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checked the keys and said she didn’t think they were Celeste’s, but Mrs. Pinkerman had already called you.”

“Huh. Because the way you said ‘I realized’ made me think that you came to the conclusion, on your own, that those were the wrong keys. Did you somehow recognize them as different before Alma arrived?” He tapped his chin. “To be frank, I’m surprised how much you ladies know about each other’s keyrings.”

She tugged at her collar. “Alma said that Celeste’s keys had a charm on the keyring and the designer’s name engraved—”

“Yes. Alma said. But I’m asking did you realize, before Alma told you, that the keys did not belong to Celeste?”

“Gosh. I guess, yes, maybe, possibly. In hindsight, it seems so obvious. Why? Is that important?”

“Sometimes little things matter.” The man was a human lie detector—no electrodes required. She’d bet a year’s supply of glue sticks he knew she’d recognized that the keys were different. But she was beginning to get the feeling he hadn’t seen her taking the keys on the security footage. If he had, he would’ve confronted her by now. Maybe, somehow, she’d gotten lucky. Maybe the camera hadn’t been aimed as perfectly as she’d thought.

“How do you think those keys wound up on your desk?” he asked.

“I wish I knew.” He had no idea how badly. “Do you think it means something? Since the keys don’t belong to Celeste, I wasn’t sure it mattered.”

It mattered very much to her, but she could hardly explain why to him.

“What’s your other news?”

Typical of him to stonewall when she asked the questions, though she ought to be glad they were changing topics, moving on to matters that might actually lead them somewhere important. Still, she hesitated, remembering the way Ruth’s face had screwed up when Mia brought up Paul and Celeste, like she was either going to burst into tears or spit in Mia’s eye. “I feel terrible mentioning this, but I have some information. There’s a rumor going around. I don’t know how it got started, or if it’s true, but the word at school is that one of the dads was interested in Celeste.”

“Who?”

“Paul Hudson.”

“Interested how? Were they dating?”

“He’s married, I’m afraid.”

“So they were having an affair.”

“No. Supposedly it was one-sided. Paul kept turning up the same places as Celeste, putting the moves on and so forth.”

“And you heard this from whom?”

“I overheard it a while back. I’m not sure who was talking. I was in the teachers’ lounge. But I’m not in on the gossip so I didn’t hang around and join in.”

“And you and Celeste weren’t close, so she didn’t confide in you. Have I got that right?”

She didn’t love his tone. “Right.”

He straightened. “Do you think that’s what upset Celeste?”

“When?”

“During our last interview, you said you saw Celeste in the teachers’ lounge on Friday morning, and she’d seemed like she’d been crying. You also said you didn’t know why. So I’m wondering if, upon further consideration, you think she might’ve been upset over this problem with Paul Hudson.”

She hadn’t put that together but… “Maybe that was it. That would make sense.”

“Uh-huh.” He rapped his knuckle on the desk.

Was that a signal?

Would someone burst in and start playing bad cop?

Not that Samuels had been playing good cop.

A beat passed and no one showed up.

Samuels got to his feet. “That’ll be all.”

He was dismissing her without pressing her. She’d said she’d overheard a rumor about Paul Hudson, but she didn’t know where, and Samuels had simply accepted that lame answer. “Are you taking this seriously? Are you going to look into what I just told you?”

“I will. Just like I looked into the Shoshanna story.”

She lifted half out of her seat. “You talked to her? What did she say?”

He picked up his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder, looking like a movie detective lounging there with such panache.

“Please. I would really appreciate it if you’d tell me what she said about Celeste, unless it would compromise the case, of course. I’m the one who told you about the club. I think it’s a fair question.”

“It won’t harm the case. So, all right, no reason for me not to disclose. Shoshanna said she saw someone who looked like Celeste, but she’s not sure. That ‘sighting’ happened around two weeks ago, and she doesn’t know anything else. Doesn’t remember anything out of the ordinary about the woman who may or may not have been Celeste Cooper. She was keyed up when you came in with the missing person posters, and thought, just in case, she should say something.”

“Are you going to follow it up? I told Angelica, and she agrees it’s out of character for Celeste to go to a strip club.”

“There’s not much to follow up on. When did you speak with Angelica about this? I thought you hadn’t told anyone else.”

“I was with Angelica yesterday…”

He dropped back into his chair and sent her a look that made her shrink back into hers. “Uh-huh. And you had dinner with the Coopers the other night, went to church with Alma—that was quite a show you put on for the cameras.”

“It wasn’t a show.” She didn’t care what he thought of her, but she did care whether or not he planned to take action. “Will you or won’t you check out Paul Hudson?”

“I’m leaving no stone unturned.” His tone had finality to it, and he did his “conversation-over” tongue click. She’d heard him say the same words and do the same thing before—that day when Alma had pressed him in the classroom.

Perhaps he’d gotten all he needed from this interview, but she hadn’t.

And she didn’t intend to leave this room until she did. “I guess you police have that no-stone-unturned thing on auto-responder.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a married man stalking a woman who’s now missing.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m talking about my mother’s case. The detectives told my aunt they left no stone unturned, but I don’t believe that’s true. You said

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