She looked up, her eyes shiny with unshed tears of exasperation. She sighed. “I accidentally dropped it and the thread unwound when the spool rolled across the floor. I don’t know how it got so messy so fast. I always do things like this.”
I chuckled. “Thread has a tendency to do that. Just cut it off.” Amanda was a junior and was prone to fits of frustration. If things didn’t work out correctly the first time, anxiety set in quickly.
She sighed. “All right. I just hate when this happens.”
“What are you making?” I asked her. I thought she had been working on curtains for her mother’s kitchen, but a black skirt was in her lap now.
“My skirt. It’s for the spring concert. The hem came out, and I thought I could hem it in class, but it’s turning out to be more of a job than I had expected.” She looked up at me, her usual cheery demeanor having returned.
“I didn’t know you were in choir. The concert sounds like fun. Do you enjoy singing?”
She sighed again and her shoulders slumped. “I do enjoy it and it usually is fun, but this year everything seems weird and not as much fun.”
“Oh?” I asked. “What do you mean by weird?”
She shrugged. “Miss Baines is acting funny.” She looked at me guiltily. “I guess I shouldn’t tell you another teacher is acting funny. I don’t mean any disrespect by it.”
“No, no. That’s all right. But, what do you mean by saying she’s acting funny?”
She thought about it a moment. “Lately she sits and stares off into space. And then she’s been absent three days this week, and we had a substitute that can’t even sing. We’ve been trying to practice in class, but some of the kids just wanted to goof off and the substitute didn’t do anything. Everything’s a mess. I’m dreading the show. Everyone will be there, and we haven’t practiced nearly enough.”
That made me wonder. “Miss Baines is just staring off into space during class? She isn’t helping you prepare for the show?”
She nodded. “She seems distracted. She forgot what songs our class is singing and then she argued with us when we told her. Sometimes she’s just grumpy and snappy. I don’t understand it.”
“That is weird behavior for her, isn’t it?” I asked. I couldn’t remember hearing any complaints about Miss Baines from other teachers. Usually, if a teacher wasn’t performing their job well, it got around.
She nodded. “Yes, she’s usually very attentive. But she’s been sick, so I suppose it might be that. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I bet she’ll be better next week.”
“Is the Spring concert on Monday evening?” I asked her. I wondered about Ellen. She hadn’t seemed very sick when Peggy and I had stopped by her house, but maybe she had some other sort of trouble and didn’t want to say what it was, so she said she had the flu instead.
“Yes, Monday at seven. Are you going to be there, Mrs. Taylor?”
“I think I might try to make it. Mr. Taylor and I enjoy attending school functions. It’s fun to see our students doing something other than what we do in our classes.”
She smiled now. “That will be fun. I’ll watch for you in the audience.”
“You do that,” I said. “And don’t worry about the show. I bet things will work out.”
I stepped over to my desk as Peggy appeared at the classroom doorway. She waved me over.
“What’s going on?” I whispered when I got to her.
“Step outside,” she said, backing up. Her eyes were big, and I knew she had some news.
I looked over my shoulder at the class, then walked out the door. We stepped over to the side so they wouldn’t hear us. “What’s up?”
“I forgot to tell you. I heard Principal Jefferson bought a new set of white wall tires for his car last week.”
“Really?” I said slowly. “A full set?”
She nodded. “My neighbor, Ann Marie Finster was at the Salyers Garage and saw him there last Thursday evening. She said he bought four new whitewall tires and paid cash for them. When she asked him about them, he seemed to get angry at the question. But then he said the ones he had were worn out.”
I whistled. “Whitewall tires are expensive. I wonder why he paid cash for them?”
“And why did he need a full set? Right after two teachers were run over?” Her eyebrows went up. “Know what I mean?”
It did make me wonder. “It doesn’t seem like your tires would be ruined after running someone over though.”
“I don’t know, I’ve never tried running anyone over.” She chuckled. “But maybe it would cause damage to the tires. It just seems suspicious, if you ask me.”
“It is suspicious,” I agreed. “I wonder why he didn’t write a check for them? That’s a lot of cash to be carrying when you could just write a check.” Had Principal Jefferson damaged the tires he’d had on his car and needed to replace them?
“Strange, isn’t it? Maybe he thought if he paid cash for them there’d be no trace of the transaction.” She tilted her head when she said it, giving me a knowing smile.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” My Bel Air has whitewall tires on it and although I hadn’t needed to replace them yet, I was dreading it. I told Daniel I didn’t need them, but he insisted they made the car look fancy.
“I’ve got a hunch about Jefferson,” she said, folding her arms in front of herself. “And that hunch is that he did it.”
“Every time I hear his name, it makes me think he had something to do with those murders,” I agreed.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if he did it and they arrested him? We’d be free of him!” she practically giggled when she said it.
“Oh, you,” I said. “We shouldn’t get happy at the possibility of him spending the rest of his life in jail. Although it would make our lives easier. We could get a decent principal that was nice and would make changes that improved the school instead of making our lives harder.”
