by Max Parrott
As for visions... the one she had missed out on, the one she had skipped past, still haunted her. Perhaps if she had seen it, she would already know who had killed Oliver. But now she was on her own. Nothing but the regular, normal, non-psychic part of her mind to figure this puzzle out.
Sampson eyed her as he came down the front walk, unlocking his own car and climbing inside.
"He'll follow us to Wildwood," Barrett said as he got behind the wheel. "And I think that's everyone."
Jasmine nodded. It was 10:15 p.m.. The night was dark, but not so dark as it could have been. The crescent moon shone through, its glow reflecting and redoubling off the cloud cover. But a storm front seemed to be moving in fast. The thin, gray clouds began to muster their forces, gathering into dense, black thunderheads. Jasmine heard the first rumblings as they turned around and headed out of town, toward the college. As they zoomed along the deserted road, past hushed forests, the first raindrops began to fall. They splattered against the windshield in huge drops. Slowly at first, and then in stunning multitudes. Barrett switched on his high beams and slowed down, wary of every curve on the road. With a curtain of rain always a few feet ahead of them, it was difficult to see what was coming.
"Well, it's a good night for it anyway," he said with a smile. "Dark and stormy."
Jasmine twisted around, staring out through the rain-blurred back window at the set of headlights behind them. Sampson was still following them. A display of innocence? If he was guilty and scared, she thought he might have peeled off and skipped town. But if he was guilty and confident... why not play along? He would know there was no real evidence, or else he would have been arrested rather than asked along to some late-night game of charades.
Jasmine smiled, petting Luffy where he lay in the backseat. Getting a good nap in after the events of the day. He snored almost loud enough to drown out the rain.
"Here we are," Barrett said.
Wildwood appeared around the corner. Only the bare minimum of lights were on, lighting the grounds in little pools of yellow light that stood few and far between. The entire building and especially the clock tower loomed against the stormy sky, shadowed and silent.
But Wildwood was not abandoned, not even at this late hour. There were five cars already parked in the same lot, separated by empty spaces. Just off the parking lot, up a narrow pathway, a sheltered doorway stood open and waiting, letting out a pool of light upon the wet pavement.
Barrett pulled into an empty spot and put the car into park. They waited as Sampson Hawke parked his own car and got out, staring at them through the rain with a look of annoyed expectance.
Jasmine got out first, opening the back for Luffy. He climbed out clumsily, pausing with only his front paws on the pavement to stretch. His eyes were still half closed, blinking every time a drop of rain hit them.
"Are we there yet?" he asked.
"We're here," Jasmine said. She looked at Barrett. "Whatever happens, I have a feeling this is going to be the end. Do you trust me?"
He nodded. "Obviously."
Standing a few yards away, Sampson impatiently tapped his watch.
"I have a bed time, you know," he said.
"Hold your horses, old man," Luffy barked.
Obviously Sampson did not understand the words, but he still took a startled step back. Clearly his conscience was guilty about the affair at least, and what Luffy had seen. He looked at Jasmine with fear in his eyes for a moment. Perhaps he was wondering how much she knew. After all, Luffy could not have been out there at his house alone.
Barrett led the way inside. They walked down a side hallway and entered the music room. Everything but the chairs had been moved aside; everyone else was already gathered and waiting.
Charles Dane had abandoned his chair in favor of restless pacing. Lyle Bridges stood alone, sipping from a metal flask in the shadows of the corner. His wife was chatting animatedly with Alicia, who looked quite disquieted and uncomfortable. Joe sat somewhat near to her, looking like he wanted to help but not daring to try for fear of the wicked woman.
The Whitakers, sans their young child, sat close together and held hands, looking perhaps like the most nervous of the bunch. They were all jumping legs and chewed lips.
Professor Keller alone seemed perfectly disinterested in what was going on. He had even brought a book, and was seated on the floor with his back against the wall, reading it.
