After the funeral Detective Gallagher and I had waited and shown the note and key to Edith, but she had no more idea than I what it was for or what Fred had meant by the phrase “just a precaution.” Detective Gallagher had kept both, which irked me. I might not know what either was for, but they were mine and I wanted the key in case I ever found something that needed unlocking. So far, I hadn’t, but that was beside the point. I walked up and down the narrow aisles that ran between the tennis courts, observing the action and dodging the occasional ball. Bonham High had six courts, and I’d placed an upperclassman in charge of each. The older kids had stepped up, organizing their squads, suggesting exercises, coming up with techniques and drills all on their own. And even my half-trained eye could already see the improvement among my players. Eric Richards, somewhat to my surprise, was almost as good as his father claimed. His long limbs gave him a terrific reach, and he coupled that with impressive bursts of speed.
