TRACE EVIDENCE Read Free

There are bits of fur embedded in the marks, so that will make identification easier."
    Apparently he'd talked himself out, because for the next hour he didn't say another word. That was fine with Tamara. Silence never bothered her. Her parents had taught her as a child that silence was to be respected and revered. It was a time to observe and learn from what was inside you and what surrounded you.
    Clay James was far more interesting to watch than listening to her inner thoughts. He radiated a fierce intensity, a focus that was assuring. She had no doubt that his expertise and tenacity would eventually identify the culprit.
    "That's all I can do here," he finally said as he packed up his samples and tools. "Have you spoken to Will Nichols and let him know what's going on?"
    Will Nichols was the principal of the high school. "Yes, I called him. He stopped by earlier, saw the damage and told me to keep him posted."
    "You won't be teaching in this room any time soon. I want it left locked for the next couple of days in case I need to come back and take some more samples."
    "I noticed you didn't try to get any fingerprints."
    His jaw muscle tightened, as if he thought she was questioning his expertise. "It's pointless to print a room where so many people pass through on a regular basis. If this had been a murder scene, or the scene of an assault, then I might have considered it. But this room could potentially hold the prints of students that had passed through over the years. It would take us months to find out who they belong to." His gaze was cold as it met hers. "Is there anything else you think I've forgotten?"
    Prickly, she thought. Definitely prickly. "Officer James, I wouldn't begin to tell you how to do your job. Just as I wouldn't expect you to come into my classroom and take over my job." She offered him a smile. "I just watch a lot of television and it seems on the crime shows everyone is always talking fingerprints."
    He grabbed his kit and walked toward where she stood in the doorway. "You shouldn't believe everything you see on TV."
    He turned off the light in the room and watched as she locked the door. "I have a spare key." She fumbled with her key chain until she worked a key off the ring. She held it out to him. "This way if you need to get back inside, day or night, you have access as long as somebody can unlock the front school door for you."
    He took the key from her and slid it into the back pocket of his tight jeans. Together they walked down the silent hallway toward the stairs. Ed and Burt had both stuck their heads in the classroom earlier to tell Clay they'd questioned Vernon and they were leaving.
    Vernon Colby was waiting for them by the front door. "Damn fool kids … nothing but meanness in them nowadays," he muttered as he unlocked the door for Clay and Tamara to exit.
    Night had fallen outside and overhead the bright, sparkly stars were companions to a three-quarter moon. Parked in the lot were two vehicles, the van that Clay had driven and the rusted-out pickup that belonged to Vernon .
    "Where's your car?" he asked.
    "I don't drive to school," she replied. "I always walk to and from work. It's just a little over a mile walk."
    He raked a hand through his thick hair and stared out into the darkness of the night. "I'll drive you home." It was obvious it wasn't something he particularly looked forward to doing.
    "That isn't necessary," she demurred. "I'm used to walking home and the darkness doesn't frighten me."
    "It should," he snapped. "You should be afraid of what the darkness holds. People can be perfectly safe in their own homes one minute, then dead or missing in the next."
    She knew that he was talking about what happened to his parents and her heart went out to him. But she had a feeling that Clay James was a man who didn't appreciate empty platitudes.
    "Thank you, I'll accept the offer of a ride home," she said.
    He opened the passenger door for her and she slid inside. The interior of