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Chapter six

Javier Esposito is NOT amused. This case is officially getting on his last nerve, his patience growing incredibly thin- "What do you mean, it's in the school?" he hisses, ignoring Beckett's urging glare of 'What's going on? Share!'

"You heard me!" The curled detective barks from the other side, "I talked to the principal and school's computer manager, I talked to the digital company, I crossed the information which you gave me, the messages were sent from the school itself! It's a school computer," taking a deep and much annoyed breath, passing the cell-phone to the other ear, she seethes, "Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on here?!"

His eyes traveling around the room, thoughts running through his head, Esposito finally addresses his colleagues- "Karpawski says the IP address?" they all nod, "Is originated in one of the school's computers!" his eyes widen.

He then muffles something which sounds like "Talk to you later", then hangs up without saying another word.

Beckett frowns, then turns to look at Castle and Ryan, "This doesn't make any sense!" she exclaims frustratingly, "Austin is from the Bronx, he's in college, how is it possible that he wrote those text messages through the school-channels?"

Ryan is struggling with the though, too, "This is beyond weird," he says, "We profiled this Austin guy in a certain manner, now it turns out it's probably some bored teenager?"

"Who gave us the Intel about this dude in the first place?" Barks Esposito. Somehow he gets the feeling that someone was pulling one over on them. And he doesn't like it. He's been a homicide cop for a long time, now; nobody makes a fool out of him.

Clucking her tongue, Beckett says "Lee Oggani did."

Castle arches and eyebrow, "So either she doesn't know her friend like she said she does…." He starts.

"-…Or she was lying to us," completes Beckett.

And considering the fact that she lied in the past, this is hardly surprising.

Releasing a sigh, Beckett says, "As soon as we finish here, we go check again on all the witnesses who were in the school that day. And we're not cutting them any slack," her next word are directed at Ryan and Esposito, "Teachers, students, workers, I don't care if they stand in line if necessary, we get them to tell us everything they know. No one lies to us anymore. This ends here!"

Esposito and Ryan exchange knowing looks as they open the folders casually. In front of them, in the dark interrogation room, sits Miriam Challeff, the theatre teacher; "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Challeff," mumbles Esposito in somewhat boredom, his eyes stuck in the folder.

The short, middle-aged woman, round glasses covering her pointy nose, reminds Esposito of those days Barbra Streisand would rather forget. Her hair stuck on her head in a weird bun, all curly and entangled, might as well as serves as a beetles nest.

How can any parent let this woman hang around their kid, is the million dollar question.

Shaking his head, trying to concentrate, he starts- "I would like you to run it by me one more time, if you don't mind; what happened three days ago?"

The tiny woman fixes her glasses on her nose, in what probably is an attempt to come down. When she starts speaking, her voice is almost as squeaky as the printer once turned on, "On Monday," the starts, chokingly, "My class starts are 12:30, ends around 15:00," she gulps, "we were about to broadcast a play about a month later, in which Tamara was to have an important role. The duchess' sister, to be exact," she stops there, pulling on her shirt slightly, bringing her round glasses to clean them using the fabric, "We were to have a theory lesson on Monday," she puts the glasses back on, "we did have it. We discussed a theme."

"Mhmm," offers Esposito casually, "And what was that 'theme', exactly?"

"Fear," says the teacher, "I asked each student what they're afraid of, now; not in general, because general fears define you in a certain point it's hard to get rid of them, but each has an instant fear, something that the duchess had to go through, so to get into the mind of the character, I asked the students about their immediate fear. What scares them right there and then, as we spoke."

"Please continue," says Ryan.

"They offered some pretty amusing ideas," she smiles, "When asked about 'here and now', Ronald said he's afraid his movie-date with Michelle will not go well. Natalia said she's afraid to fail in the calculus exam. Paul said he's afraid the this class might never end…" she makes a face, and Ryan holds back a small smile, but then the teacher's face grew serious, "And Tamara said…"

Esposito cocks and eyebrow, "She said…?" he pushes, "What did Tamara said her immediate fear was."

The teacher's eyes are like arrows as she gazes into the detective's eyes, "Death," she says, "Tamara said she's afraid she may die soon."

"Thank you for coming over, John," says Beckett, as she closes the break-room's door behind her, a quick glance at her watch telling her that she has 30 minutes before 'the pushovers' arrive from the 2nd precinct, where they were 'going through the evidence', "I'm so sorry for your loss," she says quietly, as they both site down on the couch.

Pulling םצ his nose, 17 year old John Richmond bites his lip in bitterness , "You found the son-of-a-bitch who did this, yet?" he challenges rigidly.

Taking a breath, Beckett says slowly, "We're still working on that," she must say, it sounds lame, even to her.

John, his dark curls short, his black leather jacket apparently not fitted to his size, as it falls too loose on the young man's shoulders, chuckles humorlessly, mumbling "Useless cops" under his breath.

"I wanted to ask you, since you came back from Washington less than a day ago, and I didn't have the chance to talk to you, did you… know about anything, any problem your sister might have had, anyone who held grudge, anything that can help us find whoever did this?"