“It would make our lives so much easier,” she agreed “Are you going to tell Robert about the tires? He needs to investigate.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to mention it. After all, he’s the one that has to decide if it’s important to the case or not. But he does need to know about it in order to decide if it’s important.”
“Exactly. I can’t believe I almost forgot about it. I had better get back to my class or they’ll turn the heat up so high beneath the fried chicken that it will set the place on fire.”
I chuckled. “Fried chicken sounds good.”
“It’s a basic, and every girl needs to know how to make juicy fried chicken. And my ninth graders need basic skills. Believe me. They need those skills.”
“I bet they do. I’ll talk to you later.”
I headed back into my classroom. If I had to make a guess, I would say Principal Jefferson was the obvious choice as the killer. He hadn’t liked either men, and he was just the kind of person that might kill someone. And it relieved me of thinking there was any possibility that Christine could have had something to do with it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Miss Taylor,” Principal Jefferson said from behind me as I walked to my car. I considered continuing to walk and pretending I hadn’t heard him, but I knew that even if I managed to get out of the parking lot, I couldn’t avoid him forever.
I turned and looked at him. “Missus,” I corrected.
He gave me a smarmy smile. “Mrs. Taylor,” he said. “May I have a word with you?”
There was a smart alecky retort on my lips, but I pushed it down. “Yes, Principal Jefferson?” Students passed us, heading to the bus or to their own vehicles. The student parking lot was on the far side of the faculty parking lot and the busses picked up the students there.
He stepped closer. “Have you heard the rumors?”
I sighed. “I try not to get involved with listening to rumors. No good can come of it.”
He ignored this. “Christine Tidwell is, uh, in the family way. That’s the rumor, anyway. Do you
know if it’s true?”
I sighed. No way was he getting that information out of me. “What makes you think I would know?”
He stopped smiling. “I’ve noticed she seems to have taken a liking to you. Is it true?”
“I told you, I try not to get involved with rumors. Honestly, Principal Jefferson, you know how this school is. The kids spread rumors like they spread butter on hot bread. In a short time, the butter and the gossip melt away. Why would you take the time to listen?”
He shrugged. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Everything isn’t made up, you know.”
I nodded. “As I said, I like to avoid that sort of thing. I’ve got more important things to do. Like, live my life.”
His jaw tightened. “Listen, Mary, I’d really like for you to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Do you think you can ask her?”
Mary? He had never called me by my first name.
“Why is it so important to you?”
He shrugged. “The school’s reputation. We need to protect it and we can’t have a pregnant girl walking across the stage at graduation.”
Ah. There it was. He wanted to stop her from graduating. Again. Well, he wasn’t going to get my help with that. I rolled my eyes. “If the girl earned her diploma, then she earned it, regardless of whether she’s pregnant or not. I am not going to ask her based on a rumor. Why don’t you just leave her alone and let her graduate?”
His jaw tightened and his hands formed fists at his side. “I told you. The school has a reputation to uphold. We can’t let girls like—like that walk across the stage in front of everyone.”
“Why don’t you worry about the murder of two of your teachers and let the kids alone? The sooner they graduate, the sooner you won’t have to deal with them,” I suggested. “It seems funny that you aren’t terribly concerned about two murdered teachers.”
His eyes bulged, and his face went red. “Mrs. Taylor, I don’t think the reputation of this school is anything to take lightly. And I’m sure the police are investigating the murders. They can do their job without interference from anyone. They can do their job, can’t they?”
I eyed him and decided against what I really wanted to say. “Sure they can. Just seems odd that gossip about a student is so important to you.”
“Everything that happens at this school is important to me.”
“Really? Even gossip? It also seems funny that you were so gung-ho about putting on a memorial for a murdered teacher that you really didn’t like. Why did you do that, Principal Jefferson?”
He stared at me. “Reputation, Mrs. Taylor. Reputation.”
Or money, I thought. He had to have an angle, and if Darren’s family was as well off as Bill had suggested, it was the money. “The reputation of the school could be better served by helping the police with the investigation instead of focusing on students that are just trying to graduate.”
His face turned purple with anger for a moment, but then he suddenly seemed to get ahold of himself. He breathed out and relaxed. “How is the police investigation going?”
“I haven’t spoken to anyone about it. Don’t they keep in touch with you?” I had thought he would be pestering the police on a daily basis.
“I haven’t spoken to anyone, either. I figured you would know something, seeing as how it’s your brother that’s doing the investigating,” he said.
I shrugged. “He can’t tell me what he knows about the investigation. Tell me, Principal Jefferson, what do you think happened?”
He smiled. “I think Christine Tidwell might know a thing or two about what happened.”
I grimaced. “I don’t think so. But do you know what’s interesting? The fact that Bill Woods died after he managed to get the money you wanted for academics funneled into the football program. On several occasions, from what I hear.”
