Expecting to Die

party last night, or at least I’ve been introduced to them over the years. I met
some when our kids were in preschool, then saw them over the years as my kids
went through elementary and junior high school. The O’Hara boys, both of ’em,
attended Good Feelings.”
“Good Feelings?”
“The preschool.”
“Seriously?”
“I know, I know. Sounds a little granola.”
“A little?”
“I think the owners were trying to do something with the letters in Grizzly
Falls, and since the image of a grizzly bear doesn’t quite fit with the warm and
cuddly tone of preschool, they took the letters G and F and came up with Good
Feelings.” At Alvarez’s smile, Pescoli added, “Yeah, it was a little ‘Kumbaya’
for me, but everything else was too strict or too religious or too expensive.
Anyway, the O’Hara boys, Lara Haas, Bryant Tophman—for a while before his
dad’s church came up with their own—and Kywin Bell all went to Good
Feelings at one point or another. Austin Reece and Simone Delaney, and oh,
Maddie Averill, too, I think, but I’m not sure how long some of them were there.
It was a long time ago. I guess all that ‘peace be with you’ didn’t rub off on all of
them.”

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“Teenagers are a whole different breed of cat from who they were as
preschoolers.”
“Can’t argue there.” Both Jeremy and Bianca had once been sweet and
innocent as young children, only to turn into rebellious hellions in high school.
She took a final sip of her decaf and drained the paper cup before crushing it and
tossing it into the trash. “I’m thinking you might have a few more parents who
phoned in. I’m willing to guess that Wilda Wyze called too.”
“Kywin Bell’s mother.” Her gaze slid to her notes. “Yep. Bright and early.”
“So her son is misunderstood as well?”
“She actually wasn’t all defensive. Just wanted to know the score and seemed
worried. Said she was afraid that he had some bad influences in his life.”
Pescoli said, “She’s talking about her ex?”
“Franklin Bell. Yeah. He’s called about three times, but I’ve missed him. I
have a list of parents to call back. But first things first.”
“Destiny Rose Montclaire.”
“Yeah.”
“So, what’s next?”
“A little bit of a waiting game.” She explained about the parents ID-ing their
daughter, that the autopsy hadn’t been started despite the “rush” that both she
and Blackwater had requested. “Later today, I’m told,” she added, then shared a
partial list of persons of interest, those who were closest to the victim, including
the Justison kid, should it be proven that Destiny had been the victim of foul
play.
“She was on the periphery of the crowd that gathered last night,” Alvarez
wound up. “Knew some of the kids, such as Justison and the O’Hara boys. But
the others claimed they were basically only acquaintances. They knew of her, but
had never hung out.”
“Like Bianca. She had her in an English class.”
“I’m going to have to speak to her,” Alvarez reminded her.
“I know. I told her someone would call and set up an interview. You need her
cell number?”
“Already got it.”
“Okay, just let me know when you set it up.”
“Probably this afternoon,” Alvarez said as her phone buzzed. Answering, she
held up a hand to end the conversation, then walked into the hallway, leaving
Pescoli to really dig in to her work day a few minutes after noon.

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