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"What are you doing to stop these crimes, officers?" one of the parents called angrily as the police trooped upstairs and headed inside. “I’m not sending my girls back to school until I know this is under control!”
“Are you attending the school staff meeting? The principal just told us he’s holding an emergency meeting at eight,” another parent shouted.
"We're actively investigating and that's why we are here, following a suspect," May said breathlessly. "I hope we will make an arrest very soon."
So there was a staff meeting at eight? Clearly the school was calling in the staff to discuss their strategy for the safety of the students. May hoped that if things went the way she intended, by the time the meeting was over, they wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
Then, with no more time to spare, she rushed ahead.
There was the school staff room. She veered right and headed for the open door. Already, at this early hour, there were two teachers inside.
They both turned, looking curious and apprehensive, as the police arrived at the door.
"Can we help you?" the older teacher, a gray-haired woman, asked.
"Coach Adamson. Where can we find him?"
"He's in the gym, I believe," the older teacher said, but as May was about to turn away, the other teacher shook his head.
"I saw him heading out to the football field. He's doing an early coaching session with the team. With this emergency staff meeting ahead, it had to take place earlier than usual," he said gravely.
"Thank you," May said.
They hustled out of the staff room and rushed through the school corridors, out of the far entrance to the brilliant green playing fields beyond.
She saw him in the distance. He was standing on the grass, talking to a group of players, who were gathered around. The tall coach had a whistle around his neck, and was holding a clipboard in his hand.
May hurried across the grass as fast as she could.
Even from a distance, she could see he was a physically powerful man, and she felt tense with apprehension. This was it, she thought, the moment of truth when they would confront Adamson and make their move.
He spotted her as she neared him, and his shoulders stiffened with shock. She saw his face harden with fear and anger, as he realized she meant business.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"We need to question you regarding the recent murders," May said firmly.
"This is madness!" Adamson exclaimed. "You're making a huge mistake. I have nothing to do with those murders. And you're disrupting important coaching time. I thought the police was supposed to be here to help the community."
There was a sneering tone in his voice that got May's back right up.
"Don't make this difficult for yourself," May warned. "We know who you are. We know you've been living under an assumed name for the last eight years, and that you have previous convictions attached to your real name, Walter Deeney."
Now, his face contorted with rage and fear.
She took a step toward him, but to her shock, he suddenly swung a punch at her. She ducked instinctively, astonished, but the punch caught her shoulder and she staggered back.
And then, Coach Adamson, aka Walter Deeney, flung his clipboard at her, turned and began sprinting in the other direction, cutting through the scattering of students on the bleachers, knocking one right off his feet in his haste to get away.
The clipboard hit her in the elbow. Luckily she’d gotten her hand up in time, or it would have hit her in the face.
"Quick! Chase him!"
Striding as fast as she could, May set off in pursuit.
This man was guilty, without a doubt. He'd just tried to assault her. She'd seen the murderous rage in his eyes. Now, she was going to chase after him, and be ready for whatever he might try to do to save himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY
