Eames turned out of the parking garage into traffic while Goren read over the histology report. Without looking up, he said, "How are your sister and the baby?"

His question caught her off guard. "They're okay. My sister is sore but the baby is fine."

"What happened?"

"They were rear-ended on the BQE." She looked at him. "Thanks for asking."

He returned his attention to the report, but the corners of his mouth turned up a little. She suppressed a smile of her own as she made a right onto Centre Street.


Matt's family lived in a brownstone in the same neighborhood as Kelly's aunt and uncle. The door was answered by an older woman in a blue dress. Her face was filled with suspicion as she examined the two detectives. Eames showed her badge and said, "We are Detectives Eames and Goren. We're investigating Matt's death, and we need to talk with his parents."

The woman's expression changed. "Come in."

She showed them to a plush, well-appointed parlor. "Please make yourselves comfortable and I will get my son and his wife."

"Thank you, Mrs. Barrister," Eames answered.

Eames sat on a long couch and watched her partner wander around the room. He was more restless than usual, but she couldn't say she blamed him. Kelly had him off balance and she had not been able to bring him back.

Trevor and Beverly Barrister came into the room together. Trevor extended a hand as Eames rose from the couch and walked toward them. "I am Detective Eames," she introduced herself. She nodded toward Goren. "My partner is Detective Goren."

Trevor shook his hand. "We were told you attended Matt's funeral."

Goren nodded. "I...wanted to convey our sympathy."

Beverly reached out and touched his arm. "That was kind of you."

Trevor motioned to the center of the room. "Please, sit down. The chief of police told me there was some question about what happened to Matt."

Beverly covered her mouth with her hand and stifled a sob. Her husband kissed her head. "I can handle this, honey."

She shook her head. "No. I want to hear what they have to say."

Eames looked at Goren. What did they have to say? She was glad when Goren took the lead. "We just had a talk with our medical examiner," he said, his tone soft and kind. "She has determined that Matt died from a sudden, severe allergic reaction. What allergies did he have?"

Beverly answered, "He was very healthy. Really, the only serious allergy we know of is to a medication, but he wasn't taking any medication. If he was, we certainly wouldn't give him that one! He had a very bad reaction to it when he was about eight."

"What medication?"

Trevor answered, "Penicillin. He had other minor allergies, like most people, but penicillin could kill him."

Maybe it did, Eames thought as Goren's vast knowledge of the human body kicked in. "The body's reaction to allergens can change over time. What 'minor' allergies did Matt have?"

Beverly took a deep breath. "Oh, ragweed and some grasses and tree pollens, like Trevor. Cat dander. Uh, strawberries." She looked at Trevor, who nodded. "That's all," she concluded.

"So the only severe allergy he had was to penicillin?"

"That, and poison ivy." She smiled sadly. "He went to camp when he was twelve and came home horribly blistered. He was in the hospital for two days and on steroids for two months to clear it up."

"Did he ever have any trouble breathing, related to poison ivy exposure?"

She shook her head. "No. But he hasn't been exposed to it in the past few years. He learned to identify it and avoided it like the plague."

Eames said, "Well, we're fairly sure he didn't get exposed to poison ivy out on the football field."

"He wouldn't have taken any penicillin," Trevor insisted. "He knew how allergic he was to it. He had nightmares for a long time after it almost killed him."

Goren nodded his head. "Well, thank you for your time. We will be in touch with you when we know more."

He followed Eames across the room, but stopped in the doorway, turning. "Uh, how is your daughter?"

Beverly's eyes filled with tears as Trevor answered, "She misses her brother, detective. But thank you for asking." He paused, then added, "And thank you for your consideration, for allowing us time to grieve."

Goren nodded again before following his partner out of the home.


When they got back to the squad room, Goren called Rodgers and asked her to test Matt's body and the contents of his stomach for penicillin. He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, watching Eames.

Sensing his gaze on her, she looked up. "What?"

He averted his eyes, trailing his finger along the edge of his binder. "I, uhm...about last night. I should have known better. I am sorry."

She tapped her pen against the reports in front of her. "I agree. You should have known better. But neither of us was prepared for Kelly. So forget it, okay? Just move on. Don't dwell on it."

He nodded but he continued to stare at the desk. "What do we do...about Kelly?"

"Good question. If we confront her, she'll just deny it."

He shook his head slowly. "We have to do something. I can't...I can't deal with this."

Eames remained quietly in thought for some time before she finally observed, "She seems determined to discredit me, in your eyes...to drive a wedge between us."

