Morgan knocked on the door. A little boy, made 9 or 10 years old, answered.

"Hello."

"Hello.' Morgan smiled at the boy. "Is your father at home?"

The little boy nodded and then ran into the house. "Daddy." They could hear him yelling.

A moment later an older man came to the door. "Yes, can I help you?"

Morgan and Reid pulled out their badges. "I'm Special Agent Morgan, this is Dr Reid."

"You're the men from the FBI. Doug Lansing called and told me you might come by." The man stepped back to let them enter. "Please come in. We can talk in the living room." He pointed to a room just off the hallway. "Would you like some coffee or water?"

"We're fine." Reid shook his head.

"We just have a few questions, Mr Dean."

"Of course. I just can't believe Michael is dead. It's so sad." Dean sat down in a worn but comfortable armchair. Morgan and Reid sat down on the sofa. Reid pulled out a notebook and a pen.

"What kind of person was Michael Benson?" Morgan asked, once Reid was situated.

"Quiet, shy. Smart. I suppose you could say a nerd. A bit clumsy. The only class he didn't make an A in without trying was gym. The boy's asthma would have given him an excuse out of the class, but Michael wouldn't take it. Coach Bentley gave him a B in the class for trying even though he was as unathletic as he was smart."

Morgan laughed. "We know the type."

"He rode a bicycle to school?" Reid asked.

"That's right. He lived within the two mile circle so there was no bus that would pick him up. A lot of the younger students rode bicycles instead of being dropped off."

"What can you tell us about the day Michael disappeared?"

"The 16th was the last day of classes. The children were restless, running in the halls, yelling. Pulling pranks."

"Pranks like letting the air out of all the bicycle tires?"

"A common, and generally harmless, prank." Dean nodded. "There's a gas station about four blocks from the school. They see a lot of our students there, putting air back in their tires, using the hoses to wash egg or shaving cream off their cars."

"Sounds like a typical high school." Morgan nodded. "So Michael finished classes, found his bicycle tires flat and likely would have walked his bike over to the gas station before riding home."

"I would assume so."

"That fits with the location where the bicycle was found." Reid consulted his notes. "Did Michael have any friends?"

"Not that I'm aware of. At least not any very close friends. He spent most of his lunches in the science lab. Mr Franklin had an impromptu chess club going."

"You said most of his lunches." Morgan cut in. "What about the rest of the time?"

"Michael was also a peer tutor, mostly for math and science." Dean looked at them. "Does any of this help you?"

"It might." Morgan said, his voice filled with a tone of practiced false enthusiasm. "Thank you for your time." Morgan said, standing. Reid followed suit.

"If there is anything else," Dean said, leading them to the door.