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picking some scattered books and papers up off the floor, handing them to Ian Snyder.
    â€œAll right,” he said, leaping upon the scene, “what’s going on here?”
    â€œWe had a little collision,” said Elijah. “Everybody’s okay.”
    Carrillo looked at the kids’ faces around the room. Most were expressing agreement, eyebrows cocked as if to say, “Yep, that’s what it was,” but some were smiling and snickering with a secret amusement, enough to make him suspicious.
    â€œWell, okay,” he said. “Clean it all up. And you watch yourself, Snyder!” He looked around the room. “And the rest of you get back to your lunch! You’ve only got five minutes!”
    He began circling the room like a cop on a beat, in charge, eyes mean and wary.
    Elijah handed the last of the scattered papers to Elisha, who then handed them to Ian Snyder. It gave Elisha a chance to see what Elijah had found: bizarre drawings of demons and occult symbols, poetry about blood and rituals, pages on witchcraft and spells downloaded from the Internet. Neither showed any reaction, but both saw it all.
    â€œAnyway,” Elijah said, extending his hand once again to Ian Snyder, “the name’s Elijah.”
    Ian Snyder finished stashing everything back in his notebook, then shook Elijah’s hand, the strange, animal look never leaving his eyes. “Ian Snyder—and thank you, but I fight my own battles.”
    Elijah shrugged. “Well, sorry, but I was raised to be there when a fellow human being needs help.”
    For the first time, the hint of a smile appeared at the corners of Snyder’s mouth. “Leonard Baynes will be dealt with. Don’t worry about that.”
    The bell rang and the great and instant exodus began. Elijah felt several friendly slaps on the back from students he didn’t yet know. Snyder grabbed up his books and turned to leave. “But thanks anyway,” he said over his shoulder.
    Snyder was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and something on his shoulder caught Elijah’s eye. Snyder had a tattoo.
    A tattoo of an angel.
    In a quiet, neutral location—an RV park on the edge of town— the Springfields reviewed the day over dinner in the Holy Roller, a forty-foot motor home that served as home, office, and mobile crime lab.
    Sarah examined the soda straw through the plastic bag, then opened the plastic bag and sniffed it for any odor. “You’re right. There’s a strange smell, kind of musty.”
    â€œLike an old basement or something,” Nate commented.
    â€œYes, exactly.” She sealed the bag again and set it aside. “The fact that the straw was buried under an athlete’s laundry won’t make the odor any easier to isolate.”
    Nate looked across the table at Elijah. “But we may have isolated the ‘angel,’ am I right?”
    Since Elijah’s mouth was full, Elisha spoke. “Ian Snyder has a reputation as a witch, and according to what we found in his books and papers today, hoo boy, he’s into a lot of weird stuff.”
    Nate nodded. “He has a reputation around that school. Mr. Gessner and Officer Carrillo brought up his name yesterday.”
    â€œBut here’s the connection: The girls I talked to think he controls the ghost. Somehow he can get the ghost of Abel Frye to do his bidding.”
    Sarah recalled Jim Boltz’s eerie cry, “The angel and Abel Frye.”
    â€œSure. Exactly.”
    Elijah swallowed and spoke up. “He told me that Leonard Baynes—that’s the bully we tangled with—‘would be dealt with,’ whatever that means.”
    â€œIt means we’d better keep an eye on Leonard Baynes,” said Nate. “But looking back on all this, we need to know if Snyder had anything against the first three victims.”
    â€œHe did,” said Elisha. “Sondra and Karine told me that all three of them used