by T W Morse
“Now you, Ms. Reyes.” Hannah first hesitates but then complies.
Ms. Clifton closes trunk behind us.
“Ulysses, are you okay?” Hannah says, taking my head and feeling around for any blood.
“Yeah, yeah. Just a little dazed. Damn, that hurt. I don’t think I’m bleeding,” I reassure her.
“What do we do? We have no way of calling the police,” Hannah says, her voice cracking with fear.
“We see what she and the accomplice have in store and try to make a break for it. I should have listened to my dad. My stupid curiosity got us into this. I’m sorry, Hannah.”
“What are you talking about? I pushed you to investigate this. I make my own decisions, Ulysses Adair. I decided to seek the truth right by your side. We’re in this together. Okay?” Hannah smiles and gives me a kiss on my bruised head.
The trunk is cramped, and we practically have to lay on top of each other. We take turns looking through the keyhole of the trunk to see what Ms. Clifton is up to. We can see her take the gas can up to her apartment. Several minutes later, she comes out with smoke billowing behind her. Before we know it, the car has started and we are her prisoners.
CHAPTER 39
- LOGAN -
CONCUSSIONS ACCOMPANIED BY SQUEALING ARE NOT GOOD
“G
et on your feet!” a voice blares in my ear. The sound of the voice vibrates through my brain. I can’t even think. I blink my eyes, but they hurt, too. Everything from my neck up throbs. My head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, and I already have a pretty heavy head in the first place.
I bring my hand to my head, trying to feel the wound. No blood, that’s a good sign. Then I feel a welt the size of Florida on the back of my head. When I touch it, my head throbs louder. I fully open my eyes. They struggle to adjust to the lighting in the room. As they adjust, my head’s maddening beat continues its pressure. I am in my classroom, on the floor, near my smartboard.
“Christ!” I call out, as I fully wake and stand with shooting pain at every step.
“I’m glad you’re awake, Mr. Adair,” a frail elderly voice says from behind me. “You were awfully heavy, to drag next door to your classroom.” The voice snickers.
I turn to face my attacker and find a frail looking Ms. Simmons sitting on a desk holding a gun on me and blocking the only exit out of my classroom. “Good evening, Ms. Simmons,” I say condescendingly.
“You don’t seem surprised! Maybe it is true what you said to Principal Barron; you have figured it out — somehow!” she says coldly and collectedly.
“I knew you would be eavesdropping. Just like you did when Wright and Barron were fighting in the office last Friday. You took pleasure in seeing them squirm as you blackmailed them and plotted your revenge,” I say, taking a seat on top of a student’s desk opposite Ms. Simmons. “You were the only part of the puzzle that I didn’t have. I’ve known about your accomplice since the start of this charade. I didn’t quite peg you as the mastermind until today. During lunch, I looked closer at the picture Ulysses took from the Gallant home on my phone. I zoomed in on the face of Sally Gibbins. I looked into those wide leering green eyes. I said to myself, ‘I have seen those eyes on Ms. Simmons, or should I say Ms. Sally Gibbins,’” I accuse her and add, “You have aged poorly.” My confidence is building, and this game has gone on too long. “You can give up the act.” As I say this, she slowly grins at me and cackles.
She gradually comes to a standing position, stretching out to her full height, her back cracking from the prolonged hunched position. She is now about six inches taller. Her mannerisms even change. Her once frail, old body is now replaced with a much younger, more confident frame. She takes her left hand, the one not holding the gun, and starts to peel her face off. Not literally; she quickly peels away a layer of plastic wrinkles and throws her old face on the ground, never taking her eyes off of me, nor wavering in her aim. She then pulls off her dark grey wig, exposing a short-bobbed hairstyle. Shoulder pads and a small stomach pad are also discarded. She even spit out false teeth, revealing a nice set of white teeth. When everything is removed, a 70-year-old frail woman has transformed into a 50-year-old attractive woman, leering at me with a proud smile and wide green eyes. I slow clap in disgust.
“Yes, Mr. Adair, I am Sally Gibbins,” she says, now with a much younger, but still cold, voice.
“You’re quite the actress,” I coax.
