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“I do,” Robertsonsaid without hesitation. “I work almost exclusively with younger children,kindergarten to fifth grade—that’s the age group I want to eventually teach.It’s really rewarding to help these kids when they’re just starting to graspconcepts. I feel like I’m making a real difference. And I’ll admit that the payis good too.”
“What subjects doyou teach?” Jessie continued to probe.
"Pretty mucheverything: reading, writing, math."
“Science?” Ryanwondered pointedly.
“Sure,” Robertsonsaid. “But I mean, this is all general knowledge stuff. We’re not doingcalculus or physics or anything like that. There’s a reason I want to teachyounger grades. I’m not exactly a whiz in those STEM subjects once we get pastthe basics. Can I ask you a question, if that’s not inappropriate?”
“Of course,”Jessie told her.
“You’re the policeand you’re in my apartment,” she noted. “You said you had some questions aboutmy clients, but you haven’t asked anything about them yet. I’m starting to getworried that something is majorly wrong.”
They had delayedthe inevitable as long as they could, hoping to glean as much information asthey could about Robertson before the dynamic inevitably changed. Jessie lookedover at Ryan slightly, letting him know that she was ready if he was. He pickedup on it and fixed his attention on the tutor.
“Your clientsinclude Clarissa Langley, Tabitha Reynolds, and Naomi Hacket, correct?” heasked.
“I like to thinkthat their kids are my clients,” she replied with a sheepish smile, “but yes.Why?”
“All three of themhave been murdered in the last forty-eight hours,” he said bluntly.
Robertson, who hadbeen playing with a strand of her hair, froze in place. Her eyes turned intosaucers as her jaw dropped open. It took her a few seconds to find words.
“What?” shefinally said.
“They’ve all beenkilled, Ms. Robertson,” he repeated, “so we’re speaking to everyone who hadconnections to all of them. You’re one of those people.”
“Um, okay,” shesaid, not seeming to fully process the situation. “Would it be all right if Isat down?”
He nodded that itwas, and she shuffled over to her couch. She took a seat, her eyes fixed on herbare feet. Jessie and Ryan followed her but remained standing. Ryan was aboutto continue when the young woman looked up.
“Are the kidsokay?” she asked plaintively.
“They’re allfine,” Jessie told her. “When is the last time you worked with any of them?”
“I’m sorry,”Robertson said, looking flustered. “Normally my memory is pretty good, buteverything’s just swimming around my head right now. Would it be okay if Iconsult my phone calendar?”
“Of course,”Jessie said.
Robertson pulledout her phone and began scrolling. After reviewing things, she looked up.
“Okay, I lastworked with Lansing Langley this last Monday, the 19th,” she said,her voice less tenuous now that she was focused on her area of expertise.
“But don’t mostkids have winter break this week?” Jessie asked, perplexed.
Robertson sighedheavily before replying.
“That’s true,” shesaid, “but a lot of these parents are pretty intense. They want to takeadvantage of every opportunity for their children. They view any setback asputting their child at risk of not getting into their preferred college.Lansing got a bad grade on his last math test before break, and Mrs. Langleywanted me to drill him on the concepts.”
“How old is he?”Ryan asked.
“He’s seven,”Robertson replied, wincing. “He knew the material. He just gets nervous takingtests. I told Mrs. Langley that he’d be better off talking to someone about hisanxiety than doing math problems over the holidays, but she felt differently.”
“What aboutTabitha Reynolds?” Jessie asked.
"I work withher daughter, Samantha—Sammy," Robertson said. "I helped her lastThursday because she had a spelling test on Friday. I was actually planning totext Tabitha to see how it went, but I didn't want to bother her over theholidays."
“And what aboutNaomi Hackett?” Ryan asked. “When did you last work with her child?”
