Save Me - Lisa Scottoline [59]
“Hold on.” Tom returned to the table and placed the cup of water in front of her. “Have some.”
“Thanks.”
“Ready?” Tom asked, his tone sympathetic as he sat down in his chair.
“Sure,” Rose lied. “I’m all ears.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Rose took a sip of water while Tom glanced down at his handwritten notes, flipped through the pages, then looked up.
“Rose, let me ask you a few questions, for starters.”
“Okay.”
“When you were lunch mom, were you given any instruction in any emergency or fire procedures at the school?”
“No.”
“Were you asked to take part in a fire drill at the school?”
“No.”
Tom made a note. “Have you ever seen a fire drill at the school?”
“No. It’s a brand-new school. We just moved here, in June.”
Tom made another note. “Ever been in a school fire drill elsewhere, as an adult?”
“No.”
“New topic. You said there are lunch-mom procedures.” Tom looked up, his expression businesslike and his elbows resting on the table. His fingers throttled his Bic pen. “How were these procedures communicated to you?”
“One of the other moms told me.”
“Who?”
“Uh, Robin Lynn Katz.”
“She’s another parent, isn’t she? She’s not employed by the school or the school district?”
“No. Yes. She’s a mom.” Rose was getting confused. She tried to adjust to the cadence of his speech, so different from Oliver’s.
“How did Robin Lynn Katz find out about the procedures, if you know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are the lunch-mom procedures written anywhere?”
“Not that I know of.”
“In any event, you were never given written instructions about them, correct?”
“Correct. No.”
“Were you given any instructions by anyone at the school with respect to emergencies or fire safety procedures?” Tom gestured at Oliver, who remained silent, listening. “Like Oliver was saying, with the baseball coaches.”
“No.”
“New topic.” Tom checked his notes. “Let’s talk about the blond teacher at the door to the playground. You sure she was a teacher and not a mom?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. She appeared to be getting them outside, in some official way. She acted like a teacher.”
“Good enough.” Tom made a note. “When you ran back into the cafeteria, was she still there?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Did you see her? In other words, you didn’t see her go out, did you?”
“No.”
Tom made another note. “Now. Reesburgh is a new building, finished in August, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you told us what Kristen Canton told you, about the gas leak and the faulty wiring. The carpenter, Kurt Rehgard, told you the same thing. Were they the only people who told you about that?”
Rose thought a minute. “Kristen told me that the teacher, Jane Nuru, said something about them rushing the job and not doing the punch list.”
“Right. You mentioned that. Sorry. My error.” Tom made a note. “Okay, shifting gears again, tell me how you get in and out of the school, particularly through the playground door.”
Rose didn’t understand. “You walk?”
“No.” Tom shook his head. “I’m being unclear. In my son’s middle school, only the main entrance to the school is unlocked, and it leads to the office and only to the office. All visitors check in.”
“Right. Reesburgh works the same way.”
“You need a keycard to get in the other doors?”
“Same as Reesburgh.” Rose thought a minute. “One time I went into the side entrance and it was locked. The teachers have the keycards. They wear them around their necks.”
“Good.” Tom made another note. “In my son’s school, the doors lock automatically when they close. Also the fact, in Reesburgh?”
“Yes.”
“So think back to that morning. Tell me about the kids in the hallway, running out to the playground. Are they moving in a continuous stream?”
“Mostly.”
“But not always?”
“No, I think. I don’t know.” Rose could imagine how scary it would be to get cross-examined by Tom, and felt glad he was on her side.
“Does each kid open the door himself, on the way out?”
“I’m not sure.”
“See it now.” Tom held up his hand, almost