Jenna drew a careful breath. Counted to ten. Casey meant well. In fact, every one of her friends and family that told her to start living her life again meant well. "I have a very full life, Casey," she said evenly. "I don't need a steady stream of men on my arm to fill it any further."

"No, you don't need a stream of men," Casey agreed quietly. "One would be enough."

Jenna laughed, a hollow sound. "And I suppose you're going to find him for me?"

Casey just looked at her in that way that cut through every defensive layer Jenna possessed. "So how about dinner on Sunday night? Or Monday or Tuesday?"

Jenna sighed. "You're not going to give up, are you?"

Casey's smile was triumphant. "Nope."

"Where are we going?"

"Italian. New place off Capitol. Be there at seven on Sunday?"

Jenna didn't need to check her calendar to know she was free. Sunday nights normally found her in bed by nine with a good suspense novel, her two dogs curled up beside her. Who knew? Maybe this friend of Ned's would provide a pleasant evening of company. "Okay. But I'll drive myself so I can leave when I want to." Jenna glanced at her watch and gri-maced. "Shit. Now I'm late. You go ahead and if you see anyone remotely resembling a parent in the lobby, pass by without a smile or a nod. Understand?"

"Yeah. Spoilsport." Casey started out the door, then turned around, an uncertain expression on her pixie face. "Hey, Jen? Did you say Brad's dad is a cop?"

Something in Casey's face made Jenna's hands still. "Yeah? Why?"

"Ask him if he knows anything about the missing girls."

A feeling of dread settled in the pit of Jenna's stomach. "What missing girls? Last I heard there was only one missing girl-the one from High Point High that they found dead on Tuesday."

"There's another," Casey murmured. "This one from DuVal High. It's been all over the news since last night."

Jenna bit her lip. "I had karate last night and went right to bed when I came home. I didn't see the news. God, Casey, two girls? We need to warn our kids."

"Lucas says he'll make an announcement on Monday telling all the girls to be careful," Casey said. "So ask Brad's dad if he knows anything more, okay? Anything we can do to keep our girls safe."

"I will." Jenna glanced at her watch again. "But I can't if I don't meet him in three minutes. Go on now. I'll call you if I learn anything new."

Now subdued, Jenna checked the lock on the chemical closet, locked the door of her classroom, adjusted the straps of both her purse and her packed-full briefcase, and set out for the front lobby at the fastest pace her high heels would allow.

"Dr. Marshall, can I talk to you?"

Jenna looked over as eleventh-grader Kelly Templeton fell in step beside her as she hurried down the stairs. "If you can run with me, you can."

Kelly hastened her step. "It's about my test. I should get partial credit on four problems."

Kelly Templeton always thought she should get partial credit. Rarely did Jenna agree. "Tell you what, Kelly. You come by Monday morning and we'll talk. Right now, I'm in a rush."

"But Monday morning I have a cheerleading meeting."

"I can talk at lunch on Monday, then. Just not now." She softened her refusal with a smile. "You got a ninety-two, Kelly. How much more partial credit can you expect?"

"Eight more points," Kelly muttered, then tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder. "All right, Dr. Marshall. Monday at lunch." She veered off toward the lockers without a goodbye.

"Kelly?" Jenna called and Kelly looked back, impatience on her young face. "Be careful, okay? Miss Ryan just told me there's a second missing girl."

Kelly's eyes grew large. "Oh, wow. Which school?'"

"DuVal."

Kelly bit her lip. "That's close. I know kids at DuVal." Then a beat later her expression brightened as she shook off the worry as only a teenager could. "See ya, Dr. Marshall."

And watching her flounce away, Jenna turned for the lobby at a quick clip on aching feet, wishing she had a tenth of the sixteen-year-old girl's energy.

"Dr. Marshall, may I speak with you for a moment?"

Jenna skidded to a stop, this time at the sound of the principal's voice, wincing when her ankle wobbled in her damn high heels. Last time she'd go shopping with Casey, she thought irritably, resisting the urge to hop on one foot and massage her ankle. Drawing in a breath to slow her racing pulse, she turned to find Dr. Blackman standing near the office door, his expression grim. Distaste instantly bubbled up at the sight of him. He was an overtly political man and… sleazy.

"I'm late for a parent conference, Dr. Blackman. Can I meet you when I'm finished?" By that point it would be after five on a Friday. Blackman would be long gone by then, sitting on the front bleacher of the football game scheduled to begin in less than an hour.

"This can't wait, Dr. Marshall," he answered, his voice glacial. "Come with me, please." And without waiting for her response, he turned crisply on his heel.

Jenna searched the front lobby. No one resembling a parent waited, so she bit back her annoyance and followed Blackman into his office, hoping whatever was so cata-clysmically important would also be short.

A man waited in Blackman's office, staring out the window with his back to them. He was huge, his shoulders at least two feet wide. A black fedora covered his head, a black overcoat draped over one arm. Jenna raised a brow at the sight of the coat. It was brisk for fall in North Carolina, but the coat was surely overkill. Then he turned and Jenna's heart stopped for the briefest of instants at the expression in his narrowed black eyes, the clench of his square jaw. His very body seemed to vibrate although he stood perfectly still.

He was angry. He was angry with her. And she was sure she'd never met the man before.

Dr. Blackman closed the door. "Dr. Marshall, this is Mr. Lutz. I take it you've met before?"

Oh, God, Jenna thought, her pulse scrambling now. Lutz. The father of the star quarterback of the high school team. The star quarterback who'd be warming the bench until he brought his grade in her science class up to at least a C. It was school policy, she thought a little frantically as her brain reacted to her last conversation with Mr. Lutz. He'd been furious that she'd given his son's last test a failing grade. He'd called her foul names. She'd shaken for a full hour after hanging up the phone. He was staring at her now from beneath the brim of the fedora, his eyes oddly gleaming.

He thinks he's won, Jenna thought, a spurt of anger supplanting the fear. He thinks he's got me cowed. He'll think again. "We've spoken on the telephone, briefly," she said, gratified her voice was cool and steady. Grimly satisfied that at just over six feet tall in her four-inch heels she didn't have to look up to meet the arrogant you-know-what eye to eye. "Mr. Lute's son, Rudy, is in my second period science class." Remedial science, she added mentally, then aloud, "When he chooses to come to class, that is. He is currently failing."

Lutz's dark eyes flashed and his nostrils flared. "My son has been suspended from the team."

"As dictated by school policy," Jenna supplied smoothly. And waited for Blackman to back her.

And waited. The silence became stifling as she and Lutz continued to lock glares.

"Perhaps young Rudy's test could be given another look," Blackman suggested from behind her, his tone artificially mild. "Perhaps his answers might have been… misinterpreted."

Jenna slowly turned her head and stared at Blackman, for a moment too appalled for words. "It was a multiple choice and true-false test," she said coldly. "You know, true or false. A, B, C, or none of the above. Misinterpretation would be difficult especially since Rudy wrote nothing but his name on the paper. He didn't even try to guess. Rudy failed the test, Dr. Blackman. Just like he failed the one before it. He failed because he never comes to class and when he does he sits in the back and flirts." With any girl whose self-esteem is low enough to be impressed, she added to herself, then drew a careful breath. "His grade stands."