They found out where Roger had English and walked through almost deserted hallways toward the classroom. Goren rested his hand on Eames' back and leaned into her. "We should discuss Scott in the present tense," he said, his voice hushed. "As though he's still alive."

She nodded, following his train of thought. "And watch how people react."

"Exactly."

"Detective Goren!" They turned to see Kelly and her friend Bethany approaching. Eames rolled her eyes as the girls drew closer. Goren did not need Kelly's melodrama. He had enough going on right then.

Eames watched Goren immediately tense up as the girls stopped beside him. Kelly looked up at him as he shifted his position away from her and closer to Eames. "Do you feel better?"

"Better?"

"You looked like you didn't feel well last night."

"I...I'm fine."

Eames interrupted. "Do you girls know where we can find Scott Lindstrom?"

Kelly looked thoughtful. She played with the necklace that rested just above the cleavage displayed where her shirt was open two buttons too many. She seemed comfortable being gawked at by both teenage boys and by men--in fact, she obviously loved it. She played manipulative tricks to direct their attention where she wanted it to be.

Eames glanced sideways at her partner, pleased to see that, although he naturally followed the movement of her hand, he soon realized what Kelly was doing and shifted his eyes away. Kelly apparently noticed as well, and she frowned when he looked at her friend. "I don't remember seeing Scotty at lunch," Bethany said. "So he'll be in class now...history, I think. Mr. Weaver."

Eames moved closer to them. "Do either of you girls know Scott well?"

Kelly shook her head. "Before we moved to England, I went to school with him. He was always quiet, and usually preferred to play off by himself, or sit and read."

Bethany added, "I don't think he's into dating. I don't know of any girlfriends he's had. Maybe he has his eyes on the priesthood. I don't know. But he is really nice."

Eames nodded. "Thanks, girls."

Kelly touched Goren's arm, but he moved away. She showed no reaction to his withdrawal. "We're late for math. Come on, Bethy."

Laughing, the girls hurried down the hall and the detectives continued walking in the opposite direction.

After a frustrating, fruitless discussion with Roger's English teacher, they walked in silence toward the main office. He was lost in thought, so Eames was surprised by a sudden question from him. "Do you really think Kelly would try to ruin my career?"

She sighed, sensing how off-balance he was. "I wouldn't put anything past her. You need to tread very carefully." She hesitated before adding, "And I think we need to give Deakins a heads-up."

"Deakins?"

She could tell he didn't like the idea. "Yes, Bobby. Deakins. He needs to know that whatever goes down, you are not responsible for any of it. He needs to know, right now, that you have done the right thing from the start."

"Because no one will ever believe it after the fact."

"It's called covering your ass. If you don't want to say anything, fine. I will. I am not going to watch some teeny bopper sabotage your career and hang you out to dry."

"She's hardly a teeny bopper, Eames."

"You know what I mean, Goren."

He huffed. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

They arrived at the main office and requested to see the principal. The secretary asked them to wait as she rose from her desk. Goren shifted his position a little as he watched her walk to the inner office. Eames rolled her eyes but said nothing as they waited for the secretary to announce them to her boss. She returned right away and said, "Mr. Cavanaugh will see you, detectives."

Stanley Cavanaugh rose from his desk and extended a hand toward the detectives. "Please, sit down," he invited. "Fill me in, detectives. What is going on at my school? Two boys are now dead?"

Eames lowered herself into a chair as Goren made his rounds of the office, reading diplomas and the spines of books on the shelves, pulling out the books that interested him. "I'm afraid so," Eames answered, drawing the man's attention to her.

Cavanaugh shook his head slowly. "These were good boys, never in any trouble. They were both active in athletics and academics. National Honor Society members, college bound. They were both offered academic and athletic scholarships. What did they do to deserve what happened to them?"

"Maybe nothing," Goren answered as he finished his perusal of the shelves and the walls. "We need a couple of things from you, Mr. Cavanaugh. We need access to Matt and Scott's lockers and the home addresses of a few students, and a copy of the last month's attendance records."

"Of course. Do you have an idea who is killing these kids? What kind of psychopath targets children?"

Goren answered, "We don't know that yet, sir."

The principal picked up a pen. "What addresses did you need?"

Eames gave him the names of the students they wanted to talk to off campus. "Marcus Richmond, Bethany Walters, David Barnes, Roger Lassiter, Todd Faraday and Harry Devarest."

He wrote down their names as she spoke. "Are these kids in any danger?"

It was telling that he did not seem to regard any of them as potential suspects, not even Roger. Goren replied, "We don't know yet. It's possible. If we determine any of these kids are in danger, we will take the appropriate steps to protect them."

Cavanaugh rose from his desk. "Please do, detectives." He walked to the door and called to his secretary, handing her the list of names. "Please get the home addresses of these students for the detectives and give them the locker numbers and combinations for Matthew and Scott's lockers. Also make copies of the attendance records for the last month for them."

He extended his hand and wished the detectives luck. "Please keep me informed."

They waited in the outer office while the secretary gathered the information they needed.

They came upon Scott's locker first. Eames read off the numbers from the paper in front of her as Goren turned the lock with gloved hands. "37-25-13."

He pulled the locker open and looked at Eames, who commented, "My high school locker was never that neat."

Goren shuffled through textbooks and notebooks. Reaching into the locker, to the back of the shelf, he pulled out a small baggy. Eames smirked. "Pot. Every high school misfit's best friend."

Goren arched an eyebrow. "Just misfits, Eames? What about prom queens?"

She smiled. "I'll never tell."

He pulled out a well-worn paperback novel. "Shakespeare's Hamlet."

"For English class."