Silence lay heavy between them again, and she finally broke it by pointing out, "Bobby, she has your home address."

He shrugged. "She's 18, Eames. What is she going to do to me?"

He never saw a threat to himself for what it truly was. "She can manipulate you into a compromising situation, cry wolf, cost you your job."

She could tell by his reaction that had never occurred to him. Controlled panic flickered across his face. "S-So...what do I do? Let her drive me out of my home, disrupt my life, destroy my career?"

She struggled with her reaction to him. He was clearly at a loss and he was turning to her for help. But how could she insulate him from the threat that Kelly clearly presented? "Stay with me," she offered.

He stared at her. "So we let her disrupt both of our lives?"

"She's not interested in me, Bobby. She isn't about to waste her time putting any effort into finding out anything about me. I have a spare bedroom. She won't look for you with me, not after she thinks she caused a problem between us."

He felt a surge of anger. How the hell had it come to this? He was being harassed, stalked, by a goddam teenager. Lurching from his chair, he walked out of the squad room.

Watching him leave, Eames felt a mixture of concern and irritation. While he had not exactly invited this particular problem, he had not done anything to prevent it either. She had just made up her mind to go after him when the phone rang. She grabbed it, turning pale by the time the speaker on the other end was done talking. Hanging up the phone, she hurried off in search of her partner.


As they approached the scene, they were engulfed by an odd sense of deja vu. Students milled about, some curious, some in shock. Goren glanced around warily before focusing his attention on the young man who lay on his side on the pitcher's mound of the baseball diamond. He walked around to look at the young man's face, his somber expression changing for a moment before he regained control and his guarded expression returned. "Eames," he said before she walked away.

She walked around to his side. "Oh," she murmured softly. Their new victim was Scott Lindstrom, Matt's closet lover.

Eames approached the two adults who stood nearby as Goren began his examination of the body.

She recognized the football coach, Carl Fredericks. "Don't tell me this is another one of your players, coach," she said, giving no indication to the coach that she knew the boy.

He shook his head. "No. Scotty was a soccer player. This is Bert Carson, the head coach of the boy's soccer team. He and I were together in my office when Scott's body was found."

"Who found him?"

He motioned toward a group of students. "Those three kids over there. Charley Carson, Sally Evans and Dwayne Stevens."

Eames looked toward the students. All three of them looked shell-shocked. "And when you arrived?"

Carson shrugged his shoulders. "Dwayne came to Carl's office, looking for him because he is medically trained. We both hurried here to the field, but...it was too late. We had the office secretary call you, in case this could somehow be related to what happened to Matt."

She nodded. "Did anyone move the body?"

"Not that we are aware of, no."

She thanked them and headed toward the three teens. They had moved over to the bleachers, and they sat together. Sally was trembling, leaning heavily against Dwayne and struggling not to cry. Charley sat on Sally's other side, his face buried in his arms. "Hey, kids," Eames said as she approached. When they looked at her, she introduced herself and said, "Tell me what happened."

Charley looked around. "There's never anybody out here at lunchtime. Everybody goes over to the football field. Sally and Dwayne and I came out here today."

"Why were you coming out here?"

The boy shifted uncomfortably. "We just...We wanted a smoke. So...I...I always come out here at lunchtime, and they were with me today. The teachers, they don't bother coming out here."

"What did you see today?"

"We saw...him...laying there, on the pitcher's mound. Just...just laying there. So we came over...and...and Dwayne went to get the coach."

"Did you see anyone else out here?"

Sally pointed across the field. "There was someone running on the far side of the field, but I couldn't make out who it was."

"Was it a student?"

"I think so. He looked like he was wearing a uniform. I think so, yes."

"A boy?"

She nodded. "Girls are required to wear skirts from November until March. It was one of the boys."

"Could you tell anything else?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, detective. No."

"Did any of you know Scott?"

"Not well," Charley offered.

Sally wrapped her arms around herself. "He was very quiet, but nice. He was helping me with my math. He was smart."

"Did any of you know Matt Barrister?"

Sally and Charley shook their heads, but Dwayne nodded. "I played baseball with Matt."

"Is there anything you can tell me about him?"

"He was a good fielder, a nice guy."

Her mouth formed a tight smile. "Thanks, kids. If you can think of anything else, Coach Fredericks knows how to contact us."

She pulled out her phone and placed a call as she crossed the field to the pitcher's mound, where Goren was still bent over Scott's body. "Rodgers is on her way and so is CSU. Find anything?"

Goren leaned back on his heels, resting his arms on his knees. He stared at Scott's face. "This was a nice kid, Eames," he mused.

