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Pyre escorted Dale to the lecture hall’s side door and handed him off to a clean-cut officer that looked like a recruiting poster. Dale followed blankly, his throat tight and chest tighter. And how much sweat could he put out, anyway? He hadn’t even had anything to drink today!
The Police Youth model guided Dale back to the MacDonald Hall lobby. Of course the detective would be with Deck’s body—but did he really want to talk to Dale there?
Dale relaxed a little to see that Deck’s body had already been removed. Trampled cinnamon rolls covered the floor in a greasy sheen of abused frosting, the sickly-sweet smell gagging-thick. Two janitors lounged nearby, awaiting the command to unleash their buckets and carts.
Thankfully Dale’s escort stopped at the doorway and called “Detective Moo
