identity but I knew who she was, I thought. We’d been chatting for weeks. We’d become close.”
“Mmm-hmm. Appears that way.”
“What did she print? God, did she just print the sex stuff? As soon as I found out who she was, I ended it. I mean immediately. Doesn’t she have that in there, too?”
He’d worked himself into a pretty good sweat and tried to see what I was reading. Jake was trying for all the world to look tough and disinterested again after the snicker.
“Matter of fact, she does.”
He heaved a sigh out, deflating like a balloon. “So you can see. It was over. It was nothing.”
“Don’t suspect your wife would think this was nothing. Don’t suspect Hattie did. She seemed pretty bent on you here.” I shook my head. “For some reason.”
“Hattie did try to talk to me after we realized . . . the situation. I even met with her once, to end it face-to-face, because she wanted to . . . to continue the relationship.”
“And you weren’t the least bit tempted? Pretty, young girl like that. Smart, just like you. Liked all those books and big cities.”
“No. No.” He shook his head, looking between me and Jake. “She was a student, a . . . a child. I could have gone to jail, for Christ’s sake. Not to mention losing my job and my marriage.”