Brooke closed her eyes, visualizing the cold expression on Manny's face that morning. She doubted anyone would be able to pry anything out of Manny now. "Secrest," she said and shivered hard, "I've honestly told you everything I can." The two detectives shared a glance and Lieutenant Solliday nodded.

"All right, Miss Adler," the detective said. "Let's go talk to Dr. Bixby."

Wednesday, November 29, 1:30 P.M.

Bixby was waiting for them in the lobby. The look he shot Adler was cold and Mia couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the woman.

He led them to an office as rich as the waiting room had been sparse. He gestured to leather chairs around a mahogany conference table. Two men were already seated. One was in his mid-forties with a kindly face. The other looked like he bashed in walls with his bald head for fun. "Dr. Julian Thompson and Mr. Bart Secrest," Bixby said.

The nice-faced one rose, a smile creasing his face. Immediately Mia distrusted him as much as Bixby. "I'm Dr. Thompson, the school's counselor."

Secrest just scowled and said nothing.

"Sit," Bixby said. He drummed his fingers while he waited for them to do so. Mia took a few extra seconds, just to watch Bixby frown. Finally she sat next to him.

Mia looked at each of the men. "Who is the student and where are the articles?"

The counselor hid his flinch, but not well. Secrest continued to scowl.

"We investigated the student and saw no need to pursue the matter. Miss Adler felt some… personal need to view the scene herself, likely due to her sense of compassion for the victims. Isn't that right, Miss Adler?" Bixby asked.

Adler nodded, unsteadily. "Yes, sir."

Mia smiled. "Uh huh. You're contracted by the state, aren't you Dr. Bixby? Subject to state audits and surprise visits by the licensing board?"

Bixby's jaw tightened. "Please don't threaten me. Detective."

Mia looked at Solliday, amused. "I'm starting to hear an echo. So many people telling me not to threaten them."

"Maybe because everyone we've talked to knows something we needed to know, but didn't want to tell us," he said, very quietly. Almost ominously. His tone was perfect.

"That must be it." She leaned forward, sliding her palm flat on the table until she could look up into Bixby's face. It was a power-shifting move that she normally found very effective. Judging by the annoyed flicker in Bixby's eyes, it was effective once more. "I wonder what you know, Dr. Bixby. You said you investigated. I assume this means you didn't think this student was clipping articles for a school book report.''

"As I told Miss Adler," Solliday said in the same ominous tone, "we have two women in the morgue. Our patience is thin. If your student is not involved, we'll be on our way. If he is, he's a danger to the rest of your students. You don't want that kind of publicity."

A muscle in Bixby's jaw twitched and Mia knew Solliday had hit the right chord. "The student does not leave this facility. There is no way he could be involved."

"All right," Mia said, relaxing. "Tell us about the facility. Do all students live here?"

"Twenty percent are day students," Dr. Thompson said. "The rest are residential."

Mia smiled. "Residential. That means they're locked up?"

Thompson's returned smile was strained. "It means they can't leave. They are not locked in cells as they would be in a jail, no."

Mia widened her eyes. "You never let them outside?" She blinked. "Ever?"

Bixby's eyes flashed. "Residential students are given supervised time outdoors."

"The exercise yard," Mia said and Bixby's cheeks burned. Mia held up her hand. "I know, this isn't a jail. But your neighbors wouldn't be happy to know that a possible murderer was right here, less than a mile from their homes. From their children."

"Because there isn't," Bixby said tightly. "I've told you already."

"And we heard you the first time," Solliday said mildly. He looked over at Mia, one dark brow lifted. "You know you did promise Carmichael she'd be the first to know."

She beamed at him, in perfect accord. "Yes, I did."

Secrest leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "That's extortion."

"Who is Carmichael?" Bixby asked.

"The reporter who wrote the article in yesterday's Bulletin," Secrest said.

Thompson's mouth fell open. "You can't give false information."

Mia shrugged. "She asks me where I've been. I'll tell her I've been here. No lie. Sometimes she even follows me around, looking for news. She might be outside your gates as we speak. I guess as publicity goes, that would suck. The whole not-in-my-backyard thing and all." She stared Bixby down. "And your total lack of cooperation will affect your standing with the state. I'll see that it does."

Bixby looked ready to explode. He hit a button on the intercom. "Marcy, pull Manuel Rodriguez's file." He jabbed the button. "I hope you're satisfied."

"I hope I am, too," Mia said with all sincerity. "So do the families of my two victims."

Thompson's face had gone florid. "Manny's an innocent young man."

Mia lifted her brows. "He's here, Dr. Thompson. He's obviously not that innocent."

"He didn't set these fires," Thompson insisted.

"You searched Manny's room, Mr. Secrest?" Solliday asked, ignoring the counselor.

"I did." Secrest's eyes were like stone.

Mia lifted her brows. "And?"

"And I found a book of matches."

"Were any missing?" Solliday pressed. "And to save us time, if yes, how many?"

"Several. But the matchbook had been used by someone else."

She noticed a twitch in Thompson's cheek. "Do you know where he got them?" she asked. From the corner of her eye she saw Secrest roll his eyes.

"He took them from Dr. Thompson's office," Secrest said. "He smokes a pipe."

Mia leaned back in her chair. "Bring Mr. Rodriguez to us, please." Everyone stood. "Miss Adler, please remain." She looked at Bixby. "Alone."

When the doors were closed, Mia turned to Adler who was pale. "Now tell us why you went to Penny Hill's house."

She licked her lips. "I told you. I was curious. Because of the articles."

Solliday shook his head. "No. We saw you, Miss Adler, on the video. You didn't look curious. You looked like you felt guilty."

"It was the book." In her eyes Mia saw pure, unadulterated misery. "I assigned Lord of the Flies right before Thanksgiving. Right before the first fire." She pursed her lips hard. "Right before the first woman was killed."

"Interesting timing," Solliday murmured. "Still, why go to the victim's house?"

"I needed to know what the police knew. To know if I'd done… caused…"

Mia frowned at Solliday. "I'm missing the connection to the book," she murmured.

"Lord of the Flies," he murmured back. "Teens stranded on an island without adults descend into anarchy. They have a signal fire. Later they burn most of the island down."

"Oh. Dots connected." Mia turned her attention back to Adler who sat quietly, tears running down her face. "Was that really a good choice of a book here?"

"Dr. Bixby approved it, encouraged it even. He wanted to observe the students' reactions. I offered to assign a different one, but Julian said it would be useful in Manny's therapy." She struggled for control. "All I could think was 'What if I caused him to do this? What if my book gave him the idea?' And then there was another fire and another woman died. What if those women are dead because I got him started?"

Solliday sighed. "If Manny did this, you are not responsible, Miss Adler."

"I'll believe you when you find out who really did it. Can I go now?"

"Sure," Mia said, more inclined to be gentle now. "Don't leave town, okay?"