Hyer glanced back inside. "Must've been damn unhappy with her grade point average."
"School's a bitch. You've been sheriff a number of years. How many times have you been called out here?"
He had a thin mouth, but there was considerable charm in it when it curved up slow. "This would make one. Been out off duty plenty of times. The theater puts on plays three, four times a year. Open to the public. My wife likes that kind of thing. And they have a garden tour every spring. She usually drags me to that."
"Does it seem odd to you that in all this time, you never got a call about some homesick kid climbing over the wall. Or a theft, an unattended death, vandalism."
"Maybe it has. But I can't come out and complain they're not making trouble."
"You ever know of one of the girls hooking up with a local boy, or going into town and getting into trouble?"
"Nope. They don't go in, and yeah, I figured it odd. Enough that when my wife dragged me out here, I poked around a little, asked some questions. Nothing to go on," he said with another glance around. "Nothing but a gut thing, you get me?"
"Yeah, I get you."
"But it's a snooty school and we're small change, so there's nothing I can pin that gut thing on. Now, there's been a few times some of the young boys tried to get in, over the wall, over the gate. That's natural enough. Security picks them up before they get on the grounds. I'm giving, New York," he added. "I don't feel like I'm getting."
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you much. I'm under Code Blue."
Now his eyes widened. "That's higher than I expected."
"I can tell you we have strong reasons to believe that there's more going on here than education. Your gut's not wrong, Sheriff. I need to let my team loose. I need to see the security discs and the student records. I need to interview witnesses."
"Give me something more. Show of faith."
"Wilfred Icove was murdered by a woman who attended this institution and subsequently vanished. There are no records of her after that date, and no missing persons was filed. We believe her official data was fabricated, by or with the knowledge of her victim. We believe she killed, or had a part in killing Wilfred Icove, Jr. And that she and an accomplice just dumped this homicide in your lap. This school is the breeding ground for that. I don't think she's finished. I think there's data here that will help us both. I'll give you everything I'm authorized to give. And when I'm able to give you more, you'll get that, too."
"You think this place is some sort of cult?"
"Not that simple. I've got two doctors with me. They could examine some of the students. One is a licensed counselor. She could help them with the trauma of the situation."
"They got doctors and counselors on staff."
"I'd like ours to handle it."
"All right."
"Thanks. Peabody, brief the team. You can help Sheriff Hyer with the ID match shortly. Have Roarke meet me at the scene in ten."
She studied the security vid. It was a good alteration, Eve decided. The hair was so bold, it drew the eye, and the face was fuller. Softer. Cooler skin tone, different eye color. Shape of the mouth, too. Must've used an appliance for that.
"It's her," Eve said. "If you weren't expecting her, if you weren't looking, you wouldn't make her. She's good. You'll want to run the program to be sure-and you've got her hands, her ears-but that's her."
Or maybe one of her, Eve thought. How could she be sure?
"Vic doesn't make her," Eve added. "It's all.. ."
She trailed off, staring as Diana Rodriguez came down the stairs on the vid.
What was it like, she wondered, to see yourself walking toward you. The child you were.
She thought of herself at that age. A loner, marking time, with so many wounds under the mask it was a wonder she hadn't bled to death.
She'd been nothing like this beautiful young girl who stopped and appeared to speak politely to the older women. Nothing near as poise; nothing near as confident.
Eve swallowed the exclamation when she saw Deena's and Diana’s eyes meet.
She knows. The kid knows.