"So I've been told," she agreed, then she waited for him to continue.

"Matt's death...was premeditated. But this one..." He shook his head. "Whoever killed Scott didn't plan it. But it was someone with a lot of strength, or a lot of rage. Or both." He pointed toward the young man's chin. "It looks...It looks like his neck was broken." His hand continued to move. "His hands and his knees...were driven into the dirt...right here. And then...he was dropped. And whoever killed him..." He motioned toward more footprints. "...went that way."

Eames motioned toward the kids sitting in the bleachers. "The girl, Sally, she said she saw someone running at that end of the field. She said it looked like a male student, or someone dressed like a male student."

Goren nodded slowly. "His body is still warm."

Eames watched him drop his chin to his chest and she wanted to reach out to him, to touch his shoulder and offer...something. But she didn't move. He slowly got to his feet. "Come on," he murmured, walking off toward the far end of the field where Sally had seen the other student running from the field.

There was an opening in the fence and the dirt around it was soft. Goren squatted in the grass, studying the footprints in the dirt. "Fresh," he muttered, looking off toward the school, in the direction the footprints were heading. "And in a hurry."

Eames wasn't sure if he was talking to her or not. She watched him make his way around the soft dirt, careful not to disturb the soil or make any footprints himself. She attempted to follow, but her legs weren't quite long enough for her to manage it and keep her balance. He reached out and grabbed her, guiding her with a firm grasp on one arm and her waist. She looked up at his face, and the grief she saw caught her off guard. "Bobby," she whispered.

He released her once she was beside him and walked away, unwilling to discuss anything with her at the moment. Silently, she followed him toward the school.

As they approached the school, he found some loose dirt on the sidewalk nearest the field they had crossed. Pulling an evidence bag from his pocket, he gathered it and handed it to Eames, who marked it. They found nothing else, and there were no students in the area.

By the time they got back to the baseball field, CSU was there. Eames handed off the evidence bag and Goren instructed the techs to gather samples and take pictures from the far end of the field as well as from the pitcher's mound around the body.

One of the techs, one they had been working with for years, leaned toward Eames. "Is he okay, Detective Eames?"

It was rare that Goren was rattled by a crime scene. "He'll be okay," she assured him, hoping she was right.

As they walked back toward the school building, Eames hoped they would not run into Kelly. She didn't think her partner could handle the girl's intensity at the moment. Every few steps, she looked over at him, but he was not looking her way. She wanted to say something, but she was afraid to say the wrong thing. Finally, she said, "You really liked that kid."

He didn't answer right away. Finally, he looked at her. "Yes," he answered simply. "He was a quiet, sensitive kid."

"What do you think happened?"

"I think...he confronted someone about Matt's death. Maybe he knew something, or found out something, that he didn't tell us, or that he didn't have a chance to tell us. He was...devastated by Matt's death."

"Do you think he was investigating on his own?"

He gave that some thought. "No. But he may have found out something. Or someone may have found out something about him."

"You mean about him being gay?"

He nodded. "Yes. People have gotten killed for less."

"So...you think this was a gay bashing?"

"I don't know. It could have been part of it. Scott said no one knew about Matt, or about him and Matt, but he didn't say no one knew about him."

"The kids that found him didn't say anything about it."

He rubbed his chin. "Not everyone automatically jumps to those conclusions. Did they know him?"

"Not well. He was helping Sally with her math, but she didn't really know him."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did they say why they were out there?"

"They went out there for a smoke."

He chewed on his lip. "Not tobacco..."

"That was my impression. Unless high school has changed a whole lot since I went, the cigarette smokers weren't the ones ducking behind bleachers and dumpsters. They said teachers never came out to that field at lunchtime."

"So whoever killed Scott probably didn't intend to be seen, or for Scott's body to be found until later in the day, after school, at least."

She was quiet for along moment before she asked, "Bobby, do you think Kelly is involved in any of this?"

"Kelly?" He frowned and considered that. Slowly, he shook his head. "No, I don't think so. She's...assertive and determined...but I don't think she's a killer. And she had no motivation to kill Matt...or Scott." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think it would matter to her one way or another that Scott was gay, and she doesn't have the upper body strength to snap his neck. She couldn't have overpowered him, much less killed him."

"But Roger...?"

"Roger possesses the strength and the rage. If Scott confronted him about being Matt's killer...that would be enough to knock him over the edge. Risk of disclosure would be enough to make him act." He paused, then opened his portfolio, pulling out a sheet of paper. "Roger should have been in English class over the last forty-five minutes. Let's go see if he was."