Dying to Teach Page 14

  Two hours later they sat, she in a robe, he in his briefs, at the table in her room. He poured more wine into her glass and opened himself the second of the two beers he’d grabbed upon leaving home. “Okay. So, now we can talk about the case?”

  “What case? I told you I’m not investigating. Did you give the photo to the authorities?”

  “Yeah, called them first thing this morning then dropped it with them on my way here. They weren’t impressed.”

  “Didn’t think they would be.”

  “Want to know what else I found out?”

  “I assume you’re going to tell me no matter what I say.”

  “I am, because I know you’re dying to hear.”

  “Not.”

  He set the can of beer on the table and peered closely at her. Darned if she didn’t look disinterested. Could she mean what she said? No way. The talent for sorting out clues was in her blood. She couldn’t not put the pieces together.

  So why was she giving off such definite I-don’t-care vibes?

  “You already know the couple in the pic was Gwen and Randy. The college was in fact Bridgewater State.”

  “I’ve heard of that. It’s in Massachusetts.”

  “Right. Randy and Gwen were married in a civil ceremony on December 14th of ’93. It was annulled the following November.”

  “Which means…”

  “I have no idea. I thought if I gave you the ingredients, you could bake the cake.”

  “You know I hate to cook.”

  Angelina got up from her chair and went to flop on the bed. The robe fell open revealing those long sleek legs that still held their summer tan. God, he loved everything about her, the way she moved, the way she flung her hair back so it didn’t get caught under her arms, the way she laughed—even when she was laughing at him.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “You insist I’m doing this.”

  He rose from the chair and went to sit beside her on the bed. “It was bad enough when they set the school on fire. I thank goodness nobody got hurt. I was willing to let the locals handle things; they’re totally competent. But after meeting those kids… I’m going to do what I can to bring the killer to justice. I’d think you would want that too.”

  Angelina sat up and tucked the robe around her legs. “If you think I don’t want that, you’re quite dense. I just—” She tucked her hair behind one ear. “I just—”

  He edged closer and pulled her against him. She laid her head on his shoulder.

  “For some reason Fate has involved you in this,” he said into her flowery smelling hair.

  “No, Randy involved me.” After a couple of minutes she got up and went to sit at the table. “You have a story to tell me. It would be rude not to listen.”

  He refilled her wine and went back to sit on the edge of the bed. “I found a woman Gwen worked with in the office at the college. She was surprised when one day Gwen came in and announced she was leaving school.”

  “Because of the breakup with Randy?”

  “That’s what’s weird. They came in together, holding hands, looking perfectly normal. They announced they were getting an annulment, an amicable one, and Gwen was transferring out west. This woman got a couple of letters from Gwen in California but none had return addresses. The postmarks were from different towns but she couldn’t recall any of them. I got the name of Gwen’s roommate. I’m following up on that.”

  He let Angelina process the information for a moment, then added, “I did a records check; neither Gwen nor Randy has a past.”

  “I assume she transferred to a school in California?”

  “Local cops are having trouble finding which one.”

  “Check her job application here at Carlson. It’ll say where she earned her degree.”

  “Duh, why didn’t I think of that?”

  “You hadn’t narrowed things down that far. Besides, it might have no bearing on the case.”

  “Right.”

  “And then it might,” she added with a wink.

  He grinned across at her. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I’ll let you know.” She untied the belt on the robe. “Before you head home…”

  EIGHTEEN

  “Feel like some hot cocoa?” Kiana asked. She was tired, but the exhilaration of the last half hour with Mrs. Deacon and Detective Jarvis had her raring to go back on the case.

  “I’m beat,” Evan said into the helmet microphone. But he turned the motorcycle in the direction of Farina’s.

  A few minutes later they were seated on tall stools with mugs of hot chocolate heaped with mountains of whipped cream. Kiana spooned cream into her mouth while Evan sucked his through pursed lips. She handed him a napkin to wipe his upper lip.

  Kiana unfolded a second napkin and dug for a pen in her bag. A few more ideas for clue-searching had been running through her head and she wrote them down. She looked up as somebody slid onto the stool beside Evan.

  “Hi Dawson.” Evan sounded none too happy to have a visitor.

  Dawson was a burly kid, the star running back on the football team. He wore his dark brown hair down to his shoulders and was growing a silly looking mustache. His expression always serious, Kiana didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile. Oh yes, except for that night the team won the championship.

  Kiana folded her napkin and set her cup on top of it.

  “What are you guys doing out so late?” Dawson asked, pointedly looking at the napkin.

  “Just got done with rehearsal,” Evan replied. “We’ll be heading home in a minute.”

  “Rehearsal?”

  “Yes, Dawson,” Kiana said. “This weekend. Show. Auditorium. Lots of people.”

  “Oh yeah, I guess I heard something about that.”

  Evan laughed. “There is more to life than football, you know.”

  The gibe didn’t bother him at all. “I’m going pro. No time for other things.”

  Kiana had never really liked Dawson. Way too full of himself. But maybe if she played into that ego, she could squeeze out some information. “Mr. Chalmers seems like a good coach. How’re you gonna do without him?”

