She let out a sigh. “It was a misunderstanding on the part of both instructors. The first who misread my interest in his work as something more personal, and the second who jumped to erroneous conclusions.”
“Names.”
“Van Pierson who taught history, middle grades. I believe he resigned shortly after I left. I’m afraid I don’t know where he went or his position or location at this time. Wyatt Yin, who was young, excitable, and problematic. I believe I heard he decided the rigors of private education weren’t for him after all, and opted to move into public education.”
“Decided that all on his own?”
“That is my recollection. Now, if that’s all.”
“Any other names you can remember? A discarded lover often looks for payback.”
“If you’re intimating I’m in some sort of jeopardy—”
“I’m intimating nothing. I’m saying, very clearly, two people are dead, loved ones of two people some might see as responsible for you leaving Gold and New York—and this lover. We’ve concluded that these murders spring from that.”
“You conclude? Really?” Grange recrossed her legs, twisted her lips into a sneer. “You conclude I’m somehow indirectly responsible for two murders because I exercise my sexual freedom? I take considerable issue with your conclusions, and the hypotheses upon which they’re based. I left Gold eight years ago, cut all ties with the school, with New York. And you, somehow, believe that after eight years someone I may have slept with is punishing those who disagreed with my administrative methods.”
Eve let the silence hang a moment. “In a nutshell.”
On a look—very deliberate—of smug pity, Grange brushed at a wave of her hair. “You had a state-based education, correct, Lieutenant?”
“I did.”
“Then you had, sadly, a bare-bones, limited education. It’s an unfortunate foundation for true critical thinking.”
“You think?” Eve said mildly.
“One rarely finds the brightest minds with such an educational disadvantage. And you, Detective? You were raised and educated by Free-Agers?”
“That’s right.”
“A pity, and a shame your parents didn’t afford you a real education. Being raised in the foster system didn’t allow Lieutenant Dallas much choice regarding her limitations, but your parents, Detective? How foolish and selfish of them to put their own odd lifestyle ahead of the welfare of their children. Still, considering your disadvantages, I suppose you’ve both made the best possible career choice by becoming police officers.”
Eve started to speak, but Peabody jumped to her feet.
“You arrogant, entitled, condescending snob. You think your Ph.D. makes you better? I’ll tell you what I learned in my Free-Ager education. Besides all you teach in a high-priced tomb like this, I learned to plant and harvest, to cook, to weave, to sew. I learned woodworking, mechanics. I learned about compassion and tolerance and kindness.”
“You will watch your tone in my office.”
“No, I won’t. I’m not one of your students or underlings, I’m a New York City police detective, and a New York City cop knows a lying sack when she sees one. So don’t think you’re going to sit there and insult my family, my vocation, or my lieutenant. You aren’t worthy to wipe the boots she’ll kick your ass with.”
When Grange pushed to her feet, so did Eve. And angled between them. “Peabody.”
“I will have your badge!”
“Oh yeah.” Now Peabody sneered. “Try it, sister.”
“Detective Peabody!” Eve added a little elbow poke. “Take a walk. Take a walk, now, Detective.”
With considerable effort, Peabody stepped back. “Yes, sir.”
When Peabody stalked out, Grange turned on Eve. “If you can’t control your subordinates any better than that—”
“Detective Peabody is my partner, and you’re going to be careful, really careful, with what you say about my partner.”
“I want you out of my office and off campus, immediately.”
“No problem. I’ll be sure to address your lack of cooperation in a murder investigation with your board of trustees. I’m sure they’ll be interested,” Eve said as she started for the door. “Like they’re going to be interested in the fact I can and will confirm you were—what was it?—‘engaging in your sexual freedom,’ on school grounds, with subordinates. And quite possibly with parents—like, oh, Brent Whitt over there. Maybe students who struck your fancy when you weren’t ignoring students who didn’t strike your fancy when they were being bullied, threatened, and kicked around.”
“You’re no threat to me.”
“Keep thinking that, because this state-educated cop also went to the NYPSD Academy, and once on the force was trained by the best damn investigator in the department. Here’s a tip, Dr. Grange. You may want to consider retirement. Because I’m coming for you.”
She opened the door, kept it open so her words would carry out. “Oh, one more tip? I wouldn’t open any packages anytime soon. Discarded lovers can turn, and when they do, it gets ugly.”
She stepped out, closed the door.
Mulray sat absolutely still, eyes straight ahead.
“Brent Whitt,” she said, because Grange had gone just as still when Eve mentioned the name. “You think about that. Think about how you work for a liar who doesn’t care about anybody—that would sure as hell include you—as long as she comes out on top.”
Eve moved into the outer office, where both women sat with their mouths open and watched her cross to the door with wide, wide eyes.
As she continued, made the turn out, she watched a man stride briskly toward the headmaster’s office in his dark suit and shiny shoes.
The lawyer, Eve thought as she kept going. Well, Grange would need one, but Eve doubted if she’d end up with one representing the school.
When she stepped out, she saw Peabody pacing the visitor’s lot. Not clumping now, but stomping. And since every few seconds, Peabody waved her arms, shook a fist, Eve imagined her partner replayed the scene in Grange’s office—and added fresh, pithy things she should have said.
Very much still pissed, Eve concluded as she went down the stairs, moved along the walkway.
“So,” Eve began, “I think your intimidated pretense needs some work.”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
She didn’t sound the least bit sorry.
“I couldn’t maintain, not when she’s taking swipes at my family. Bad enough she started on you, but sure, you can handle yourself, but nobody gets away with saying shit like that about my parents, about the job, either. Nobody.”
Eve leaned back against the hood of the car, let Peabody stomp and rant.
“I mean, I don’t give a jumping damn if some asshole on the street calls me whatever, or some fucker in the box goes after me that way. But not my parents, making them sound like they, what, mistreated me or something. Like they’re idiots. And like you’re substandard because you didn’t go to some fancy school like this. Bullshit on that. Just bullshit.”
Eve waited a few seconds. “Are you done yet?”