Dean DuPont look angrier than anything. He stood in the middle of the room, ranting about how they were all being abused and manipulated. No one seemed to be listening to him very closely, but he had still taken on the galvanized conviction of a successful leader. He whipped around to face Jasmine and Barrett as they entered.
"Sampson," he said. "I see they've dragged you here too."
"Can it, DuPont," Barrett said. "You didn't have to come unless you wanted to."
"You really think I had a choice?" DuPont asked. "Did you think I was going to let a gathering like this happen at my college without me being present?"
"I was kind of hoping you might, yeah," Barrett replied.
DuPont frowned. "You're angry with me, Luke. Ever since I turned down your application to attend Wildwood, you've blamed me for everything."
"No, I just don't like you very much. There's a difference. I'm happy with my career."
DuPont made a face like a duck and turned away.
"Alright," Barrett called out across the room. "Everyone pay attention now. Jasmine, you have the floor."
She nodded, watching nervously as all eyes turned toward her. Barrett dragged a chair closer to the center of the room and sat down. Sampson remained standing and moved over near Keller, his arms folded.
"I called you all here to set a few things straight," Jasmine announced. "And hopefully to get to the bottom of what happened to Oliver Bridges."
A few wary glances passed around the room. Jasmine took note of them.
"First off, I want to say that this meeting has no time limit," she said. "I've asked Officer Barrett to keep you all here until I'm satisfied. It could be ten minutes, or two hours. It all depends."
"On what?" Sampson demanded.
"On how much I can learn," said Jasmine.
Sandra Bridges sneered. "Who died and made you Inspector?"
"A guy named Jack Torres," Jasmine replied. "Thanks for asking. The local police have asked me to help out, and I'm taking that job seriously."
"It's true," Lyle added. "She's taking it very seriously indeed. The girl has nerves of steel, so I wouldn't mess with her if I were any of you."
He laughed and went on sipping at his flask. To him, this seemed like the entertainment of the century.
"So," Keller said, bookmarking his page and placing the book in his lap. "Where do we begin?"
"First I need to identify someone," she said, pointing at Lucille's husband.
"Me?" he asked.
Jasmine nodded.
"She means she needs to know your name and who you are," said Lyle.
"Uh... well, I'm Marshall. Marshall Whitaker. Lucille is my wife."
"Marshall. Good to meet you. I'm Jasmine Moore."
"The sleuth," he said with a nod, his eyes shifting nervously to another member of the gathering.
Jasmine nodded. "I wanted to ask you something. And you, Lucille. I've often seen Marshall walking around at Wildwood late in the afternoon..."
Marshall smiled. "That's easy to explain. I've been picking up Lucille from work every day. I come to Wildwood when I get out and wait for her to finish. I feel weird about being in the buildings, so I usually walk around outside."
"Lucille, don't you have a car of your own?" Jasmine asked. "I remember I used to see your driving."
Lucille nodded. "I had a car of my own. Some thug decided to slash my tires. We've been saving up for the baby, so we haven't gotten new tires yet."
"That's right," said Marshall. "It's easy enough for me to just come pick her up. I work in the city, and it's o
n my way home."
"Okay. That makes sense. What's the latest you would say you've been at Wildwood, Mr. Whitaker?"
Marshall shrugged. "I don't know. Six. Seven, maybe."
"Thank you. That's all I need for now." Jasmine turned to the left. "Charles, I need to hear something from you now."
He stopped pacing and stared at her expectantly. He didn't look angry or worried. He just looked tired and vaguely bored, now.
"Go ahead," he said. "I have all night. Nothing waiting for me at home but an energy drink and a load of homework."
Jasmine once again brought out the bag containing the ring. Lyle let out a laugh and Sandra abruptly stopped talking. She was unable to suppress the gasp that came rushing out of her mouth.
"Do you recognize this?" Jasmine asked.
Charles stared for a moment in utter confusion. "I suppose I do after all. I remember now. It was sitting on Professor Keller's desk one day. I'm sure it's the same one."
"It is," Keller called from across the room.
"It came with a note," Jasmine said. "A note from Oliver Bridges. The ring might have contained some sort of evidence. But that was all ruined when you, Charles, started messing with it."
