My Private Detective. Rebecca Winters

sense all kinds of tension coming from her.

      “I’ll read it and get it back to you in our next class with some comments.”

      “Thank you.” The words were whispered.

      He had to forcibly look away from her before he could gather his thoughts.

      “We’re going to need Emily’s input before I can give you tonight’s assignment. You can stay at your seat to do this, Emily. Will you describe the office where the body was found in your story? Be particular. Do it slowly so everyone can get down all the facts.”

      When Emily had given them a detailed picture, he said, “Good. Now that we can see the room in our minds, this is your assignment. Make as many trips through the office as necessary to come up with a list for getting forensic evidence—taking photographs, fingerprint testing and so on. I’ll come up with a similar list.

      “On Friday I’ll ask you to share yours before I pass out a copy of mine. The writer whose list comes closest to mine will receive a prize.”

      A burst of approval resounded in the room, and then the bell rang.

      “Let me remind you again of Daniel Mcfarlane’s rule—Never assume anything.”

      “We won’t!” most of them replied.

      To his surprise he saw Heidi slip out the door. Clearly she’d decided not to stay and straighten the room. He guessed that, for some reason, she’d wanted to get away from him.

      There was nothing Gideon would have liked more than to run after her, but Kevin’s presence ruled out that desire.

      “Let’s go, Dad.”

      “Help me turn the desks around first.”

      Together they made quick work of it. Gideon grabbed his things, and once he’d turned off the lights and locked up, they were off.

      “I’ll turn in the attendance roll for you,” Kevin said.

      “Thanks. Meet me at the car.”

      Gideon rushed outside, hoping to talk to Heidi for a moment before she left the faculty parking lot. Unfortunately, her Audi was nowhere to be found.

      Since she’d made it impossible to get an answer to the questions nagging him, he’d go to the one source who would know if the name Turner held particular significance. Daniel Mcfarlane.

      After he took Kevin back to his mother’s, he’d swing by Daniel’s house. His mentor had come home from the hospital on Monday; according to his wife, he was feeling good and craving a report on the class.

      “Dad? How come that writer didn’t tell us how her mystery ended? Don’t you have to know the end so you can plant clues?”

      When did Kevin get so smart?

      “Heidi Ellis isn’t a writer,” he said. “She’s a geography teacher. That’s her classroom we’re using.”

      “Hmm. She’s got some interesting pictures on the back wall.” He turned his head in Gideon’s direction.

      “Do you think she gets her hair dyed?”

      Stifling his laughter, he said, “I don’t think it’s possible to manufacture that shade of red, do you?”

      “I guess not. She’s good-looking for a teacher.”

      She’s good-looking, period, sport. Take it from a man who knows.

      “But if she’s got a son with red hair, I feel sorry for him.”

      “How come? You wouldn’t look half bad with that color,” Gideon teased.

      “No, thanks!”

      “So how did the homework go?”

      “I finished it.”

      “Good for you.” Gideon made a right turn and drove halfway down the street before he stopped in front of the house. “Here we are. Your mom’s left the porch light on for you.”

      “I wish I could sleep over with you and Pokey.”

      “So do I.” He leaned across the seat to give his boy a hug. “I’ll see you on Friday at six-thirty sharp.”

      Kevin clung to him. “Love you, Dad.”

      “I love you, too, son. Have a good day tomorrow.”

      Saying good-night to his son was always wrenching. Gideon watched until Kevin was safely in the house, then headed for Daniel’s home in Del Mar Heights.

      Twenty minutes later Ellen showed him into the house. He found Daniel lying on the couch in his study watching TV. To Gideon’s relief, the operation didn’t seem to have set his friend back much. He hoped the chemo wouldn’t be too hard on Daniel.

      “Gideon! What took you so long?”

      He smiled at Daniel as he sat down in the over-stuffed chair next to him. “I think you’re a fake. You don’t look or act like someone who just got out of the hospital.”

      “I feel good.”

      “He says that now that you’re here, Gideon. Can I bring you some iced tea or a cup of coffee?”

      “Iced tea sounds wonderful. Thanks, Ellen.”

      “What about you?” she asked her husband.

      “Nothing for me, honey.” When she left, he said, “Tell me how the class is going.”

      “I have to admit I’m enjoying it more than I would’ve imagined. They’re a smart group. So far, they’ve picked up on everything, and they do their homework with an enthusiasm you wouldn’t believe. I guess that’s what being a writer is all about.”

      “Good!” Daniel sighed. “I knew it was asking a lot of you to take over for me. I have to tell you I’m delighted to hear you’re not ready to give up yet.”

      “Far from it.” Heidi Ellis’s emotional rendering continued to bother him. He reached into his pocket for her synopsis and handed it to Daniel.

      “A new woman joined the class on Friday night. She’s not really a writer, but she insisted on doing a synopsis, anyway. I want you to take a look at it.”