“That was one tough room.” He dumps his stuff on the floor behind his chair and kicks it into the corner. I note how this is more like my behavior than Rachel’s. Victor rummages in the refrigerator and comes up with a soda.
“Trust me,” he says, joining me at the table. “If you took every piece of evidence that went down in flames after I swore to it in front of a jury … and then added every shred of data that I was convinced would reveal some important secret, but didn’t … if you rolled all of those disasters together, the resulting humiliation wouldn’t come close to what it felt like to stand in front of that classroom today.” He leans back, tipping the chair on two legs.
“I wanted to help you out, but…”
He stretches his arms up over his head. “It wasn’t your job, it was mine, and I royally sucked.” He tips his head toward Rachel’s room. “Is she over her snit yet?”
I shrug. “More or less.”
“Can you believe she’s dating Chuck Culson? I mean, c’mon. Rachel still looks great … and he’s…”
Victor presses his fingers to his face and pulls the skin down to resemble a melted mask. He stops when he hears Rachel coming. She steps into the kitchen and nearly takes my breath away. She has makeup on and her hair flows around her shoulders. She looks gorgeous. She’s even wearing perfume. She frowns at Victor.
“I need you to be nice tonight, and if you can’t, you need to leave. It’s that simple.”
Victor throws his hands in the air. “I’ll be nice. You didn’t even have to ask.”
Just then the front doorbell rings. All three of us stiffen. Rachel hurries to answer it. Victor and I listen as she invites Chief Culson inside. Victor grimaces when he hears them kiss. I have to fight back a giggle. As they enter the kitchen, Victor pops out of his chair and offers his hand.
“Hey, Chuck. Good to see you again so soon.”
The chief is holding a garment bag in one hand and a pair of wing tips in the other. He shrugs helplessly, unable to return Victor’s handshake. He’s dressed casually in sweats.
“Oh yeah, hey, no handshake, no sweat,” Victor says, withdrawing his hand. “But then, you look like you just came from the gym, so maybe there is sweat.” Rachel and the chief just stand there as Victor cracks himself up.
He looks at me. “Get it—no sweat … sweat?”
I don’t want to take obvious sides here, but I can’t just let Victor hang. I offer up my palm. “Got it. High-five.”
The chief mumbles something lame to me about homework. I smile and agree. Then he asks for a glass of water so I get up and get him one. With that, Rachel leads him off to her room. She pauses at the door. “He’s going to take a quick shower and then we’ll be out of your hair for the night.”
“Roger that,” I say, and return to my homework.
*
When Rachel and the chief return to the kitchen about thirty minutes later, they shine. And not just because of their dressy clothes. They seem really happy, especially Rachel.
Victor stands, sliding his hands into his pockets. “You look beautiful, sis.”
“She does, doesn’t she?” the chief says as he crosses the kitchen and sets his water glass on the counter next to the sink. “Don’t wait up for us. We’ll be late.”
As they leave through the back door, I’m watching Victor. He stays quiet and tilts his head, listening for their car to leave. As soon as they’re gone, he leaps up and claps his hands together. “Okay, let’s get to work.”
I let the surprise register on my face.
He stops. “Wait. What am I thinking? First, where do you stand with your homework?”
“Done.”
“Good. When I planned this I thought we’d have to work up in your attic, but since they’re gone, we can work down here.”
I blink a few times. “Work?”
“Yeah. What are you waiting for? Grab that evidence box and let’s get busy.”
“Which one?” I ask.
“The bio teacher.”
My heart pounds as I race up the stairs toward my attic. It sounds like it’s going to be an interesting night. By the time I return with the shoe box containing all of the evidence I’ve gathered about Miss Peters’s murder, Victor has cleared the table. He rummages in his briefcase and pulls out a handful of buccal swabs. “Know what these are?” he asks.
“Elephant Q-tips,” I say, adding a sassy grin so he’ll know I’m kidding.
He holds a giant lollipop-sized Q-tip up next to his ear and makes a funny creaking noise.
“Buccal swabs. All the forensic TV shows use them for getting DNA samples from inside someone’s mouth. Miss P even had some,” I say.
“Correct,” Victor cheers. “So, do you have any idea what I have in mind, Erin?”
“Something to do with DNA would be my guess.”
“That’s my star pupil.” He snaps his fingers at me. “Where’s your notebook with the DNA results from Miss Peters’s computer?”
His urgency prods me into action. I grab my notebook and flip to the correct page before handing it over to him.
Victor points. “We’ll need pizza, extra cheese and any toppings you like. You call it in and I’ll pay for it. Then I’ll give you the full rundown of our agenda for the evening.”