“Well, that was my profession all those years ago. As you can see, I can fool anyone. Especially dumb men like Barron,” she smirks, waving the gun.
I am just about to ask her a question when my classroom door bursts open. The door knocks the desk over, sending Sally to the ground. As she falls, a big orange blur comes strolling in like he owns the place. It is Bob!
“Hey Logan, I was thinking...”
But before he can say another word, I yell at him, “Go get help! She has a gun!”
Bob looks down at Sally Gibbins, not recognizing her as Ms. Simmons. She has regained the gun, quickly recovering from her fall, and is about to shoot at Bob. He squeals, “Ah!” and runs out of my classroom for the exit.
Sally stands, aiming the gun at my chest just as I am getting up to follow Bob. Hopefully he can get help. But then I realize that this is Bob and sigh with regret.
Sally shows even more anger now. She quickly takes out her phone and dials a number. “Yeah, that idiot gym teacher saw me holding a gun on Adair. Are you here yet? Good. Stop him,” Sally orders into her phone while smiling at me.
CHAPTER 40
- ULYSSES -
AN UNEXPECTED FAMILY REUNION
T he car stops abruptly, throwing Hannah and I hard against each other. “You okay?” I ask Hannah.
“I’m good,” Hannah says in frustration.
Before we can get our bearings, the trunk pops open. It is now night, but I can still make out the barrel of the gun aimed at Hannah and me.
“Get out!” Ms. Clifton hisses. Hannah and I do as commanded while Ms. Clifton hides her gun under a jacket. “Walk!” she orders.
We are in the Mangrove High parking lot right by the front entrance. The lot is empty except a few cars, one being a silver Prius. Dad! Damn. The pink Mangrove High building looks a little creepy at night. Especially when the clouds in the distance expose bolts of lightning coming our way.
“Where are you taking us?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer.
“Shut up and walk!” she snarls again.
As we walk to the front door, Ms. Clifton answers her phone. “Yeah, I’m right at the entrance. Okay. With pleasure.” She smiles as she hangs up and gives me a key to unlock the front door. After we all file in, she quickly keys in the password on the alarm system. She then pulls out a bike chain and locks the front doors.
The hallway is almost pitch dark except for a bright, large orange object running toward us. For a second I think it is a running orange, but no — it is Mr. Nelson in his bright orange tracksuit. He is waving his hands hysterically, out of breath.
“Glad to see you guys! Logan is in trouble! There is a crazy woman with a gun! We need to call 911!” he squeaks, panting and out of breath. Mr. Nelson sees Ms. Clifton standing behind us and collects himself.
“Hey Mary,” he says in a deep, cool, collected voice. “How you doin’?” With that, she takes the gun hidden beneath her coat and points it at Mr. Nelson. “Oh man!” Mr. Nelson says, reverting back to his squeaky voice.
“Shut up, you idiot! Give me your phone and get walking,” Ms. Clifton says, disgusted. I think she’d been wanting to say that to Mr. Nelson for a while. Ms. Clifton marches us down the dark corridor, past the expansive staircase, and to the front of the office. When we reach the office door, we see another woman, holding a gun on Dad, coming out from his classroom. We all meet outside the office.
“Well, well, well. Isn’t this quite a family reunion!” a woman that looks slightly familiar says before yelling, “Get in the office!”
We do as we are commanded. Ms. Clifton closes the shades on the window of the office door and the windows that look out onto the hallway, clicking the door locked behind us.
Hannah gasps and I squeeze her hand tight because we can see into Principal Barron’s office, where his stiff body is lying dead on the floor.
“Logan Adair — look, I found your boy and his little girlfriend snooping around my apartment. I think they need a detention,” Ms. Clifton chuckles, enjoying her power. “Now they will share your fate. What did they say happened to the cat for being curious? Oh yeah, it died!”
Dad looks at me with surprise. “Ulysses, I thought I told you to stay out of this and stop investigating!”
“I know, but we didn't investigate the murder; we investigated the frame job on Terry and Jack. And you were right, they are linked. Ms. Clifton isn’t even her real name. She has conned us all and framed Terry and Jack,” I rapidly spit out my words, pointing at the fake Ms. Clifton.
