Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(57)

The smile turned into a firm, flat line. “No need to be testy, young lady. We keep all records, but it would be archived. Fifteen-year-old records aren’t something we have at our fingertips. Why would we when . . .”

Eve watched her put it together, saw the mild insult turn to sick realization. “Shelby? She was one of the . . . One of them?”

“I need to see the paperwork.”

“I’ll find it!” She jogged off on her sensible shoes, shouting for an assistant to pull up the archives.

“Get an earful, Quilla?” Eve asked without turning around.

Quiet as a snake, Quilla glided down the stairs.

“I’m a challenge, too.”

“Good for you.”

“Hey, somebody punched you in the face.”

“That’s right. Now she’s in a cage thinking about how much time she’ll get for assaulting a police officer.”

“In the face is a bitch,” Quilla commented with the casual knowledge of one who’d been there often enough to know. “So anyway, everybody’s talking about the dead girls. The wardens closed themselves up in the office for like an hour.”

“Wardens?”

“They might as well be. It’s like half past zero around here with Matron crying and everybody has to make these black bands for their arms even though we didn’t know any of the dead girls, and they’ve been dead already forever. Then we’re stuck with extra meditation so we can help their spirits cross over.”

“Cross over where?”

Quilla circled her finger toward the ceiling. “Or wherever. I f**king hate meditation. It’s boring. Plus I heard Mr. Jones say—” She broke off, glanced toward the stairs.

“Say what?”

“Hey, Ms. Brigham,” Quilla said.

“Hi, Quilla.” Seraphim appeared at the top of the stairs. “Lieutenant, Detective,” she said as she continued down. “Is anyone helping you?”

“Matron Shivitz is getting us some files.”

“We’re all a little off our stride today.” She stroked a hand down Quilla’s shoulder. “Quilla, aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

“Maybe. I saw them hanging here and didn’t want them to have to just stand around.”

“That’s very polite and thoughtful. I’ve got it from here, you go on to class.”

“Okay.” She slanted Eve a look before she scurried off.

“She’s curious,” Seraphim began. “Most of the kids are. It’s all more mysterious and exciting to them than tragic. It’s a normal reaction for the age. Though I’m told a couple of the more sensitive girls had nightmares last night.”

“You didn’t tell the matron about Shelby being identified.”

“No. I didn’t tell anyone, was I supposed to? I’m sorry,” she continued before Eve could speak. “I’m so used to keeping a confidence, I just kept it to myself.”

“That’s fine. It’s not your job to notify. I was just curious why you hadn’t.”

“You came to see me at my grandmother’s. To me, that equaled what we spoke of as in confidence.”

“Got it.”

“And it’s the same reason—that trained circumspection—that had me hesitating to ask if I can get you a cold pack for that cheek. It looks painful.”

“It’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

“All right. Lieutenant, I wanted to thank you for looking for Leah Craine, for finding her.”

“Roarke did the finding.”

“I know, but it meant a great deal to me to know she’s well, happy. I contacted her. I couldn’t decide if I should, but Gamma and Jack—my fiancé—convinced me. I’m so glad they did. We’re going to have lunch next week.”

“That’s nice.”

“It feels nice.” Her smile bloomed all the way to her eyes. “I should tell you we spoke about the girls. Just briefly, but she’d heard about them, too. She did tell me she’d never gone back to The Sanctuary when she ran away again. She was afraid to go near it, in case her father looked for her there.”

She paused a moment, glanced toward the stairs just in case. “I think we knew—but didn’t say, either of us—that if she had, she might be among those girls. Instead, she has work she loves, a man she loves, and her first baby on the way.”

“You could tell her if she remembers anything from her time here that may apply, to contact me.”

“We talked about that, too, a little. I gave her your information, but as I think I told you, she really kept her head down in those days.”

“Okay. If you’ve got a minute now, we have more identifications.”

“Let’s sit down. The children should all be in class or activity at this time of day—including Quilla.” She glanced at the stairs again, down both hallways before she took one of the seats near Shivitz’s station, accepted the printouts.

“God, they’re so young. Were so young. I don’t remember these girls. They don’t seem familiar. Do you know what happened to them, to all of them?”

“The investigation’s ongoing.” Eve drew out her ’link when it signaled, studied the image and text. Switching it to image only, she held it out to Seraphim. “What about this girl?”