He shrugged. "It's just a ring. Besides, it was left before Oliver died. What sort of evidence could it possibly hold?"
"The identity of the wearer, perhaps," said Jasmine.
At that, Sandra relaxed. It was subtle. You would only notice if you were explicitly watching for it.
Charles shrugged again.
"I just want to know," Jasmine said, "why you felt the need to touch it?"
"Care to share with the class?" Sampson asked, his arms still folded. Sandra shot him a look, but it seemed the man couldn't help himself.
"If you all insist that I do so," said Charles. He stood up straight, clenching his jaw. "Alright, I'll say it. Perhaps I have been looking for a gift for a certain someone. Perhaps even unconsciously I have been looking for this gift, so that when I saw a pretty ring all alone without an obvious owner my fingers decided of their own accord to start toying with it. Perhaps, when I realized what I was doing and that such a ring couldn't possibly not have an owner when found in that context, I took my hands away."
He turned to face the room, and went on.
"There is a girl at Wildwood College whom I adore," he said. "She is known to you, Alicia. As you understand from the favor I asked of you. I do not care to reveal her identity at this moment. But I'm guilty only of the crime of love."
"And being a complete jerkwad," Luffy put in.
But Jasmine felt herself melting, some inner part of her going soft.
Alicia nodded along with all of this. The rest of the room was soon nodding as well.
"I didn't kill Oliver," Charles said. "It was true that I was angry at him, but I was angrier at myself for putting all of my eggs in one basket. Besides, anger is a far cry from hatred. And, seeing as I am not a psychopath, true hatred is the only thing that could ever motivate me to kill. Or self-defense, I suppose."
"Maybe Oliver attacked you," Sampson proposed.
"Don't be ridiculous," Lyle Bridges replied. "My son wouldn't attack anyone."
"But maybe," Jasmine said, turning to Oliver's father, "you didn't know your son in the same way as some people here. Professor Keller, isn't it true that Oliver was an annoyance in your class? That he would often talk over you and correct your statements?"
Keller nodded slowly. For the first time, he looked to be invested in this meeting.
"If he corrected this man," Lyle said, "it was because the professor got something wrong. My Oliver was passionate about knowledge, and the thought of letting any mistake slip past and root itself in the minds of his fellow students would have been akin to you, Jasmine, watching someone kick that dog of yours in the ribs and doing nothing about it."
Luffy barked. Jasmine winced at the thought.
"I don't doubt that about Oliver," she said. "But his passion for knowledge could have been misinterpreted. It could have festered as anger and then as hatred which, as Charles said, is a pretty good precursor to murder. So, what do you say, Professor Keller?"
"Did I kill Oliver?" he asked. "The thought is too crazy to entertain. I didn't like the kid, but my plan was just to bide my time until he was out of my class. Nothing more."
"Forgive me, Jasmine," Charles said, "but isn't this pointless? It's all he said, she said. Obviously no one's going to come out and say they killed the sod."
Jasmine nodded. "No. You're right. And I didn't think they would. But this whole time, I've been watching. I've been reading between the lines."
"Oh, here we go," Luffy said excitedly. "You're all in deep trouble, now."
"There's something going on here that I was confused about for the longest time," Jasmine went on. "But I think I'm starting to see it. The way I understand it now, there were three people somehow involved in Oliver's death."
"Wait, what?" Sampson demanded, stepping forward. "You can't just come out and say that! Where's your proof?"
"Hopefully, I won't need any proof," Jasmine replied. "Because I don't have any."
There were several other gasps. Lyle paused mid drink and stared at her.
"Like I said," she went on. "Three people were involved, but only one person actually killed him. That's the way I see it."
"Then what did the other two do?" Charles asked. "Tie the boy's shoelaces together so he was easier to trip?"
"Watch your mouth," Lyle snapped. "This isn't a joke."
"It seemed like a big joke to you a minute ago," said Charles. "Maybe you killed him."
