Toni Donovan Mysteries- Books 1-3

by Helen Gray

  Under the Game Room heading was a paragraph stating that this was a place for southeast Missouri students to hang out. It had a typo in it.

  At loose ends, Toni began opening the games one by one, not sure why she was wasting time like this. When she had checked them all out, she started to close the browser. Then she noticed a small graphic in the lower left corner that looked like a logo or trademark. On closer examination she saw that the picture was a simple outline of a door. She moved the computer mouse over it and was surprised when the pointer indicated the icon was a clickable graphic. She clicked on it.

  What appeared on the screen was an online gambling setup for area sports. Toni recognized the names of area schools. Too excited to fully comprehend the details, she scanned through the contents. It followed the design of a professional online gambling site, but the writing, including a couple of misspelled words, made her think an amateur had designed and posted it.

  Toni sat frozen, considering the implications. Then, concentrating in an effort to remember what she had learned in her high school’s professional development workshops, she clicked on the View menu and selected Source Code. She remembered being shown how meta tags looked and that they contained keywords meant to attract search engines to them. She saw nothing related to gambling.

  “I think that could mean this site was not designed to be found by search engines,” she muttered to herself. “Which means that anyone going to it has to know exactly what he or she is looking for—which means they only know about it through personal contact.” That explained the business card. Someone was distributing them. Just how big an operation was this?

  Toni closed the browser and grabbed the card. She hurried back to her bedroom, grabbed her purse, and fished out her cell phone. “I’m going back out for a while,” she called to her mother-in-law on the way out the door, dialing Quint.

  “I just wanted to see if you’re home,” she said when her brother answered.

  “I’m here.”

  “I’m on my way over. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She disconnected and got in the van.

  She found Quint sitting in a lawn chair by his apartment door, clad in jeans and a black tee shirt. He stared at her as she approached, not smiling. “What’s up, Quizzy?”

  “Let’s go inside and I’ll show you. Is your computer on?”

  “No.” He looked puzzled, but he didn’t ask questions.

  While his computer booted, Toni told him about her latest encounter with the boys at Ozark.

  Quint’s eyes rolled as she explained how she had approached them. But by the time she got to the point of Dean’s comments, skepticism had turned to sober attention.

  “Here,” she said, handing him the card. “Go to this web site.”

  Quint sat in front of the computer and typed in the address. When the game site came up, he frowned, unimpressed

  “They really are just games.” Toni move closer to see the screen over his shoulder.

  He clicked on one, and then another, just to see for himself.

  Toni placed a finger on the small graphic in the lower corner. “Click on that.”

  He did. When he saw what came up, he whistled and leaned forward. “This is no small thing. It looks like a sophisticated setup.”

  He scrolled down through the site, studying it. Then he turned to face Toni, his expression troubled. “I think we have a high school gambling ring right here under our noses. From the looks of this, it’s being run along the lines of an organized crime operation. I’ve heard about these rackets springing up in bedroom communities, but I had no idea there’s one here.”

  “Do you think there’s any possibility it’s connected to organized crime?”

  Quint’s mouth thinned. “I don’t know. I hope not. But I need to relay this to the detectives.”

  *

  As she drove back across town, Toni tried to think how to go about identifying Jesse Campbell’s killer. Facts and possibilities whirled in her head, but nothing fit together. All the things she had learned seemed important, but she wasn’t sure how to connect them.

  Knowledge. It occurred to her that she could never acquire too much knowledge. It was too late to go to the library, but the Internet was loaded with information.

  After supper with Barb and Dan Donovan, Toni explained to them that Quint had asked her to spend her final week of classes with him and thanked them for letting her stay with them so much that summer. She explained that she would move to his apartment when she returned from the weekend in Clearmount.

  The Donovans understood and didn’t blame Toni for seizing the opportunity to spend time with her brother now that his rotating shift of crazy hours had improved and he could host company better.

  After helping Barb clean up in the kitchen, Toni excused herself and went to her room. She took a shower and spent the evening searching out and reading about teenage—even middle school—gambling. It horrified her to read of the rising rate of compulsive gambling among teens and pre-teens. Cited as the fastest growing teen addiction, some researchers estimated a million of the approximately eight million compulsive gamblers in America to be teenagers. The problem was linked to risky behaviors like heavy drinking, carrying weapons, sexual activity and fighting.

  As she read, Toni’s anger escalated. It was bad enough that her boys were frightened for her, and that a friend had been mugged. But it was infuriating to learn that a coach had been getting teens hooked on gambling. It looked like he might have gotten what he deserved.