  Dawson’s face screwed into a scowl. “Can’t believe they suspended him! Even if he did do what they’re saying, how can it affect the football team? What do they think, he’s gonna kill all of us too?”

  Kiana had been looking at the napkin under her mug; an idea had come to her but she didn’t want to write it down with Dawson here. But with his last comment, her gaze shot up to his face. Did he say what she thought he said?

  Evan was instantly angry at their schoolmate. “That was really insensitive.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

  “Have you seen anybody in Mr. Chalmers’ office in the past few days?” Kiana asked before Evan’s anger could grow out of control.

  Dawson’s brows wrinkled as if the change of topic confused him. “You mean like, the cops?”

  “No. Kids or teachers.”

  Now Dawson laughed. “Mr. Todd—that’s the one taking over for Chalmers—went in there and came right out holding his nose. His office is at one end of the bleachers. Why’re you asking anyway? Oh yeah, you guys’re investigators now.” He said this with a sneer that upset Kiana all over again.

  “Look Dawson,” she spit out before Evan could stop her, “just because all you care about is football—and yourself—doesn’t mean everybody else is like that. Some people care what happens to others.”

  “I care.”

  “Then prove it. Tell us who else has been in Mr. Chalmers’ office.”

  “Shit.” He thought a moment, looking at something over her left shoulder. “Todd and Jennifer. Well, Todd went in. Jen stayed out in the hall holding her nose. Todd only went in to get some shoulder pads though.”

  “Anybody else?”

  “A coupla guys. The same as Todd…went in and came out with equipment.”

  “Did they bring anything in with them?”

/>   He shook his shaggy head. “Why d’you want to know anyway? Miss Forest was already—sorry Kiana. She was already dead.”

  “Humor us,” Evan said.

  “I didn’t see anybody else.”

  “What about Mr. Reynolds?”

  Dawson scrunched his nose, thinking. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him around the gym. Not even for games.”

  “What about janitors—did you see any of them there?” Evan asked.

  Dawson laughed. “Not to clean the place, if that’s what you mean!”

  “We know. Did you see them near there at all?”

  He shook his head then stopped. “Yeah. The goofy looking one. Don’t know his name.”

  “The one with the mustache?”

  “Yeah.”

  So Lincoln Underwood had been there.

  “Do you know if Mr. Chalmers was ever married?” Kiana asked.

  “Don’t think so. Should I ask what that’s got to do with anything?”

  “Probably nothing,” Evan said.

  With that Dawson was gone.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I guess I can’t blame Mr. Todd for being angry Mr. Chalmers was suspended. I’d feel the same way if it was him who died and Gwen got suspended.”

  Funny Evan didn’t mention anything about the fire to Dawson. Seemed like the kind of subject a kid would talk about. It sure was on her mind. Maybe he deliberately didn’t say anything. Maybe he thought Dawson knew something about it. Kiana couldn’t imagine him anywhere near the auditorium.

  “Bummer that we didn’t have time to search any further at school,” Evan said.

  “I know. I really wanted to get into Mr. Reynolds’ office.”

  “Mr. Reynolds now? I thought you only wanted to do Chalmers’ and Philmore’s classrooms. Mind if I ask, why Reynolds?”

  “I have a feeling he knows more than he’s saying. The day Mrs. Deacon arrived—Monday—I overheard him saying he overheard a disagreement between Gwen and somebody.”

  “Somebody?”

  “Yes, I was on the way to meet Mrs. Deacon when Miss Shaw called me back to talk about the performance and I missed the rest of the conversation. But he definitely said he overheard Gwen having a disagreement.”

  “You don’t think it could be the same one I overheard?”

  “I don’t think so. It wasn’t possible for him to be there without you or the band seeing him.”

  “You think searching his office will turn up the answer to who it was?”

  “No. I just think it would be good to look, you know? Did you ever hear whether the cops searched in there?”

  Evan shook his head. “And I can’t see how us searching there can help anything.”

  Kiana could actually pinpoint the moment his expression closed. He wasn’t into the discussion any more.

  Evan drained half the cocoa and pushed the mug away. “Come on, let’s go home.”

  Kiana took a long sip from the cup. This place served the best hot chocolate in town and she wouldn’t be able to finish it, unless she wanted to walk home. Which she didn’t. She drew the napkin from under the mug. It now had a brown circle that had seeped through and blurred the ink. She folded it in quarters so the dampness was on the outside and pushed the thing into her pocket.

  Evan stood there waiting, zipping and unzipping his jacket. Something was going on with him. His face had that glazed look he got when he’d grown disinterested with a subject. He was probably just tired; she herself felt she’d been crushed by a steamroller.

  Kiana followed him from the shop and got on the bike. In a few minutes they pulled up in front of her house. The porch light was on, and so was the one over the kitchen stove—she could see it glowing out on the lawn. That light being on meant her mother had gone to bed. Kiana’s father was on the road again—a salesman for a pharmaceutical company.

  “I’ll see you about five, right?” Kiana said as she slid off the seat.

  “Uh…Kee.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

  He didn’t have to say it. He was quitting the investigation. Ditching her.