"He didn't," Jasmine said. "At least, I don't think he did."
She felt a gentle touch on her elbow from behind, followed by quiet words from Barrett.
"I don't mean to interrupt," he said. "But we're going to need a stronger case than that."
"I'm working on it," Jasmine whispered back.
"Who were the three people?" Sandra asked.
"I only know two of them," said Jasmine. "They didn't help kill Oliver. They weren't accomplices. But they were witnesses. And for some reason they haven't come forward."
Everyone started looking around at each other, eyes wide with suspicion and fear.
"Who?" Charles asked.
"Lucille and Marshall," Jasmine said, pointing at them. "You two saw something. Didn't you?"
The husband and wife looked at each other. They looked like two people who were drowning, sharing one last moment of love before they sank down into the deeps and drifted away.
"But I won't press too hard on that right now," Jasmine added, throwing them a life preserver. "Actually, I want to talk more about this ring."
She opened the bag and dumped the piece of jewelry in question into her palm. Holding it out, she ambled around the room for a moment, looking at everyone, hold the ring up to their hands. The men smiled nervously, and Alicia and Lucille's eyes sparkled as they imagined such a ring belonging to them.
Finally, Jasmine came to Sandra Bridges. She grabbed the woman's hand and slid the ring onto the appropriate finger. The band and the gem perfectly covered a pale spot on the naked digit.
"It's your ring," Jasmine said.
"Well, I could have told you that," Sandra replied in a huff. "What a detective you are. My son must have taken it from me to use as collateral. He was always playing games, trying to use me for things..."
"No, he wasn't," Jasmine replied. "Your son wanted no drama. He loved you, and all he wanted was a normal life. But you're a miserable, terrible wife and a worse mother."
Sandra stared as though she had been slapped. Evidently she was not used to being talked to like that at all. She was stunned, forgetting even to be angry.
"Oliver had his reasons for what he did with the ring," Jasmine said. "I don't understand fully what they were. But I do know something that two people in this room have tried really hard to keep them hidden. A secret."
For a moment
all was silent. You could have heard a pin drop. But instead, Jasmine heard a metallic clink as Lyle finally capped his flask and slipped it into his pocket.
"Mr. Bridges," Jasmine said. "Did you know Sandra was having an affair?"
He shrugged, seemingly unperturbed. "I generally assume she's having an affair at all times."
"But you didn't know for sure?"
He shook his head. "No."
"And you had no idea who she might be having an affair with?"
He shook his head again. Across the room, Sampson suddenly coughed a couple of times and crouched down to tighten the laces on his shoe.
"Do either of you want to admit what you've been doing?" said Jasmine.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sandra spat. "You're a nosy little fool and I think DuPont should run you out of here, if he has any backbone at all."
"I won't be dictated to in my school!" DuPont shouted. "Just because your husband owns Pineapple-"
"I own Pineapple as well," Sandra replied. "Lyle and I are married."
"Maybe not for long," Lyle said quietly. "Go ahead, Jasmine. Don't let these morons get you off track. Tell us."
She nodded and all eyes were back on her, though some of them clearly wished to be looking at something else. A beach, or the bottom of a glass. Anything but her.
"Sampson Hawke and Sandra Bridges were having an affair," she said. "I don't know how long it's been going on, but Oliver knew about it. And I think it's possible that one of them killed him to keep the secret hidden."
Sampson looked startled at first, and then fully outraged.
"You think I could have killed Oliver?" he barked. "I had nothing to lose by him knowing about Sandra and I!"
"So you admit it," Lyle said.
"Yes, I admit it. I do, alright? It's been going on for six months."
"Seven," Sandra hissed.
"Whatever."
"So, I see how much I mean to you," she said, turning her head away from him. "You forget how long we've been seeing each other, and you throw me under the bus. You try and have me blamed for killing my own son."
"Well, it would have to be you!" Sampson said, stepping forward. "Jasmine, you must understand. You're smart. I'm sure you know what's going on. If Lyle ever found out about us, he would have asked for a divorce."
