want that to happen. Not only did those small congregations suffer a huge emotional and financial loss, the entire region had received yet another black eye through the lawlessness of a few individuals.
“We can almost guarantee it.”
“Even if I had a suspicion that any of my students were involved—and I assure you I don’t—I wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing those with the police.”
“Those churches were all within a twenty-five mile radius of this high school. If you take a map—”
“I’m sure you have. Believe me, we all understand that the people of this county are suspects. But even if this community is at the center of the area where the fires occurred, that doesn’t mean any student from this school set them. Nor does your profile, no matter who composed it.”
“Profiling gives us a place to start. This is it.”
Lindsey looked at Dave, wanting him to defend the kids of this community. It wasn’t that none of them had ever been in trouble. Or that she thought they couldn’t be. Not after ten years in the profession. But she also wasn’t stupid enough to believe that just because the school sat in the geographic center of the area where the arsons had occurred, that meant the people involved in them attended it.
Dave shrugged, seeming to indicate he was bowing to what he saw as inevitable. Maybe Nolan had shared more information with him. Considering what he’d shared with her, however, Lindsey wasn’t willing to be sucked in. Not until one or the other of them leveled with her.
“Anything other than that profile and the proximity to the fires that makes you think my students might be involved?”
There was a flash of something in those dark eyes. The emotion was quickly masked, but not fast enough that she didn’t wonder if he was laughing at her reluctance to believe her kids could be involved in something like this.
“Those aren’t enough?” His tone was devoid of sarcasm.
“Not for me, I’m afraid. Look, if I thought any of my students were involved, I might feel differently. But as of now I have no reason to think they are. I’ve had no reason to even think about the possibility until you showed up this morning.”
“And if you did have a reason?”
“I’d talk to someone I trusted about it.”
“Like Dr. Campbell?”
Although Dave hadn’t finished his doctorate, neither of them corrected him. “Only if I couldn’t resolve those feelings in my own mind.” Lindsey said.
“My best advice, Ms. Sloan, is that if you develop ‘those feelings,’ you don’t try to resolve them. Here’s my card. I’d appreciate a call if you have any reason to…shall we say…reflect on the possibility that our profile has merit.”
The phrasing was careful, perhaps intended not to offend. The look in his eyes was not quite in keeping with it.
“Of course.”
Lindsey accepted the card he held out, making a show of looking down at it. The first thing she noted was his first name. Jace. The second thing she noted was something far more disturbing: the fact she had been wondering about that.
Jace Nolan. Who was very obviously from somewhere far from here. And very much outside the norm of men she knew.
She raised her eyes from the card, again finding his on her face. “Is that all?”
“You can call me if you think of anything I should know.”
Not exactly what she’d meant, but clearly a dismissal. She quickly took advantage of it. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
She turned and walked to the door, conscious that they were both watching her. When she’d closed it, she leaned against its solid wood, releasing a breath as she thought about the interview that had just passed.
Before it seemed possible that either of the men inside the room had had time to walk across it, the door opened behind her. Slightly off balanced, she tried to get out of the way of the man who emerged.
“Sorry.” Jace Nolan put his hand under her elbow in an attempt to steady her.
“My fault. I should have moved out of the doorway.”
Now try to explain why you didn’t.
“No harm done. Have a good day, Ms. Sloan.”
With a slight nod, the detective moved past her and walked into the main office. She continued to watch as he disappeared through the door that led out into the lobby.
“Cops after you, Ms. Sloan?”
She turned to see Steven Byrd lifting the American flag off the top shelf of the hall closet where it was kept. One of her seniors, Steven was responsible for putting the stars and stripes up the outside flagpole every morning and taking it down and folding it properly every afternoon. For most of Randolph-Lowen’s students, even some of those in her gifted program, that single act was enough to classify him as a nerd.
“You know him?” she asked, wondering how Steven could be familiar enough with the local police to recognize Nolan.
“I was sitting in my car when he got out of his. County tags. Besides, he looks like a cop. Glad to know my powers of observation are as well-developed as I thought.” Steven grinned at her, blue eyes shining through his glasses.
“So you were guessing.”
“Only until you were kind enough to verify it. What’d you do? Run a red light?”
“Something like that,” she hedged.
Neither Dave nor Nolan had cautioned her to keep what they’d told her to herself, but it wasn’t the kind of thing she would ever share with a student. Not even one like Steven, whom she considered trustworthy.
“Naw, they’d send a uniform for that. So it’s probably not about you. That means it’s about us.”
“Us?”
“Students. Maybe your students? And if I had to guess—”
“I think you’ve done enough guessing,” Lindsey said, putting a hint of classroom firmness into her voice.
It wasn’t lost on Steven. “Okay. I can keep my mouth shut. You know that. I’m not surprised they showed up here.”
Unable to resist, Lindsey asked, “Why?”
“The usual suspects. They always focus on kids for something like that. Especially if the fires are copycat things like the news says.”
The previous spate of fires had been the work of a few college kids without a political agenda. Although those had not focused exclusively on black churches, that was probably a geographical consideration more than anything else. And the three buildings that had been set on fire in this county were the only ones so conveniently isolated.
“Is that what you think?”
“I
