She bit her lip as she thought. “I’m not sure. As Bledsoe pointed out—only if you believe in coincidence. Me?” She frowned darkly as she walked away. “I’m betting there’s a connection.”

Hayes watched her go and reminded himself she had a personal ax to grind with Bentz, as did Bledsoe and a few others. Could it be that Hayes’s faith in the guy was unfounded? Even his old partner, Russ Trinidad, wanted nothing to do with Bentz. “I hate to say it,” Trinidad had confided in Hayes just this morning, “but the guy’s bad news. I already told you I’m too damned close to retirement to get caught up in his mess. He wants to dig up his ex-wife? Fine. But leave me out of it.”

Maybe Bledsoe had a point, Hayes thought, tossing his pencil onto the desk. It might be best if Bentz dug up Jennifer’s corpse, had a DNA test done, and settled the matter once and for all.

If Jennifer Bentz was buried in that casket, all well and good. And if she wasn’t?

He figured it was nothing short of the damned gates of hell opening.

The school was a long, low brick structure that could have been a county building in the Midwest except for the shady row of royal palms lining the drive. Also, one of the two flags gave the location away. Alongside the stars and stripes of Old Glory waved the flag for the state of California with its field of white and large grizzly bear in the foreground.

Bentz drove slowly past the main doors of the school. He avoided the bus-only lane and passed a long porch designated as the student pickup and drop-off area. On the far side of the drive he located a parking lot marked FACULTY ONLY.

Ignoring the sign, he pulled into an empty spot, cut the engine, and waited. From his vantage point he viewed one long wing of the school and beyond it caught a glimpse of the curved end of a track.

He had a hankering for a smoke. Maybe it because of the butt he’d smoked last night on the beach. Or maybe it was because he was so close to a middle school, where, at twelve, he had coughed his way through his first cigarette.

School was out, the area devoid of any but a few kids with backpacks or skateboards making their way across the adjoining lots and sidewalks.

Bentz figured most of the teachers and administrators were still inside finishing up, making lesson plans for the next day, correcting papers, or whatever it was that teachers did.

In groups of two or three, or even singles, members of the staff filtered out. They were chatting, laughing, rattling keys, and putting on sunglasses. A few looked at him quizzically, probably making note of his license plate and features…a lone guy hanging around near a school.