He shook his head. "No. They're doing Julius Caesar in English class. There were notes on the board. He was reading this on his own."

"What teenager reads Hamlet for fun?" When he looked at her, eyebrows arched, she said, "Don't tell me. You did."

"Actually, it was Macbeth, and it was challenging."

"Always looking for a challenge," she commented as he flipped through the book.

"Always," he admitted as he pulled a folded piece of paper from the book's pages and opened it. After staring at it for a moment, he held it out to Eames. She read it before slipping it into an evidence bag. The unsigned note read Meet me at the baseball field at lunchtime.

A similar search of Matt's locker yielded nothing and the detectives headed out of the school. As they crossed the parking lot, Eames looked up at her partner. He was looking over the attendance records, but his face was unreadable.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he answered, too quickly.

She knew better, but she let it go. He identified too closely with Scott and she was concerned. "You think Scott got caught up in circumstances?"

He thought about the note from the boy's locker. "At the very least he was set up. Someone lured him out onto that ball field."

"Do you think Kelly is involved? She is certainly manipulative and aggressive when it comes to what she wants," she said.

Goren nodded in agreement. "And she's good at it. I'm starting to see that now, how she uses her looks to her advantage, to pursue her goals. But I don't think she is involved in what happened, except peripherally. I don't see that the death of either boy benefits her in any way. Neither death gets her anything she wants."

Eames hesitated, both surprised and validated by his admission. She stopped in the middle of the parking lot, a light touch on her partner's arm halting him in mid stride. "Bobby, she wants you."

Goren's normally gentle features tensed, his jaw locked and his lips turned down into a frown. "Don't remind me." He turned to look at the school and then back at his partner. He was still tense.

"Scott..." He continued toward the car. "Scott would not have responded to her like the other boys did."

Eames considered how to approach the idea. It was a sensitive subject. "Maybe she saw him as a challenge, the way she sees you."

"A challenge," he muttered. "Am I a challenge, Eames?"

The two detectives had reached the car. Eames stayed with him by the passenger door. She felt a surge of warmth for the tall, gentle man who'd been her partner for so many years and was so often misunderstood. Spontaneously, she smiled. "Yes, you are. But that's not necessarily a bad thing."

Clearly a bit anxious, Goren stared at the ground and swayed a little, side to side. Finally, hesitantly, he began, "I...I didn't see...what she was doing. I didn't want to see it. She...uh..." He looked up and straight into her eyes. His brown gaze bore into her. "You saw it, right from the start. Thanks, for watching out for me."

His intensity moved her, and her heart began to pound. She forced her voice to remain calm. "Someone has to. Sometimes you forget about that."

"Watching out for myself? Yeah. I get...focused on the case. But you...you always keep me in mind, and, well...thank you. I, uh, I need you... uh, well… to…you know…."

And then a small smile, but it reached his eyes and touched her deep inside.

"Yes, Bobby. I know." She cleared her throat. "I guess we better get going. We have people to talk to."

She stepped away from him and walked around the vehicle. They got into the SUV and left the school.

As Eames drove toward the address they had been given for Roger's residence, she asked, "Have you decided to accept my offer yet?"

"What offer?"

"To stay at my place."

He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "I don't know, Eames. I...Do you really think she'd show up at my door?"

"Do you really think she won't?"

He was silent, staring out his window, but his hands were knotted into fists. "I don't know," he said, and she could hear the tension in his voice.

"Just think about it. Think about what will happen when she does show up at your door."

Eames seemed to know what she was talking about, and he had no experience with teenage girls...not since he'd been a teenage boy, anyway. Just what would he do if Kelly turned up at his door? "Uh...I'll...I'll need to get some clothes...you know...a toothbrush..."

She found his shy hesitancy amusing, but she kept that to herself. "We can stop by your place when we're done for the day. Really, Bobby, you are not putting me out at all."

"If you say so, Eames."

She noticed that he did not relax at all, and she wondered if he even realized it.

The Lassiters lived in a nice, well-kept home in a quiet, upscale neighborhood. Goren paced on the small porch as Eames rang the bell a second time. The door finally opened, slowly. Marcy Lassiter was a slender, well-groomed woman. Her dark hair was gathered on her head, not a strand out of place. But she had the demeanor of a prey animal, her eyes constantly darting around, up and down the street. She nervously smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. "May I help you?" she asked, insincere.

Eames held up her badge. "I'm Detective Eames and this is my partner, Detective Goren. We are investigating the deaths of a couple of students at your son's school. We would like to have a word with you."

"Oh, I'm afraid I have nothing to say. Roger is a good boy." She looked at Goren. "You should come back when my husband is home and talk to him."

Annoyed, Eames asked, "Why is that, Mrs. Lassiter?"

"Steven deals with Roger and his school issues. If you want to know about Roger, you have to talk to Steven. And you should send him back to talk with Steven, alone."

"That's not how we work, and we would like to talk..."

"I'm sorry. I can't help you. Come back later and talk to Steven." She stared at Eames nervously. "If you must."

Like a frightened rabbit, she slipped back into the house and locked the door. Eames stared at the closed door for a moment. "Well...that was interesting."

Goren looked thoughtful. "She's terrified."

Eames turned and started down the steps. "I can't wait to meet her husband."

"Be careful what you wish for, Eames," Goren cautioned as he followed her away from the house. Glancing back, he saw the curtains on the front window flutter and anger clenched his gut. No woman should live in fear of her husband like that. There was no way he would return to this home without Eames. He couldn't trust his temper and he knew it. He had spoken the truth when he told Eames he needed her. He sensed that she knew it, but he wondered if she knew how much.