His face twists in spite, "grudge?!" he spits, leaning forward, elbows on his knees in an almost threatening position, "Detective, my sister was not even 13 years old, yet. Who would hold grudge against her?!" he demands incredulously, "What on earth can cause someone to do something like this?" he cries, chocked, as tears bile up his throat, "Tamara was a great kid!" he protests, "She didn't smoke, she didn't touch alcohol, she didn't go to those clubs I know her slutty girlfriends used to hang around!" he gulps, pain obvious in his voice, "had I known she might be in danger, I wouldn't have let her out of my sight!" clenching his fist, he bites into it in anger, "My baby sister is gone. My mom….my dad…Eden... he loved Tamara so much… and now…" his shoulders sag in desperation, "Where do we go from here?"

Pursing her lips, Beckett cannot answer this question. She can, however, give him some details, "We called in her teachers, people she knew from school. Her classmates, we follow some leads given to us," John's eyes narrow in suspicion, "some of her friends told us things which might be useful, you probably know them, Lee, Natalie, uhhm-"

"Lee?!" his voice fills with anger and protest that Beckett almost flinches, "You asked Lee to give you insight on my sister's life?" wrath radiates from him massively.

"She is her best friend, isn't she?" comments Beckett.

"Like hell she is!" seethes Tamara's sibling, "That little bitch should keep quiet! Tell her next time I see her, I'm gonna rip her fucking throat out!" his voice rises in volumes.

That burst of anger tells more about the situation that any other questioning she went through in the last couple of days. Blinking, she askes –"Tell me, John."

"Oh, sure, I'll tell you!" he leans back, obviously shook up but trying to relax, "That skank shows up on our doorstep, about… three months ago? Almost crushing the door open with her knocking, late at night, imagine that, demanding to see my sister. I open the door, about to give the rude guest a piece of my mind, when I see it's that Lee kid. I know her, and she's a girl, so obviously, I'm being polite not kicking her out of the yard, right?" Beckett's look encourages him to continue, "I tell her my sister is at a friend's house, she's not home, and she tells me, right in my face that is! That the next time she see's Tam she's going to make sure that even mom won't recognize her. I start asking what is she yammering about, and then she says that my sister messed up with the wrong boy, an older kid, who apparently belongs to a much better girl, and that she should pay for it."

Beckett raises and eyebrow; another interesting detail young Lee failed to share, "She said that?"

"Can you believe that little bitch?!" he asks, "I yell at her to get the hell out, that I'm still being the gentleman and all, that if Eden was there he'll give her a lesson she'll never forget. And like that, she leaves. Tamara comes back from school the morning after, crying. She tells me that Lee turned all her friends on her, nobody talks to her because they believe she betrayed on her friends." He hisses.

"I see…" Beckett says slowly, "And how long did this fight continue?"

"It never ended," emphasizes John, "That slut kept calling our house, yelling at Tamara each time that she's going to make her life miserable, and that she should stay the hell from that boy or else…" he bolds, "last phone call we received from her was 2 days before my sister was murdered."

2 days?! "Lee never mentioned having any problems with Tamara, she said she was her best friend, that she was great and she's incredibly shocked that she's gone…"

"That because she's a fucking liar!" John fumes, "And that prank she pulled on my sister starting two weeks after that incident?" he notes, "she should be thankful my dad never said anything 'bout that!"

"Wait…Prank, what prank?" asks Beckett.

"Apparently, after a party at a friend's house, she starts receiving creepy phone calls, from a college boy, no less," he emphasizes, "They tell me his name's Austin."

That triggers Beckett's attention even more. Again, that mysterious guy, Austin…

"Those phone calls really creep her out, and giving all that she's going though, her list of friend growing very thin, I take it upon myself to check that she doesn't get into any trouble. I sometimes even follow her friends," from the detective's arched eyebrow he ignores, "Then I catch Lee, with some of the bitches she hangs around with, in the computers' room. They chat and laugh about who will be the next texting her Facebook and phone from this guy Austin."

Wait…Then it means…

"That dude? He doesn't even exist!"

Beckett shuts her eyes tightly, momentarily.

"It was all a fucking joke to scare her, to make her sound like a crazy girl, to molest her, that's all!"

And that explains a lot.

"I go and tell my sister about it, and she just tells me to leave it… that they're mean because they think she's bad… but that once they learn it's all a misunderstanding, they'll apologize to her, and they'll all be friends again.." he smiles humorlessly, ironically, "And we both know how that ended."

Agnes catches her husband sitting in front of the television, watching the news.

Putting the plate on the shelf next to the armchair, she takes a minute to listen to what they say- "Even though an official statement was not yet given, police does say that a man they have in holding might be the murderer of young Tamara Richmond. He ties himself to the scene, and furthermore…-"

"Ohh, Arthur," she exhales, "Please, stop this. To each news addition you listen obsessive for three days now..." she sighs dramatically, "You're torturing yourself over this, darling…"

"Ssshhh," he hushes her, then releases a frustrated breath, "There is nothing new," he blinks.

"Of course not, because both of us know this man didn't do it." She comments, and sits on the couch, "You should go to the cops, darling," she says, "Go, and tell them the truth."

His eyes widen in fear, "No!" he calls, "You heard what they said in this neighborhood yesterday! You know what'll do to me if I go and tell them what happened?"

"Darling, you must!" she tries to encourage him, "You're conscience would eat at you if you don't! You know that! Don't you owe that to that girl, to tell the truth?"

"I can't!" he closes his eyes tightly, "I can't! I won't dare!"

"But, love…."

"How can I go to them?" tears in his eyes, those wonder from the TV screen to his frustrated wife, "How can I go and tell them what happened?...How can I tell anyone?..." he gulps loudly, "What an awful thing I did?..."

…TBC…

Don't you just HATE me now?:D