“Oh, Mary. So that’s not your real name? Why do I always fall for the wrong woman?” Mr. Nelson squeaks, sounding more desperate than usual.
“You idiot. I only used you to get the key,” Ms. Clifton says.
“You mean you’re the one who stole my key? And put it back?” Mr. Nelson quips.
“She probably put it back on your keychain at Mr. Wright’s wake,” Dad reasons.
“Who are you?” Hannah says to the other woman working with Ms. Clifton and now holding a gun on all four of us.
“That is Ms. Simmons!” Dad shares with the rest of us. He also shares that she wore a disguise, and he found out after zooming in on the picture I took from the Gallant home. Dad then reveals her real identity is in fact Sally Gibbins.
“You’re little old — Simmons? She’s fine now, Logan. Girl, you clean up!” Mr. Nelson says.
We all shake our heads at Mr. Nelson. “Who are you really then?” Hannah asks, looking at Ms. Clifton.
“You’re Helena!” I proclaim.
“Good work, Ulysses,” Dad adds.
“You’re Helena Gallant, the twin sister to Hayden Gallant, and daughter to Toby Gallant. But you were murdered!” I continue, confused.
“I am Helena Gallant,” the woman we had known to be Ms. Mary Clifton confirms, putting a hand on Sally’s shoulder.
Sally makes us all stand behind the high office counter while both women point their guns at us on the other side near Ms. Simmons’ desk.
“What are your plans for us?” Dad asks.
“I was going to frame you for Principal Barron’s death, but now I will just have to tweak the story. I am going to shoot all of you and frame Principal Barron for your murders. Can’t you see it? Principal kills a group of amateur sleuths investigating Donald Wright’s murder and then takes his own life. We even have a suicide note, confessing to Donald Wright’s murder.” Sally Gibbins laughs at this, while we all gasp. “I want to know how you knew what we had done!” she says, wagging her gun at Dad.
Dad starts to go through all the events. “Well, Ms. Clifton, or Helena as she is really known, never seemed quite like an educator. An assistant principal would have had a giddy school-girl demeanor worn out of her long ago from the stress of dealing with parents and students. There is also her calloused hands, she claimed from rock climbing, but she couldn’t answer simple questions about the sport. Then Ulysses said there was a mysterious digger at the old Gallant home, which is now being renovated by Mr. O’Leary. That’s a good way to get calloused hands. Ulysses shared the article about the Gallant family murders, and I thought, what if Ms. Clifton was digging at the Gallants’ because she in fact was a Gallant. Maybe Helena, one of the twins. Her age matches. And she was searching for something lost all those years ago. I also suspected her when she came on strong to Bob, too. What could she possibly want while being so unprofessional?”
“Logan! Come on, man; help a brother out,” Mr. Nelson chimes in.
“Sorry, Bob. Those are all weird coincidences around the time of Donald Wright’s murder. And I don’t believe in coincidences. Ms. Clifton must have known about the mechanical room from her accomplice, someone working on the inside of Mangrove High. The mechanical room would have been a great, quiet place to kill Mr. Wright and frame Principal Barron. But only Barron, the custodian, and Bob had that key. A custodian would’ve immediately noticed a missing key and reported it. But Bob only uses that key occasionally. So, warming up to an easy target, such as Bob, with a pretense of stealing that key and putting it back later, was perfect.”
“I can’t believe I liked you!” Mr. Nelson squeaks before Dad gives him a look to be quiet.
Dad continues on, now pointing his finger at Helena. “You would have needed an accomplice to inform you that Bob had the key and was very susceptible to the opposite sex. Ms. Simmons probably overheard Bob going on about how special he was for having all the school’s keys in either the teachers’ room or the office. The night of the game was perfect, too. Hundreds of witnesses would see you out in the gymnasium, while Mr. Wright would have a blue piece of paper that said ‘Come to the mechanical room with the jeweled knife.’ The killer would lie in wait after the mechanical room was unlocked earlier that day. We also found out that the stab wound came from a much shorter person, most likely a woman, about your height.”
“Why frame Terry and Jack?” Hannah asks.
