Page 13 of High Treason
Thunder split his eardrum.
HPD cleared the rooftop.
“I want to finish up here,” she said. “And hope our bosses won’t be replacing our fried bodies with another team.”
Within minutes, the clouds exploded, raindrops pelting them like tiny stones. They spent a few more minutes on the roof. The clothing fibers were all they found.
Once they descended the stairs to the ground floor, they shook off the water drenching them and walked a hallway leading to a side entrance. “The interviews won’t be released until late tonight or tomorrow, and we won’t be the ones conducting them,” he said.
“What do you say about checking out the physical fitness building behind us?”
“Any particular reason?”
“A hunch. Saw cars parked beside the building when we arrived.”
The closer they walked, the more the sound of voices and the rhythmic pounding of a ball captured his attention. “Why are kids in the gym if the school was evacuated?”
“Good question.”
They walked to the gym door, and he opened it for her to enter. The scent of sweating teen boys playing basketball brought back memories, the steady thump of the ball and sitting on the bench. Two coaches worked the boys on either end of the court, one layup after another.
Kord and Monica walked the sideline to one of the coaches, a man built like an outhouse. “My partner and I are investigating a shooting from the school roof. Is there a reason why the boys haven’t been dismissed?”
“We have permission from HPD. This area has been cleared.” The coach never took his eyes off the players. “We have play-offs and gotta have the practice if we’re going to walk away with a trophy.”
If Kord hadn’t needed info, he’d have questioned the coach’spriorities. The players’ parents would handle his stupidity of putting their kids in potential danger. “Mind if we talk to the boys?”
“We’re almost finished. Fifteen more minutes.”
Great. School pride wins.
Monica strutted her wet stuff onto the gym floor. She waved her hands. “Hey, guys, can I have your attention for a few minutes?”
Every boy and two coaches were glued to the petite blonde. Admiration rose for his partner. Not that he doubted her abilities—she was quickly earning his respect.
“Y’all are aware a hit man found a way to the roof of your school and murdered a man across the street. Did any of you see anything? A stranger on the grounds carrying the means to assemble a rifle?”
“Listen up,” a second coach said. “This is important. Police officers asked us the same things, and none of us came forward. Think about this morning. Now’s the time to speak up.”
The boys shook their heads. One continued to bounce a ball.
“Have you talked to the janitors?” the second coach said to Monica.
“We will. Wanted to check with your players first.”
A leggy boy stepped forward. “I might have information for you. I had an orthodontist appointment this morning and got to school late. I saw a man carrying a toolbox. Not walking toward the construction site. He asked me how to find the janitors’ office. Probably nothin’.”
“Can you describe him?” Kord said.
“Jeans, baseball cap, button-down shirt. Maybe five foot seven.”
“Race?”
The kid hesitated. “Kinda Hispanic, but not black. Slight accent.”
“What kind?” Kord said.
He shrugged.
