Homecoming Homicides by Marilyn Baron

break. Major Peyton had been Jack’s best friend, which probably had, as much as anything, contributed to Jack’s downward spiral and the injury that now defined him. Even before the injury, Jack had been inconsolable because his friend had been killed during the height of the season. The two had been inseparable. Jack caught Major’s passes and they backed each other up on and off the field. Major had been Jack’s wingman, and when that shining star was extinguished, Jack disappeared down a black hole and couldn’t or wouldn’t climb back out.
    “Maybe he spends time at the scene after he dumps the bodies, enjoying what he’s done. Time that could be spent catching the son of a bitch,” Flippy speculated.
    Luke looked interested. The city police obviously hadn’t even thought in that direction.
    They were a bunch of bozos, Keystone Kops, Flippy thought. Whether or not they were willing to admit it, they did need her help.
    Luke read her thoughts. “Look, it’s not like we don’t know what we’re dealing with here, but there’s so little evidence, we’re running out of leads.”
    “Did you ever think that maybe this guy was turned down by the university? Every year we receive some 29,000 applications and only 2,000 students are admitted in the entering class. You need to run that.”
    “That’s a great idea,” Luke said. “I’ll tell the chief.”
    “And take credit for my ideas?”
    “What does it matter who gets the credit if we catch the killer?”
    “There goes my Mr. Nice Guy theory.”
    “You were part of the pageant,” Luke said, ignoring Flippy’s sarcasm. “And you were on the homecoming court the year before. Have you ever thought that the killer might be targeting you?” Luke asked.
    Flippy sighed. Of course that thought had crossed her mind and was seriously creeping her out. A clean sweep. Maybe she had inadvertently seen the killer before he’d murdered Melinda Crawford and he wanted to tie up loose ends? Maybe she was one of those loose ends?
    “I can offer you protection,” Luke stated.
    “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
    “Because you’re such a crack shot? Do you even own a handgun?”
    “Why would I want to own a handgun? And I don’t need you in my business. Don’t you have a partner? I thought you guys usually travel in pairs.”
    “I have a partner, and he spells me when I’m in class. He’s my backup. But the chief put me on babysitting duty until this case is solved.”
    “Babysitting duty? Is that what you consider this? Look, Luke, we’re equal partners.”
    “Call it what you want. We’re stuck together until this thing is over. So I will be protecting you. You don’t go out on patrol with me unless I okay it. You don’t get near anything dangerous. You stay in the background where you belong.”
    Flippy was tempted to say, “Nobody puts Flippy in the background.” But she thought better of it.
    Instead, she said, “That’s outrageous.”
    “I’m just looking out for you.”
    “I don’t need you looking out for me.”
    “Don’t worry. It’s nothing personal. I’m assigned to you. I’m just doing my job. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the hell out of my way and let me do it.”
    Flippy was speechless. She’d rarely heard Luke swear.
    “Sorry,” Luke growled.
    “You don’t look sorry. And you don’t sound sorry.”
    “I’m just on edge. Anyway, we’re getting off track here. Did you notice anything that didn’t smell right the night of the pageant? Do you recall seeing anyone strange hanging out before the pageant or after?”
    “I don’t recall anything unusual. At least nothing that would justify someone killing or trying to kill all the girls.”
    Flippy rubbed her head. All this concentrating had given her a whale of a headache.
    “Wait a minute, Luke. I do remember something,” Flippy said, popping the last two aspirin from the bottle in her desk drawer.
    “You okay?” Luke look concerned.
    “I’m