Yes you are

You glance at Brian and see him shrug and nod. "Ok," you tell Holly. "We'll listen."

She just nods in answer and walks out of the cafe. The two of you throw money on the counter and follow her. In the sunlight she looks even prettier, with auburn glints in her light brown hair. She points up the street.

"There's a bar a block up and a block over. It's always quiet at this time of day." She sees your frown and continues. "I know you don't drink Mr. Carter, but I'm sure they can rustle up a coffee or a soda for you. Let's go." Without waiting for an answer she turns and leads the way, her rump twitching delightfully in her tight jeans. From the raised eyebrow and the smiling glance he gives you, you know that Brian appreciates the view of the reporter's ass.

The bar is a typical blue collar joint, empty except for a couple of elderly men nursing a beer at the bar. Holly points to a booth at the back, taking a seat that gives her a view of the entire bar and the front door. After a moment a beefy bartender comes over and takes your order; beers for Holly and Brian and a ginger ale for you. When the drinks come the reporter takes a sip then looks at the two of you, her eyes bright and intelligent.

"Last year something happened at Pink Rose. Something bad. Bad enough that some teachers were fired and some students expelled. They threw a blanket over it, but rumours got out."

"What's the big deal?" you ask. "Teachers are fired and students are expelled all the time."

"Not at Pink Rose. They havn't fired a teacher before this since 1955. And hasn't expelled a student since the '60s. The place has a reputation for teaching dignified young ladies, and most of the time they've kept that image intact. Until last year. If it hadn't been for the girl's ****, they might still have."

"****?" you say with surprise, noticing Brian looking startled.

"You guys should really try this thing called Google," she laughs sarcastically, shaking her head. "Didn't you do any research at all before you came here?"

You feel yourself getting irritated, and look over her shoulder at the wall to retain your temper. Brian is looking like he feels slightly foolish.

"I get it," Holly says, moderating her tone. "Mr. Watts you were happy to get a job so quick right out of college, and in your case Mr. Carter, well I guess you were happy to be offered a teaching job at all."

You look at her warily, wondering just how much she knows about your history. From that comment, and her knowledge that you don't drink, you're guessing a lot.

"So you've been checking up on us," you say, making it a statement and not a question.

"I have," she answers, completely unabashed. "I've been checking up on everybody I can, so don't feel singled out. Do you want me to continue?"

Pressing your lips together in annoyance, you nod.

"So this girl, the student. She was killed by a train just outside of town. The coroner ruled the **** was accidental, but I have my doubts. I think the police do too, but they aren't talking much. This happened around the same time when the expulsions and firings happened. Wait," she says taking a sip of beer. "Only two teachers were fired. One just disappeared, and supposedly sent a letter of resignation in."

"You think she was murdered? The girl I mean," Brian asks, looking doubtful.

"Or suicide," the reporter answers. The official story is that she was walking over an overpass and slipped and fell onto the train tracks just as one was coming along. They pretty much had to mop her up with a sponge." She takes a sip of her beer and you note that Brian has gone a little pale.

"I don't get it. What does all that have to do with people getting fired and expelled and this dead girl," he says, looking sceptical.

"If I knew all that I'd have a story, wouldn't I?" she says acidly. "I think there's a link and I'm trying to run it down."

"Sounds kind of thin to me," he says.

"The firings and expulsions were real," she replies with an irritated look. "And the girl is really dead. And here's a little something for you to think about, if you can get your mind off the MLB standings for a moment. One of the students here last year was Theresa Maglio. And she's back for a second year."

You look at Brian and he shrugs, the name obviously meaning nothing to him either. He's looking stung by the reporter's sarcasm.

"Theresa Maglio is Vincent Maglio's granddaughter. Vincent Maglio is the boss of the Tortella family in New York. A stone mobster and a serious fucking guy. He's called Vinnie Mags on the street."

"What would a guy like that send his granddaughter here for?" you ask, cutting off Brian before he can irritate Holly further.

"Trying to give her a life away from how he got rich? I don't know, but I do know that something happened to her last year because after the firings and stuff Vinnie had two of his torpedoes down here to body guard her."

"From what?" Brian asks.

"Good question," Holly says. "All I can tell you is that something happened to her and after that she changed from being happy and slightly wild to being shy and withdrawn."

"That's all you can tell us, or that's all you know?" you ask quietly.

Holly smiles knowingly at you. "Another good question," she answers. "Now why don't we talk about what brought you gentlemen to the Pink Rose Academy for Young Gentlewomen?" She says, sipping her beer again and pulling a small notebook out of her purse. "I have a few questions."