She turned to Mrs. Dougherty. "It appears the prodigal cat has been found. Whoa," she said as Mrs. Dougherty ran up, hope in her eyes. "For now, this cat is evidence."

"Excuse me?" the Doughertys said together.

Solliday just scowled and kept the cat as far away from his trenchcoat as he could.

Mia sobered. "Whoever did this must have let him out or Percy slipped out when he was breaking in or leaving. We'll take him in, give him a bath and check him out. We might be lucky and get some physical evidence. If not, we'll return him to you quickly."

"He's probably hungry," Mrs. Doughtery said, biting her lip.

"We'll feed him." Mia's lips twitched. "Won't we, Lieutenant?"

Solliday's eyes narrowed in a way that promised retribution. "Sure." He held out a padded album that had also once been white. "Your wedding pictures have a good bit of water damage, but a restorer might be able to salvage some of them."

Mrs. Dougherty let out a shuddering breath. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Solliday's scowl softened. "It's okay. See if you can find a box for Percy. I don't want him making a mess in my truck."

Tuesday, November 28, 9:25 a.m.

Thad Lewin was back. Brooke leaned against her desk as she watched the students take their places. Mike pulled his chair to the back, Jeff lounged and Manny said nothing at all. But it was Thad she watched. The boy was normally shy, but today was different. Today his head was down, his steps shuffling. He lowered himself to his chair, tenderly. Brooke blinked, not liking the picture that was beginning to form in her mind. She glanced at Jeff who lifted one side of his mouth in a cruel amusement that made her blood go cold.

"Mornin", Teacher," he drawled. "Looks like the gang's all here."

She didn't drop her gaze, challenging him silently until his eyes slid down to her breasts. God help us when he gets out.

It was a common phrase uttered by every teacher, male and female. She thought about what Devin said last night, that Jeff would reoffend and be back in jail within a month of leaving this place.

She didn't want to be on the receiving end of that offense. "Open your books," she said. "Today we're going to talk about chapter three."

Chapter Eight

Tuesday, November 28, 9:45 a.m.

Reed was just happy to get his hands clean. He came out of the men's room at the convenience store still scowling at his shoes. He should have changed them before going into that house. That's why he kept several pairs in the back of his truck. Nasty cat. Covered in mud and a number of other things best left unidentified, it was currently being restrained in the box on Mitchell's lap. From where he stood, Reed could see her in the truck, her elbows propped on the box, face intent as she talked on her cell phone. She'd been on hold with DCFS when he'd come in to wash up, waiting for information on Penny Hill "s next of kin. Now her expression changed, grew softer. Pained. She was informing Hill's son, some three hundred miles away. But her face had looked like that when she'd informed the Burnettes in person.

Hill's family wasn't just an entry in Mia Mitchell's notebook. She'd insisted on using Penny Hill's name, rather than the victim. She cared. He liked that.

A yawn cracked his jaw. It had been a sleepless night and an afternoon of reading the fine print of case files loomed. He carried two cups of coffee to the cash register, then froze as his eyes dropped to the stack of newspapers at his feet.

"Will that be all?" the cashier asked.

Reed glanced up, then back down to the paper. "The coffee and a paper. Thanks."

When he got outside, she'd finished her call and was staring straight ahead. But when he knocked on her window she was quick to respond, rolling it down so she could take the coffee from his hands. "What's that?" she asked, looking at the paper.

"Your friend Carmichael. She was following you last night."

"Dammit," she said, scanning the page. "It's not the first time she followed me to a crime scene. It's like she has radar or something. 1 wonder when the woman sleeps."

"/ wonder where she was hiding. I checked the crowd. I should have seen her."

"She seems able to disappear. If she saw us, she would have hidden."

Reed started the engine. "How'd she get the story in this morning's edition?"

One side of her mouth lifted wryly. "The Bulletin goes to press at one a.m."

"You know this from experience."

She shrugged. "Like I said, it's not the first time. Looks like she's got a couple big stories on the front page. The fire is above the fold and me tackling DuPree yesterday afternoon is below." She made a hissing sound. "She named Penny Hill. Dammit."

He'd seen that. "You were able to inform the family before they found out?"

She looked glum as she read on. "The son, yes. Not the daughter."

"It says the authorities were unavailable for comment."

"Which means she called me on my office line while I was at the scene. She's a real piece of work." She sighed. "The neighbors talked, after I asked them not to."

"Some people like to see their name in print."

"Hopefully you do, because you're in the article, too." She busied herself adding cream to her coffee, using the box on her lap as a tray. "Stay still, cat," she muttered when the box shifted. "Says here that you're decorated. So dish, Solliday."

"A few citations, like yours. Next stop is the lab so we can get rid of that cat."

Mitchell patted the box. "Poor kitty."

"Dirty kitty." Reed pulled out into traffic. "That cat reeks."

She laughed. "He does have a certain… bouquet. What, don't you like animals?"

"Clean ones, yes. My daughter has a puppy. Big muddy paws all over everything."

"I always wanted a pet." She said it almost wistfully.

"So get one."

"Too much guilt. I tried goldfish once. Kind of a test. I failed. I pulled a thirty-six hour shift and when I got home I was so tired I forgot to feed it. Fluffy ended up floating."

He had to smile. "Huffy? You named a goldfish Fluffy?"

"I didn't. My friend Dana's foster kids did. It was a kind of a group effort. Anyway, all my friends have pets so I just play with theirs. That way I can't hurt anything." She sipped her coffee, quiet for so long that he turned to look at her. Immediately she straightened her back, as if she'd realized her thoughts had drifted. "Penny Hill's son said he'd drive up to claim his mother's body. He'll be here tomorrow morning."

"What about Hill's daughter? The neighbor thought she lived in Milwaukee."

"The son said his sister got divorced recently and moved back to Chicago."

"Do you have her address?"

"Yeah. She's about a half hour from here."

"Then let's drop off Percy and pay her a visit." Mitchell sighed. "I just hope she doesn't read the Bulletin."

Tuesday, November 28, 12:10 p.m.

Manny Rodriguez looked both ways before throwing the newspaper in the garbage outside the cafeteria. Behind Brooke, Julian swore softly. "You were right," he said.

"I saw him with the newspaper at the end of first period. You want to fish it out?"

Julian lifted the lid. "This is the Bulletin. Yesterday was the Tribr

"Both are available at the front desk," she said.

"Well, whatever he cut out was front-page news. You go eat your lunch. I'll check to see what Mr. Rodriguez was reading. It could just be an article about sports."

"Do you really think so?"

He shook his head. "No. Did you have any issues with him today during class?"