Page 48 of Wicche Hunt

“I just need to ask you a few questions. Can I get your names?”

The first woman cleared her throat and said, “Sofia Rodriguez.” She wore her hair pulled back tightly in a bun and had small pearls at her ears and a gold wedding band around her finger.

Hernández smiled, trying to put the women at ease. “My name is Sofia too.”

Tension in the woman’s shoulders seemed to ease.

“Isabel Alvarez,” the other woman volunteered. She wore no jewelry, save a cross at her neck. Her dark brown hair was short and threaded with gray.

“Can you both come over here?” Hernández led them to the top of the stairs. “I want you to look at the awards on this table.”

The women did and then exchanged a concerned look.

“What did you notice?” the detective asked, her voice gentle.

Isabel pointed to the end of the table. “One’s missing.”

Sofia nodded. “It’s glass and very heavy.”

Isabel looked at Sofia with irritation. “Rosa didn’t dust yesterday.”

“That’s good for us,” Hernández said. “The clean spot tipped us off that something was missing.”

Sofia’s hand flew to her mouth. “The dean was hit with the award?” Whispering behind her fingers, she added, “He was murdered?”

TWENTY

Sofia & Isabel

“I’m still investigating. Do either of you remember the last time you saw the award on the table?”

“Two days ago?” Isabel said, turning to Sofia. “Didn’t I work on the third floor two days ago?” She shivered and then crossed herself. “Ay, Dios Mio, murdered.”

“Yes,” Sofia responded. “Rosa was yesterday.”

“I cleaned it two days ago,” Isabel confirmed.

“Thank you,” Hernández said, making a note. She looked up the empty hall and lowered her voice. “I think we all know that some people don’t notice the ones who provide services for them. The help, right?”

Both women nodded.

“And because of that, you often hear and see things they don’t intend anyone to know about. Secrets they’d rather keep hidden.”

The women glanced at each other and reluctantly gave what could be construed as a nod.

“Now, if the dean was in fact helped down those stairs, it would have been by someone who was upset with him. Can you think of anyone who’s been upset with Mr. Grimes? Or perhaps a time you saw him very angry himself?”

Sofia glanced over her shoulder and then leaned in to whisper. “The dean is always angry.”

Isabel nodded.

“He’s the disciplinarian of the school. These children—” Sofia stopped and shook her head.

Isabel patted Sofia’s arm.

“Most are good kids,” Sofia continued. “They can be bratty, but they’re here, not home with their families, so we understand some brattiness.” She paused when we heard someone walk by the bottom of the stairs.

“Others,” Isabel continued, “I think were sent here because the parents didn’t know what to do with them anymore.”

---