Free Relative Danger by June Shaw

had said I should question Mrs. Little about the murder.
    “Which way is the cafeteria?” I asked a hefty guy cramming a whole folded slice of pepperoni pizza into his mouth. He gurgled, and I followed to where he pointed, until my nose began leading the way. The aroma of fried chicken and homemade rolls didn’t escape me. A bell clanged, and I wondered what it meant now. Why were some kids withdrawing?
    The cafeteria hall had almost emptied, and I was happy to easily make my way through. A young woman who came through an exterior door was so tall she could have eaten her lunch on top of my head. I realized she was the same person with the quiet voice who had initially guided me to the office. “Hi,” I said. “Thanks for helping me out yesterday. Today I’m subbing. I’m Cealie Gunther.”
    “Hello.” She patted down her fluffy blond waves. “It’s so windy out there. Now I’ve got duty hair.”
    “Duty hair?” I grinned, and so did she.
    “This is what hair looks like after you’ve had duty outdoors on a windy day. We had an accident a few days ago, and since then, all teachers have to pull duty. We’re monitoring all activities here more closely.” Her shoulder-length hair set off a flawless complexion and eyes the color of copper. She was slender, and the bodice of her knit top lay almost flat, yet little nubs poked up. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
    A woman who chose not to put on underwear for work? I admired her for making that choice. “I’m Marisa Hernandez,” she said.
    Kat’s mentor! I reached out and pumped her hand. “So nice to meet you,” I said, needing to talk with her about Kat.
    “Whose place are you taking? If you’re coming this way, I’ll walk with you.”
    “I’m subbing for Jack Burdell, but I’m not sure which direction the room is now.”
    “Oh, then we won’t be heading the same way. You’ll go down that corridor to the right, turn right again, and then left.”
    “Thanks. I’m going to eat first. How about joining me?”
    “That bell meant our final lunch period was over. The cafeteria’s closed.” Marisa Hernandez sauntered off, and facts clicked in my mind. She was Kat’s beloved teacher. And a murder suspect. The hem of her skirt swept muscular calves, her arms swung loosely, and I wondered. Could those dangling arms and long hands have shoved a man off a balcony?
    And what did she mean—lunch was over?
    Students had disappeared from my hall. I shoved the cafeteria door open, and the fried-chicken smell greeted me. Scores of round tables sat empty. I spied covered food bins but no ladies with hairnets in the area. I could grab a drumstick and gobble it while making my way back to class. But then I’d be greasy and need a drink. It might not be prudent to watch a class taking a test while I gnawed on a leg bone.
    I turned, feeling my belly button striving to reach my backbone. Immediately across the hall I faced double doors, the word above them capturing my attention— Auditorium . That was where the custodian died.
    I scooted to the doors and grabbed a handle. Pulling slowly, I found the first door locked. The second door sucked open.
    Darkness and even blacker shadows stretched inside. The room’s absolute quiet engulfed me like a shroud. The balcony was somewhere above. And below it, the space where Grant Labruzzo had lain lifeless.
    An icy chill made my arms tremble. I let the door go and scooted away. I needed to release the tension in my jaw and teach a class. Digging orange Tic Tacs out of my purse, I chewed them. Two men stood ahead, both wearing suits and dress shirts without ties. Their commanding stance and take-everything-in demeanor made me decide they were detectives. The tall one looked older. He was hairless, with black-rimmed eyeglasses and a thick waistline. The younger one was brown-skinned. His shoulders were wide, his hair short, his waist trim. I could tell them what Sledge’s buddy mentioned about Sledge and the dead man.
    I