Page 15 of Midnight Secrets

“Thanks, Nina. I appreciate it.”

She gave me another sunny smile. “You’re welcome. Now, shoo.” Making a quick flicking motion with her hand, she glanced at the door. “We both have work to do.”

Chuckling, I got up. “Yes, ma’am.”

Leaving her to it, I went back to my desk just off the main squad room. With a few strokes on the keyboard, I logged in and went straight to the warrant database. Fingers crossed, I searched for the ones I filed.

In seconds, they popped up, both showing an active status.

“Awesome,” I muttered. Saving the files to my computer, I went about requesting the Hammonds’ financial and phone records. It would be a day or so before those came back. But that was fine. I planned to interview her co-workers today. I needed to talk to Warren Hammond’s work colleagues as well. He was still missing.

Their house had yielded scant clues. Many of their belongings were already packed away and with a moving company, ready to be shipped to Boston. What was left in the house were everyday items, like clothing and just enough dishes to get them through. All the art on the walls was gone, and they had nothing stored in the house. It was like walking into the most basic model home you could find. If there were clues to her murder, it wouldn’t come from their house.

Picking up a legal pad, I clipped a pen to my collar and headed out.

The drive to the school wasn’t long. Within twenty minutes, I pulled off the main road and into the parking lot.

Parking near the main entrance, I got out and went into the vestibule. A camera and intercom system on the wall near theinner doors had a label underneath that read, “Press button for front desk.”

I pushed the button.

It rang, then a woman’s voice came over the speaker.

“Yes?”

I held up my badge to the camera lens. “I’m Detective Quartermaine from the state police. I need to speak to your principal.”

“Oh. Is this about Marie?”

“It is.” I wasn’t surprised she knew. We hadn’t notified the school, but it was a small town. The news was probably all over by lunch yesterday.

The door buzzed. “Come in.”

I pulled it open. Looking left, then right in the hallway, I spotted the office to the right. Through the glass-walled entrance, I saw a woman peering at me from behind a desk.

Letting myself in, I gave her my most charming smile, hoping to put her at ease. “Good morning.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Good morning. If you want to have a seat, I’ll let Pat know you’re here.” She picked up the phone on her desk.

I eyed the black, hard plastic chairs pushed against the far wall. “I’ll stand, but thank you.” I crossed my arms, notepad in hand, while she made the call.

A trill came from behind a closed door down the short hallway behind her. It stopped a moment before the secretary spoke.

“There’s a detective here to talk to you about Marie.” The woman kept her voice soft, but in the small space, there was no privacy.

“Okay.” She hung up and looked at me. “She’ll be out in a moment.”

“Thank you.”

True to her word, a blonde woman in her fifties emerged about twenty seconds later. Rounding the desk, she held out a hand with a polite smile. “I’m Pat Byron.”

“Oscar Quartermaine.” I shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, though I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”

Her expression turned pinched. “Me too. Let’s go in my office, shall we?” She motioned down the hall.

Following her down the short corridor, she led me into a well-appointed, though tight, space. I sat on the comfortable, upholstered brown chair in front of her desk and laid my notepad down.

She sat down in her black leather desk chair. “How can I help you, Detective? What happened to Marie is just dreadful. We’re all in shock.”

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