Free The Survivor by DiAnn Mills Page B

a brow. “After school. But we have a crucial game. You’re not—”
    “We’ll be here at two forty-five to talk to the team and their parents. Make sure you phone them, Coach Ofsteller. That still gives you plenty of time to practice.”
    Once they left the coach’s office, Tigo and Ryan visited the school counselor, Mrs. Villerreal, a Hispanic woman with graying hair and a tight smile. They introduced themselves, and Ryan closed the door.
    “We have a few questions about Curt and Ian Yeat,” Tigo said. “We’re assuming you counsel both boys?”
    “Yes, sir.” She gestured for them to sit and eased into a chair behind her desk. A bowl of chocolate kisses sat on the desktop, which was littered with school paraphernalia.
    “What can you tell us about the Yeat brothers? Their grades? Friends? How they get along with other students?”
    She stiffened. “I’m not sure I legally have to answer your questions.”
    Tigo nodded—Ryan’s cue to persuade the woman to help them so they wouldn’t have to take legal measures.
    “Why wouldn’t you want to assist the FBI?” Ryan began. “A horrible crime has been committed, and none of us want Curt or Ian to be another stat in an unsolved murder case.”
    The color vanished from Mrs. Villerreal’s face. “I hadn’t considered that the bomber might be after them too. I know bodyguards are at the house, but I thought it was just precautionary.”
    “No, ma’am,” Ryan said. “We don’t know who the next victim could be.”
    She gasped. “Okay. I’ll help with what little I know.”
    “Good.” Ryan smiled. “Agent Harris will pose the questions, and I’ll record your answers. All right?”
    She nodded and reached for a chocolate.
    “Thank you,” Tigo said, his comment aimed more at Ryan than the counselor. His partner knew how to soften tough situations and seldom lost his temper. But when it happened, no one had better get in his way. “Tell us about Curt and Ian.”
    “The boys make good grades and are likable.”
    A definite textbook response. “Any behavior problems?”
    “Not really.” The woman fidgeted in her chair. “That information is confidential.”
    “Mrs. Villerreal, what are you not telling us?”
    The clock on her desk ticked the seconds.
    “Do you think the boys could be involved in this?” she said. “I mean, the news says the parents were having problems, and Mr. Yeat had just made a critical business decision that appears to have endangered his family’s lives.”
    “Our concern is for Curt and Ian.” Tigo studied her facial expressions. She was cautious and nervous. “Whatever you tell us is strictly confidential.”
    “But I don’t see how I can help.”
    The woman knew something. Tigo glanced at Ryan.
    “This is off the record,” Ryan said. “But it’s still your choice whether to give us information.”
    She nodded and rearranged paper clips on her desk. “What I’m about to say is common knowledge to most of us. Nothing documented.” She directed her gaze at Ryan, then Tigo. “Ian has a nasty temper, and Curt cleans up his messes.”
    “In what way?” Tigo resumed the questioning.
    “Ian likes to party, and Curt doesn’t because he has scouts at every game and wants to maintain that status.”
    “So Curt follows his kid brother around to keep him out of trouble?”
    “Apparently so.”
    “But Ian doesn’t have a police record,” Tigo said.
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “What does your information say about altercations?”
    She shrugged. “His dad keeps the incidents off his record.”
    Resentment had to be building in Curt. “Do you suspect an addiction?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Any problems on school time?”
    “A few arguments.” She swallowed hard. “Ian also threatened a female teacher in the school parking lot last spring. But Curt intervened.”
    “Was the threat verbal or physical?”
    “Uh … both.”
    “Do you have the threat documented?”
    She flushed. “Uh, no. Mr. Yeat met