Remy clicked back to her overhead drawing of the art room and how it was laid out, relative to the storage area. The table that the girls sat at was tucked around a corner, out of sight.

“Sure,” I said. “But those girls must’ve come into the room at some point, just like Easton did. How come they didn’t see Harrington when they entered?”

Remy nodded, seeing where I was going. “Yeah, so those girls were already inside, P.T. They had art class the period before, from one to two. So they’ve been in their same seats for almost an hour. Continuing on with their projects, heads down, and listening to music while they paint. It’s their free period too.”

“So Easton opens the door,” Abe said. “Freaks outs and closes it. Runs the other way. Leaving the girls inside, who can’t see what he’s seen?”

“Or even hear,” Merle said.

“What happens next?” the chief asked.

“Leaf Tanner gets up. Braces himself against the wall here.” Remy motioned at her diagram. “He backs into the classroom. The girls see Tanner stagger out, bleeding. Harrington with the gun. The art teacher shrieking.”

“Tanner gets to where the smocks are hung,” Merle said. “Grabs them and collapses onto the floor.”

Abe and I nodded then, understanding the sequence now.

This was where I’d picked up things, from my vantage point atop the maintenance shed. By this point, it was about an hour later, and Leaf Tanner had bled out onto the smocks.

“The thing we’re not clear on,” Merle said, “is how Harrington got into the storage area in the first place. None of the students saw him enter through the hallway door where Easton came in. Which means Harrington must’ve come in through the courtyard door. But that should’ve been locked.”

“You talk to the art teacher?” Abe asked. “What’s her name?”

“Kelly Borland,” Merle said, grabbing at his belt to hike up his slacks. “She’s a wreck. Can’t remember half this shit. She saw the gunman standing near Tanner. The rest is in pieces.”

“In pieces how?” I asked.

“Big holes of time she can’t recall,” Remy said. “She remembers trying to talk Harrington down. The girls screaming. Then she heard the shot, and he’s dead.”

“She ever seen Jed Harrington before?”

“No,” Remy answered.

We all went quiet for a moment, processing the details.

“So we’re figuring that the two men both came into the storage area from the exterior door that led in from the courtyard?” I asked.

“Check,” Merle said. His face had grown puffier in the last year in that way that you see in guys in their fifties. Their necks expand to the maximum PSI, and the excess air moves to the cheeks.

“Do all teachers have a master key to that door?” Abe asked.

“They do,” Remy said.

“So Harrington comes onto campus,” I said. “He spots a random teacher he doesn’t know. Forces him to open a random door. And shoots him. Is that likely?”