He blanched and then swallowed hard. “What are you trying to say, Mrs. Taylor? That I had something to do with the murders?”
I shrugged. I was on thin ice here, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want Christine’s name thrown around based on gossip alone. It was bad enough that the other kids were talking about her. She didn’t need the principal of the school adding to it. “I don’t know. Did you? Did you murder them?”
Now his face turned red. “Mrs. Taylor, that is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard! How can you think such a thing? I am a professional and I resent the question.” I was pretty sure steam was about to come out of his ears, but I let him talk. Maybe he’d say something telling. “I have half a mind to bring this up before the school board. Someone like you shouldn’t be allowed to teach.”
It was at that point that I saw Peggy walking across the parking lot behind him. I leaned slightly to the left so I could get a better look at her and she smiled when she saw me do it. Then she realized the buffoon in front of me was Jefferson and she stopped. As Jefferson yapped on about speaking to the school board about me, she put her finger to her head in a makeshift gun and pulled the trigger. I had to bite my lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Principal Jefferson, I’m sorry if I offended you,” I said, trying to sound contrite. I was beginning to regret what I’d said. If he did report me, it might really mean my job, and I did enjoy the students. “I just wondered about it is all.”
His lips formed a hard line. “Look, I can appreciate that everyone is worried about who the killer is, or killers, if there are more than one, but I will not stand for you making accusations like that.”
“More than one killer? I’ve never heard that there might be more than one,” I said, tilting my head in thought.
“Well—well, I don’t know that there’s more than one, of course. But there were two murders, so why wouldn’t it be possible that there’s more than one killer?”
Now he sounded flustered, and it made me think again that Robert should take a closer look at him. Had he had an accomplice? Had he killed Darren and Bill? I had only asked him about the finances going to the football team to irritate him, but his reaction made me wonder.
“Sure, I suppose there could be two killers,” I said thoughtfully.
He nodded curtly. “Of course there could be two killers. Why couldn’t there be? Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have to be going. I want you to keep an eye on Christine Tidwell. If she so much as bats an eye inappropriately, I want to hear about it.”
“Sure thing,” I said as he brushed past me and headed to his own car. I watched him go.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
I turned around. “Oh Peggy, you know how Jefferson is. He’s suspicious of everyone. But you know, I think you might have something when you said Bill had mentioned taking the funds from Jefferson’s pet projects and getting them allocated to the football program.”
“Really? What did he say?” she asked.
“Nothing really, it was more his reaction. He about blew his top when I mentioned it.”
She nodded. “See, I think he’s got something to hide. It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he was the killer.”
“Do you think he might have had an accomplice? I mean, I can hardly see him running someone down by himself. How did he get them out on their front lawns, to begin with?” I asked, trying to picture it. “No one likes him and if he showed up to your house late at night, would you come outside?”
“Ew, no. But I can see him running someone over. In fact, that’s an easy way to kill someone. You don’t have to get too close to them, and then you can drive off afterward.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “But I do wonder if he had someone lure them outside. I’m going to talk to Robert about it.”
“I guess it might have made it easier if he had an accomplice. What does Robert say about the murders?” she asked as we walked toward our cars.
“He says to keep my nose out of it. Lot of good that will do. Telling me not to get involved, I mean.”
“Yeah, he should know you’re nosy and you aren’t going to listen to him.
”
“Nosy?” I said
“Yes, nosy. You’ve always been that way. Just ask Daniel.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, that’s what you say. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
I got into my car and lowered the top. The day had turned warm and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. A drive around town was in order. The more I thought about things, the more I thought Jefferson could have killed both Bill and Darren. He was sneaky and crafty. I doubted he’d lose a wink of sleep over it, either. He was trying to shift attention to Christine for a reason. I needed to find Robert and see what he thought about it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Well, hello there,” Robert said when he opened the door. Then he called over his shoulder, “Honey, it’s the Taylors. Break out the champagne. We’ve got fancy folk here.”
I slapped him on the arm and pushed past him. “Don’t mind him, Beryl. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
She came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “I tell him that all the time. He never listens.”
“Aunt Mary!” Marcus said and ran to give me a hug.
“Hi Marcus. You sure are cute in those pajamas.” He wore cowboy print short pajamas and his red cowboy hat. All that was missing were the red boots.
“I want a gun!” he informed me. “Cowboys have to have guns!”
“Maybe someday you’ll get one,” I told him. He ran to hug Daniel next.
“Hey, Cowboy,” Daniel said.
“How is Carolyn and Bobby?” I asked Beryl.
“They’re both at sleepovers. Would you like some coffee?” she asked.
“I’d love some.”
We followed her into the kitchen and Daniel sat down at the table.
“What brings you fine folk out on a Friday night?” Robert asked, sitting across the table from Daniel.
“Mary got it in her head that we needed to get out, and so, here we are. The most exciting place in Salyers tonight,” Daniel said.
“The sad thing is, you’re probably right,” Robert agreed.
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