Dad continues, “Good question, Hannah! Why indeed? The frame job of Terry and Jack, by Ms. Clifton, to plant and then find the drugs in two high-profile seniors playing that night in the basketball game was just a ploy. She used this as a distraction to get into the school on a Saturday. After framing Terry and Jack, you snuck down to the gymnasium and unlocked the door to the mechanical room, opening the exit door at the end of the tunnel, where Sally Gibbins then waited for Mr. Wright. Helena duct taped the lock on the way out to ensure Mr. Wright had no problems getting into the mechanical room.”
“Why did they do this? Revenge?” I ask Dad.
“Revenge, of course, but as I found out today, it’s also because of money. Your big revenge problem was complicated by the fact that Donald Wright didn’t have the jeweled knife; neither of them knew where the knife was,” Dad says, while taking a moment to tell us about how he found out about the jeweled knife, known as the Royal Cinquedea.
“So, you didn’t give up investigating either?” I ask.
“Ah — no. Sorry, Ulysses. I guess I couldn’t let it go either. But I think this knife is what Helena was searching for in the backyard of the Gallant home. You two didn’t count on Ulysses, Hannah, and me following Principal Barron into the mechanical room, providing him the perfect alibi and preventing you two from framing him. How am I doing so far?”
“Fine,” Sally responds, grinding her teeth. “Go on.”
“I knew it had to be an inside job to allow Helena to con people to think she was Mary Clifton, our new cheerful assistant principal. I also knew whoever was working with Ms. Clifton was also spying on us, trying to find out what we knew and trailing the kids and me to Penny University.”
“She was the woman who bumped into Lisa — our waitress,” Hannah says with Dad nodding in agreement
Dad continues. “Ms. Clifton, or Helena, saw me take the picture of the photograph at the Mr. Wright’s wake. So that is when you both decided to kill Mr. Barron and frame us. Then, as I said, I took a closer look at the photo and saw you, Sally Gibbins, were actually pretending to be the frail unassuming Ms. Simmons. I’m sure if the police check Ms. Simmons’ records they would find another stolen identity. As an office secretary, you wouldn’t be questioned by a principal when you pushed for the hiring of a new assistant principal. We only needed a new one because one of you killed our old assistant principal, Mr. Peters, so there would be room to hire a new one. An assistant principal that would have access and privilege.” When Dad shares this, everyone shows horror, even the women holding the guns on us. “An assistant principal that you would make sure got hired, throwing out re
sumes of qualified candidates. It would be easy for the principal’s assistant to pretend to call references for Mr. Barron. You also made sure Mrs. Lafayette came down with a bad case of the flu so she would not catch on to your devious plans.”
“No. No — that wench does have the flu,” Sally Gibbins says, smiling.
Dad finishes, “Also, I remembered the faculty meeting when Ms. Clifton was introduced, she thanked Mr. Donald Barron instead of Thomas Barron. I didn’t think much of it until now, but I think you were messing with him and he didn’t realize it. Donald Wright, his old business partner in smuggling drugs, comes out of the woodwork to say he is being blackmailed!” We all listen with our mouths open to all the new evidence and revelations Dad uncovered.
“Well done, Mr. Adair. I applaud your detective skills,” Sally says in her cold voice, staring at him with her beady green eyes.
“What I don’t know is what happened the night of the murders twenty-eight years ago,” Dad says, cool and collected, to Sally and Helena, who are still both holding guns on us.
CHAPTER 41
- ULYSSES -
THE GALLANT MURDERS
S ally Gibbins leans against the office desk that used to belong to her alter ego — Ms. Simmons. She starts to speak with a creepy, somber voice. “Thirty years ago, we moved to Somerset from New York City. That is, my brother Anthony Gibbins and his business partners, Toby Gallant and Donald Wright, moved from New York, with me and my sister, Samantha. I had been an actress living in New York, living with my brother. Samantha was in love with Toby. They always took care of us.”
As she says this, she looks at the ceiling to hold back tears before continuing. “I didn’t know what kind of business my brother was in, but I would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth. I gave up my career on Broadway to follow him to Florida. Samantha eventually married Toby and gave birth to a beautiful set of twins, Helena and Hayden. Life was good! Samantha and Toby built a beautiful house near conservation land. We were so happy.”
