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Luke nodded. “Everyone does, but the only sparkle Hollywood has comes from pretty girls like you.”
Catherine marveled at how easily Luke’s compliment penetrated the girls’ defenses. They blushed, then interrupted each other in a rush to describe what they had seen. As Pam struggled to keep up, her once-neat writing blurred into a hurried scrawl.
“We weren’t really sure what had happened that night,” the girl with the flowing hair explained. “The next morning, we went back to where Felix had parked his car. We were kind of mixed-up about where it was, and by the time we found it, the police were about to tow it away. We just hung with the neighbors, who had come out to watch, until we overheard someone say Felix had been stabbed. Then we just walked away, real cool, like.”
“You had a good reason to be frightened,” Luke said. “But didn’t it occur to you that you might be able to help the police catch the killer?”
“We didn’t see much,” the shorter girl insisted. “We’d just gotten into Felix’s car when this woman came up to him, and we didn’t hear what she said.”
“Not a word,” swore the girl with the ponytail.
Luke accepted that with a slight shrug. “All right. Did you see the knife?”
The girls shook their heads vigorously. “We just saw Felix double over, and we didn’t stick around after that.”
“Can you describe the woman?” Luke asked. “Did you notice if she were tall or short, heavy or thin?”
The girls shuffled their feet and moved even closer together. “It was dark,” one complained. “I couldn’t tell if she were a Latina or Chinese.”
“She had white hair,” the other said.
“No, it was just bleached blonde. I saw a streak of red. I guess it was her dress.”
“Maybe you noticed more than you realized,” Luke coached. “Could you pick her out of a line-up?”
“No way. We were just thinking about how great it was to have a place to spend the night,” the pony-tailed girl blurted out. “Then wham, things got weird. Now what about lunch?”
Apparently satisfied with what they’d told him, Luke straightened up. “Sure. Let’s go over to the dining hall.” He nodded toward the door to the courtyard, and the girls scooted right out. Smiling wide, Nick jumped out of his chair to exchange a high five with Luke.
Before Luke followed him out the door, he turned back to offer Catherine a word of advice. “Those girls were smart enough to know when to run, Mrs. Brooks. You’d be wise to follow their example.”
His voice was honey-smooth rather than threatening, but Catherine caught his meaning. She was too shaken to leave immediately, however, and instead sank into the chair Nick had used.
“Those girls witnessed a stabbing and all they can think about is having lunch? Just listening to them made me sick. If I’d witnessed a killing, I’d still be screaming.”
“So would I,” Pam agreed, “but most of the kids we see here have become inured to violence. It’s a defense mechanism they’ve adopted to protect themselves from the frequent horror of their reality.”
Catherine understood the concept, but it still took a large gulp to swallow her disgust. “That’s such a sad way to live, especially for kids. I was hoping to straighten things out for you before I left, but now I doubt there’s any point in my staying. I just don’t feel up to going another couple of rounds with Luke.”
Pam had been reviewing her notes but looked up to offer an encouraging smile. “Luke and I will be fine, but maybe you ought to drink his strawberry shake.”
It was plain Pam was no more upset by Felix’s murder than the pretty pair of witnesses, and Catherine wondered if the secretary’s senses were not equally numb. She rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.
“No, thanks. Just give me a few minutes to collect my thoughts, and I’ll be on my way.”
Pam gave her thirty seconds. “You know why Ms. Snodgrass wants to come back on Friday afternoon, don’t you?”
Catherine hated to think how long she would need to find the courage, or perhaps the stupidity, to return. She opened her eyes and sat up slowly. “I’ve no idea. Why?”
“You must have noticed the way she was eyeing Luke. If she’s here at closing time on Friday, I’ll bet you anything you name that she’ll invite him out for a drink.”
“Would he go?” Catherine asked, then, astonished by that spontaneous burst of curiosity, she pretended a rapt interest in her nails.
“Why don’t you make it a point to be here Friday afternoon so you can see for yourself?” Pam offered coyly.
Catherine responded with a rueful laugh. “I doubt I’ll have recovered sufficiently from today by then.”
Pam giggled at what she mistook for a joke, but when Dave Curtis and Ron Flanders entered the office, she quickly abandoned her teasing tone. “It looks as though a couple of witnesses to Felix Mendoza’s murder have stopped by for lunch.”
