Dark Venom by Dianne McCartney

Author:Dianne McCartney [McCartney, Dianne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller; police procedural; suspense; murder; serial killer; detective; trilogy
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2022-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The next morning dawned a little too early for anyone’s liking. The long hours were taking their toll. Instead of working on a divide and conquer format, Elijah wanted Sanchez beside him during their school visits. Two sets of eyes and ears could be helpful. They edged their way through the last of the morning rush hour traffic. The first school they visited was St. Andrews, crammed on three city blocks downtown. Parking in a crowded lot, they made their way inside. They ducked around groups of kids milling the halls and located the front office. At the reception desk, they introduced themselves to the seated woman inside and asked where they could find Thomas Hatcher, the theater teacher who’d taught Cathy Redding. The plump, gray-haired receptionist gave a wide smile. “He should be in his office at this time of day. Let me check.”

Elijah smiled. “If you can just tell me his room number, we can find our way.”

“I’d like to do that, but we have to check in with the principal first. It’s protocol.”

She stood and led the way to the door. The principal, an older woman with a stern visage, had the unfortunate name of Ms. Peony Meanie. Her expression was enough to make him fear detention for the first time in his life. They explained the situation to her and she said nothing except, “Okay, you have my permission to proceed.” He wondered for a moment if she’d been in the army, judging by her attitude and her painfully correct posture. After getting her permission, she escorted them out of the office and watched their progress down the hall with suspicion.

With the room number provided, they walked down the long corridor, ignoring the curious glances of a few remaining students who weren’t already in class. Long lines of battle-scarred metal lockers lined the halls, some creative suggestions scrawled in red marker on the doors. The fluorescent lights above exposed the expected wear and tear from years of students. Murmurs from the various classrooms could be heard. According to the rectangular plate by the entrance, the last room on the left belonged to Hatcher. They stopped to knock on the heavy oak door. “Come in,” a deep masculine voice responded.

Elijah swung the door open, allowing Sanchez to precede him. A man approximately Elijah’s age stood to greet them, smiling. His thick chestnut hair swept off his face in a deliberate, sculpted wave. His ocean blue eyes sparkled. “Hello,” he said stretching his arm over the desk to shake hands with firm confidence. “I’m Thomas Hatcher. How can I help you?”

Elijah introduced themselves, and their identification made the skin on his forehead wrinkle. “When the front office called to say you were on the way, I must say my curiosity was piqued. We’re not in any trouble, I hope.”

“Not at all.” They took seats in the makeshift wooden chairs, and the teacher followed their example. “Your principal indicated that you might be able to help us. We have a few questions about a former student.

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