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Her uncle gave her a slight nod, as he settled back in his chair and gazed out the window for a moment. She took a deep breath before launching into her story.“A couple of years ago, a young teenage boy was struggling with his sexual identity, and finally confessed to his mom that even though he’d been born a boy, in his heart he felt like a girl. After a lot of soul-searching, they finally consulted my dad, who advised they talk to a friend of his, a renowned psychologist in Bridgehampton. They did, and over the course of the next couple of months became convinced that going through the transition was the right thing to do. The boy was still in high school, so they decided to wait until after graduation so that nobody would be any the wiser. He didn’t want to attract attention to himself, and make a difficult and sensitive situation even harder.”

“I remember the case,” said the chief gruffly. “Poor kid.”

“What happened?” asked Chase.

“Everything was going as planned, when suddenly the boy was outed on his school’s Facebook page, pictures of him exiting the clinic where he’d been going posted and the whole story being displayed for the whole school to see. It was a serious blow to the boy and his single mother, but they thought they could overcome it. But then the taunting started, and the name calling and the nasty comments wherever he went. Finally, the boy couldn’t take it anymore and…” Her voice broke.

“It’s all right, hon,” said her uncle. “I’ll tell the story if you want.”

She shook her head, and continued,“A little over two years ago, when his mother came home from work, she found him in his room, hanging from a rope, a note on his desk telling her he was sorry to have caused her so much trouble, and that the world was much better off without him.”

“Christ, that’s horrible,” said Chase, distractedly raking his fingers through his hair.

“Paulo Frey was behind the outing of the kid. I’m sure of it. I googled the affair, and the initial post and the pictures on the school page were posted by the Society of No. I think the boy’s mother discovered that Frey was behind it. That he was the one responsible for her son’s torment and death, and that in a fit of rage she decided to take revenge and killed him.”

“Who was this kid?” asked Chase now.

The Chief and Odelia shared a knowing glance, and finally the Chief said,“Luke Coral. Rohanna Coral’s boy.”

Chase’s eyebrows rose. “Rohanna as in… the cleaning lady?”

“I think you’ll find that the laptop is in her cleaning bucket,” said Odelia. “She must have heard it was here and wanted to make sure we wouldn’t find out about Frey and the Society of No and make the connection with her boy.”

“We better have a little talk with her,” said the Chief now, and swiftly rose from behind his desk. And as they made to leave the office, Max and Dooley suddenly came barging in through the window, hopped onto the chief’s desk, and announced to Odelia they had discovered the identity of the killer.

Instead of threshing this thing out in front of Chase and Uncle Alec, she ushered them into an empty office, and when they told her that Clarice had seen Rohanna drag the body of Paulo Frey into the cesspit that day, she had her confirmation. Now there was no doubt Rohanna Coral was the killer.

She hurried out of the office and told her uncle,“It’s Rohanna, all right. We have to get her before she destroys the evidence on that computer.”

“How…” asked Chase, a confused frown on his face.

“Like you said, I’m a cat lady,” she said. “Cats inspire me. Now are you coming or not?”

Without waiting for a response, she sprinted down the corridor to the vestibule, but Rohanna was nowhere to be found.

“Have you seen Rohanna?” she asked Dolores.

“Yeah, she left about twenty minutes ago,” said Dolores.

She quickly went in search of the cleaning trolley, and found it in the small room where they kept the cleaning supplies. The bucket was still filled with soapy water and she plunged her hands in.“Nothing,” she grunted. Of course. She looked up when Chase joined her. “She took the laptop.”

“Let’s go,” he said curtly.

“I’ll wait here, just in case she comes back,” her uncle said.

She and Chase flew out the front door, and ran for their cars. Only now did she remember she’d parked hers in front of the Gazette. She eyed Chase’s dilapidated truck a little uncertainly. “Does that thing drive?”

“Like the wind,” he assured her. “Hop in.”

“Hand me the keys. I’ll drive.”

He hesitated.

“I know where she lives.”

After a moment’s deliberation, he tossed her the keys. “You better not wreck my ride.”

“No much left to wreck,” she said, and got behind the wheel. Then, just when she was about to back out of the parking spot, Max and Dooley came running up. She quickly opened the door and they scooted in.

“You really are a cat lady,” said Chase with a shake of the head.

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