  She slipped the helmet strap down over the seat rest, even though her emotions were screaming out of control. “I understand. See you at school then.”

  “I’ll pick you up here at the regular time. Okay?”

  “Sure. I guess.”

  Kiana let herself carefully into the house. She hung her jacket in the hall closet and turned to see her mother standing at the foot of the stairs. “Hi.”

  “Hi. Everything all right? Rehearsal seems to have gone late.”

  “Everything’s fine,” Kiana lied. Then she added a measure of truth, “After rehearsal Mrs. Deacon ordered pizza. Her boyfriend came and we sat around talking about the case.”

  “Come up with any answers?”

  Wearily, she shook her head. “I’m going to bed.” She bent and kissed her mother on the temple.

  “You going out early again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Leave me a note.”

  “I will.”

  Kiana plodded up the stairs, knowing that tomorrow morning she’d be in Mr. Reynolds’ office but had no idea how she’d manage without Evan.

  NINETEEN

  Jarvis left Angelina’s hotel at 5:30 a.m. feeling both rejuvenated and exhausted. He located his car in the parking garage and sat in it a moment, letting the engine warm up. While speeding to Carlson after the conversation with Kiana yesterday afternoon, he’d received a call from Detective Rodriguez—head investigator on the Gwen Forest case.

  “I got something from that photograph,” Rodriguez had said in his slight Mexican accent. “Don’t know how it fits into the case, though.”

  “Want to meet someplace?” Jarvis had offered.

  “Yeah. Trouble is, I’m at a family thing right now. The wife would squash me with her father’s tractor if I left a minute early. I’m working midnight to seven. What if we meet about six?”

  “Works for me. I’m on my way to the school anyway,” he said. “Surprised you’re not already there.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Somebody set the school’s green room on fire.”

  “What!”

  Jarvis had heard exclaiming voices in the background, then a woman telling Rodriguez that if anybody from work was on the phone, he should hang up. Jarvis grinned and said, “The fire’s out. All is well, but I figured you would’ve been called in. No way it was an accident.”

  Rodriguez muttered something to which Jarvis didn’t ask for clarification.

  “I’ll find out more and probably see you there,” Rodriguez said.

  “Otherwise, I’ll see you at six.”

  * * * *

  They settled into a corner booth with coffees and hearty breakfasts. Detective Rodriguez worked under cover for the Nashua PD so, like Jarvis, he dressed in street clothes—blue jeans and a black long sleeved shirt. He wore his dark, shoulder length hair tied in a ponytail with a leather strap at the base of his neck, which negated any resemblance he might have to a police officer.

  Rodriguez took a long drag on the coffee, grimaced and added two heaping spoonfuls of sugar. Jarvis did likewise. “I guess I missed you at the school,” he said with a smirk.

  “Wiseass.”

  “Did they find out anything?”

  Rodriguez shook his head. “Fingerprint crew took samples but you know where that’ll go. Didn’t look like the janitors spent any time at that end of the building, ever.”

  “They’re there now. Sucking water from the seats. Blow drying the place with fans.”

  Rodriguez selected some pages from the seat beside him. “I got the arrest histories on the main suspects. Some interesting stuff.” He ate in silence, his attention more on Jarvis’ reaction to the paperwork than the food.

  Jarvis thumbed through the pages. “Where’s Josh Philmore? The kids—Evan and Kiana.”

  Rodriguez shook his head. “No records. We’re still collecting info on some
of the others. This isn’t CSI, you know.”

  Jarvis read, taking an occasional bite of the eggs. “Wow,” he finally said.

  “Which one?”

  “Most. For example, how did Randall Reynolds get the principal’s job with an arrest for marijuana possession on his record?”

  “Knew somebody in high places?”

  “Maybe.” Jarvis checked the dates on the paperwork. “He and Gwen were arrested at the same time. Granted, it was way back.”

  “For Gwen, as a teacher, would one arrest be a deal breaker?”

  “Dunno. Maybe not. But for a principal’s position…”

  “Right.” Rodriguez leaned back so the waitress could refill his coffee. “Remember that she got him the job? You think she somehow hid the information from the school board?”

  Jarvis leaned back so the waitress could fill his cup. Her eyes were on the stack of papers before him. She straightened up but didn’t leave. “Terrible thing that happened to that teacher.”

  “Did you know her?” Rodriguez asked, reverting to cop mode.

  “She came in a few times. Being so close to the school, everybody hangs out here.”

  “Can you recall anyone she came in with?”

  She set the pot on the edge of the table. “Most of the time with this guy who wore sweatsuits all the time. I think he was the football coach.”

  “Did she come in with anybody else?” Jarvis asked.

  “Sometimes with a bunch of teachers. Sometimes with a girl. A pretty girl. Matter of fact, she was just in here. With her boyfriend. At least I think it’s her boyfriend, they’re together all the time.”

  “Do you know her name?”

  “Not that I recall, but she has long black hair and dark skin.”

  “You say they were just here?”

  “A couple of hours ago. They were making plans to go…I think they said back to school.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Rodriguez fished out a business card and handed it to her. “If you think of anything else…”

  Once the waitress left, Rodriguez identified Kiana as the one who’d met with Gwen.