'Welcome to Calliope Thrace, how may I help you?'

The secretary trying to hard to be calm looked at Beckett, who held up their badges and she nodded in recognition. 'Of course, Detectives, Deputy Headmistress Leung is waiting in her office for you.'

In keeping with the tone of the afternoon, Beckett stayed quiet as she was escorted into the principal's office once more. This time, Anna Leung looked even more wrung out; there were several piles of destroyed office supplies on her wide mahogany desk. Amongst the stacks of warped paper clips and shredded post-it notes was a copy of the morning paper with a big splashy headline - Sex Scandal Rocks Calliope Thrace. So, the dogs had caught the scent, Beckett thought miserably as she watched Anna speak to yet another parent in strained tones.

'Yes ma'am, I understand. It- no, no, ma'am this was not something anyone on staff was aware of, and- Yes I understand. Very well. And to you.'

Beckett watched the woman huff out a sigh as she replaced the receiver, and justly allowing herself a moment of pure indulgence, the cool and composed Anna pick the receiver back up and smash it a few times against the cradle before clamping her hands on the sides of her head and letting out a low snarl.

'Professor Leung?'

Anna's head lifted sharply and for a moment, Beckett saw the rawness in her eyes - the sick panic, the grief, the impotent frustration of someone just trying to do their best and being told at every turn it wasn't enough. Beckett made the on-the-spot decision to give her a little latitude lest the woman completely snap.

'Hello Detective.'

'Let me guess, dealing with irate parents?'

Anna shook her head slowly, tried to fight off the fresh edges of the migraine floating in her mind. 'They are all wanting to know why I re-opened the school so soon if I knew it wasn't safe yet.'

'That's very unfair.'

'That's parents with money.' Anna lifted her shoulders, let them slump. 'Either I try to placate them and give them a solid target for their rage, however misdirected it is, or they take their tuition money to Washington Irving or Marlowe Prep along with their alumni donations.'

'A hard line to walk.'

'Yes it is. Anyways.' She lifted a hand, trying to brush off the issue for the moment to give Beckett her undivided attention. 'I hope you're here with good news.'

'Good and bad.'

'Let me guess, you're here to inform me you're going to make an official arrest and the bad news is that it's one of my students.'

So much for latitude, Beckett thought grimly and had to nod. 'Unfortunately yes. I need you to bring Nicholas Tomasi down here. I need to take him to the precinct for an official interview.'

'Oh, Nicky.' Anna closed her eyes, pressed her fingertips to her brow. 'We've tried so hard to reach him, so hard to get him involved and keep him adjusted.'

'When we talked to him after Professor Hill's body was found, he didn't seem like someone with the problems we've since discovered he has.'

'School is his safe haven.' Needing to move, to be active somehow, Anna stood up, moved from her desk to her modest window. 'He developed severe OCD after his mother's death and school gave him the structure he desperately craved. His father said when there were PD days, they were hell on Nicky because he would always be thinking about what he'd be doing at that time at school.'

'How was he with other students?'

'He was heavily involved in science fairs, presentations to visiting schools and parents. He was very good at chemistry in particular and I believe he would have made a fortune for some Forbes pharmaceutical company.'

'How did he work with them?' Beckett clarified.

'Very well, actually. He liked the structure of science, that he always had a task to do. He was even starting to organize some students into being science mentors because it gave him authority and he likes that, likes the feeling of control over his own space since his mother's family have tried to take it away from him and his father.'

Anna returned to her desk, looked at a list on her ledger and keyed an extension into the phone; she spoke briefly and calmly. 'Hello McKayla, it's Anna. You have Nicky Tomasi in class? Can you send him to my office for a moment please? Thank you.'

'It's never easy, Anna, no matter who the criminal turns out to be,' Beckett reassured her.

'Are there any that made you feel completely incompetent, that everything you've worked for your whole career suddenly turned into a joke?'

'One or two. Then my husband pokes at me until I see the bigger picture, that there are so many people I've helped and given closure to after such horrible shock.' Beckett shifted forward in her chair. 'I'm sure there are plenty of parents who were home this weekend saying they were thankful you were here in charge and able to keep everyone as calm as possible during such a crisis.'

'That's why you're a top cop.'

There was a rap on the door, and it was opened by one of the many secretaries; she was followed by a hollowed-out looking Nicky. He looked painfully young, Beckett thought, the sad little boy so lost and confused with so much hurt and pain in his eyes. His illness was no excuse, though, for what he'd done.

'Nicky,' Anna started softly, but Nicky shook his head.

'I know why she's here. She wants to talk to me about Sarah, right?'

'And Professor Hill,' Beckett added, rising from her chair. 'It has to be at the precinct, Nicky. On record.'

'I want a lawyer. My dad knows a good one.'

'You can have your lawyer,' she agreed smoothly, just like she was trying to tell RJ he could stay up past his bedtime, 'and if you like he can meet us there.'

'Please.'

Beckett nodded, dialed Cesare at home and kept her end of the bargain she'd made with her probable killer's father. 'Your lawyer will be at the precinct waiting for us, Nicky. Will you come quietly with me to my vehicle or do I need to put you in handcuffs?'

'No.' Nicky shook his head firmly. 'No, I'll be fine without them. I'm not a violent person.'

On that point, Beckett believed he thought he was one hundred percent right - Nicky would not see what he'd done to Wayne Hill or Sarah Ritter as acts of violence but as the means to an end. He had a problem and wanted to be rid of it. Case closed, as far as a sociopath with severe OCD was concerned. Still, she kept a calm and placid look on her face as she stepped up beside him and escorted him out of the school to the Crown Vic where he amicably slipped into the back seat.

'May I ask you something, Detective?' Nicky said as he looked out the window.

'Depends what the something is, Nicky.'

'I know you're married to Rick Castle, the writer, and you inspired him to write the Nikki Heat series.'

'Yes.'

'Does it ever get to be too much, the pressure to live up to the perfect Nikki Heat image?'

'No,' Beckett replied honestly, 'because Nikki Heat is as flawed as I am, in some ways more than me, and trying to live up to an impossible standard does no one any good.'

She thought of Andrea and her sisters, of Andrea and Daniel, and how they'd all been there for Andrea when she'd been single out by fashion critics after the Vanity Fair party they all got to attend for the Real Live Women exhibit. 'If you set goals for yourself and you reach them, surpass them, that's the part that counts the most because you go to bed with yourself at night and no one else. Now it's my turn for a question.'

'Go ahead.'

'Who are you living for, Nicky?'

'I'm not sure I follow you.'

'Who are you living for, Nicky,' she repeated. 'Who in your life makes you feel the only way to solve a problem is to get rid of the problem by whatever means necessary?'

'Hang on to that question, Detective. I'll answer it with my lawyer present.'

He didn't say another word until Beckett parked at the Twelfth Precinct.