“Just keep your ear to the ground—and keep this gig under wraps. We’re sharing details on a need-to-know basis. The fewer fingers in this, the less risk of leaks.” His phone began to ring, and he picked it up. “And do something fun this weekend.”

“Already on the books.”

Thank goodness.

Maybe the relaxing get-together she’d planned with her two sisters would help her shake the sense of foreboding—and dread—seeping into her pores, so pervasive it seemed almost like a premonition . . . or warning.

Which was ridiculous.

Huffing out a breath, she shifted the weight of the files in her arm and left Sarge’s office.

Her nerves were kicking in, that was all. Being a bit spooked was normal in light of her aversion to the mere thought of plunging back into undercover mode.

Yet a caution sign continued to strobe in her mind—as if warning her to beware of sinister secrets lurking in the shadows at the exclusive school slated to become her temporary home.

She shook off a shudder as she entered the office she shared with a fellow detective. Dropped the files onto her desk with a thud.

Too bad she couldn’t toss off this assignment as easily.

But she’d agreed to take it on, and backing out wasn’t an option. If that young woman had, indeed, gone missing—and the school had played a role in her disappearance—someone posing as a student would be in an ideal position to find the truth.

As for the unnerving vibes coursing through her?

She’d control them as best she could . . . but she’d also listen to her gut.

So just in case the challenges waiting for her ended up being far more formidable than simply convincing everyone she was seventeen, she’d go into this assignment on high alert . . . and she wouldn’t let her guard down until she left Ivy Hill—and her student persona—behind forever.

2

THAT WRAPS UP THE TOUR.” Richard Tucker opened the door that led from the school’s main corridor to the Ivy Hill administrative offices. “I’m sorry more staff members weren’t around for you to meet, but this place is a ghost town over Christmas break.”

“Understandable.” Zeke Sloan followed the president into the office suite, giving it another discreet perusal. The place was functional, but the original artwork, mahogany furniture, and custom rugs on the polished hardwood floor spoke of a solid financial base.

Not a luxury many private schools had these days.

“I’ll introduce you to the rest of the faculty at our staff meeting next Friday and—” A door to the right opened, and Richard swung toward it. “Will! I thought you’d left for the day.”

A uniformed, fiftyish balding man who could use a few extra trips to the gym paused. “I decided to make one more circuit.”