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“You’re so sure of it.”

“I saw it in her. I know it. But knowing it and proving it, especially something like this, are way different.”

He had to struggle to overcome an innate and instinctive denial. “All right, even considering you may be right about the boy, why Foster? Why Williams? Because of her mother’s affair?”

“I don’t think she’d give a flat shit about her mother’s affair. Sex isn’t on her radar, not really. And it doesn’t really apply to her directly. I don’t know why, that’s the bitch of it. I’ve got Peabody searching through Foster’s student records to start. Maybe he caught her cheating, or stealing.”

Didn’t fit, she thought, annoyed with herself. Didn’t really jibe. “There were a few illegals in student lockers. Maybe she’s selling or using. If she was threatened by him in some way, or felt he could or would do something to screw up her perfect world, she could kill him to prevent it.”

She began to pace. “I need Mira’s take. For me, this kid fits the profile down the line. But I need Mira to back that up. I need that, and I need to catch Allika alone tomorrow. Wear her down, break through the protective shield. I need more than what I’ve got because unless I’m completely crazy, this kid’s killed three people in her first decade. And she hasn’t even come close to hitting her stride.”

“How would she know what ricin is, much less how to use it?”

“Kid’s smart. Smart enough to listen, observe, and check the web.”

“And the paralytic used on Williams. How’d she get her hands on it?”

“She volunteers, some organization called From the Kids. You know what they do?” She tapped the copy of Rayleen’s busy schedule. “They visit pediatric wards, geriatric wards, spend time with the sick and infirm to brighten their day. I bet she could get whatever the hell she wanted. Who’s going to look at some sweet, socially conscious little girl? I need to find her diary.”

“You’re sure she has one?”

“That was a little mistake she made right off, mentioning her diary to me when she was pulling the spotlight on herself. Cued in to that from the get,” Eve told him. “All those I’s. I saw, I found, I think, I know. But I didn’t see, not clearly enough.”

Her mouth firmed. “Well, neither did she. How could she know I’d go poking around in her personal space? It’ll be in her diary—all of it. Who can pat her on the back but herself? The only way to do that is to write it down. She got it out of the house before we searched it.”

She circled the board again, picking out details, separating them, mixing them together again. “Plenty of time to get it out of the house while her daddy flexed his lawyer muscles. Hell, maybe she destroyed it. She’s smart enough to have done that, cover herself. Maybe I just have to prove, for now, that she had a diary.”

“You’re cool about this,” Roarke commented.

“I have to be. I let it slip by, again and again. I didn’t want to look there. Jesus, who would? I didn’t want to look at that kid with her pretty curls and see a murderer. But I did. I do. If I’m going to get justice for the dead, I have to have every detail and tie them up with a bow. Nobody’s going to want to hang multiple premeditated murders on a sweet-faced school girl.”

“If you’re right…what if there are more?”

Letting out a breath, Eve switched displays on screen manually, brought up Rayleen’s ID photo. “Yeah, that’s gone through my head, and stuck in my gut. What if there are more? Sick kids, sick elderly. Did she put one down? She’s got activities scheduled all over hell and back. How many people does she intersect with every day, every week, month, and so on? Was there another accident, another death, another unsolved murder? Going to find out eventually.”

“She must be very, very sick.”

“I don’t know what she is, but I know I’m going to do everything I know how to do so she pays for what she’s done.” She saw his face, felt her muscles tighten. “You think I should feel sorry for her?”

“I can’t say, that’s God’s truth. I’m not sure what to think, but