  But it was still murder. And no one should get away with that. It made shivers go up Toni’s spine to realize that her own boys, who would be in seventh and fifth grades that fall, were old enough to be aware of, or even involved in, this growing trend.

  Forcing herself to calm down, Toni suddenly needed to hear their voices. She logged off the computer, took her cell phone off the charger, and called them.

  “Hi, Mom,” Garrett’s voice answered after three rings. “We miss you, but we’re fine. Grandma and Grandpa aren’t tired of us yet. Anything else you want to know?”

  “Brat,” she accused with a laugh.

  “Billy Radford is having a birthday party next week, and I’m invited,” he went on. “I need to buy him a present.”

  “Does that mean you want me to shop for something?” She knew a hint when she heard it. Now she had to figure out what to get for a boy turning ten years old.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Mom. Here’s Gabe.”

  There was a pause, and then, “Hi, Mom,” from her older son.

  “How was your day?”

  “All right, I guess.”

  In front of her, the muted television was showing a commercial. Toni watched a heat advisory scrolling across the bottom of the screen, warning that temperatures were expected to be over a hundred degrees the next two days.

  “…so I need new ones before school starts.”

  Toni shook her head, having missed part of what he was saying. “New what?” she asked blankly.

  “Mom! Weren’t you listening?”

  “I’m sorry. I was distracted,” she apologized. “Would you mind repeating it for me?”

  “I said I need some new clothes and shoes before school starts,” he repeated in a long-suffering tone.

  Toni sighed. “Is asking for things the only reason you two talk to me?”

  “Yep.”

  “Smarty. Okay, we’ll try to get in some shopping this weekend.” She paused for a moment. “Are you hanging out with your buddies quite a bit?”

  “Some,” he said off-handedly.

  “I’m curious,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I know you and your pals go swimming and ride your bikes during the summer. But what do your classmates do for fun during the school term?”

  “Oh, they hang out and go to ballgames and other stuff at school.”

  “Do they play a lot of games at home?”

  “Sure. Everybody has video games and TV, things like that.”


  “What about card games or online games?”

  “All that,” he confirmed.

  How could she get him to tell her what she really wanted to know? “Do they ever play poker or anything like that?”

  There was silence for several moments. “Mom, you’re after something. What is it you want to know?”

  Count on Gabe to see through her. She sighed. “All right, I want to know if poker or other forms of gambling are going on with the kids there in Clearmount.”

  “Sure. It’s no big deal,” Gabe said. “They watch poker on television, and a lot of them play it after school. Some even bet on sports online.”

  “Do they play for money?”

  “Of course. That’s the fun of it, winning money. Most of the games are on Friday nights, but it’s getting more popular.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “It’s easy. During school you just walk along the halls and find out who’s playing where. Some of the kids play at lunch and in study halls. Of course, the teachers don’t realize they’re playing for money. They think they’re just killing time after their homework is done.”

  A picture of the students playing cards in the student union flashed across her mind. “Have you played in these games?” she asked carefully.

  “A couple of times. So I know how to play poker, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m not hooked on it or anything. I like basketball and baseball better.”

  Toni breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully her boys had enough common sense to avoid that kind of thing. “The sports are much healthier,” is all she said. They would have a serious discussion later, when it could be done face to face.

  “I gotta go, Mom. Your baby boy is messing with my stuff.”

  “Okay, run along. I’ll call again tomorrow night. Love you, kid.”

  “Love you, too. Bye.”

  Toni tried to call Kyle but got no answer. He was probably some place where he couldn’t get cell service.

  *

  Wednesday morning Toni headed for school with her brain still on overload. She had collected herself enough to pack a sandwich to gulp between lecture and lab. Her toe was feeling much better, so she forced thoughts of murder suspects and gambling from her mind and lectured from the front of the room. It went well.

  At eleven o’clock she gave the class a five minute break and downed her sandwich. Then, during the respiration lab, she made her way around to the table where Nicole was working and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Can you stay and chat with me for a couple of minutes after class?”

  Nicole glanced up. “I can do that.”

  Toni moved on, facilitating the work at each table. While everyone else gathered their personal items and left the room, Nicole remained in her seat. When the students were gone, Toni returned to Nicole’s table and took a seat facing her. The young woman looked tired.

  “Is there something wrong?” Nicole asked.

  “Oh, no,” Toni said. “I didn’t mean to alarm you. Your work is fine. If you do as well on the final as you have on everything so far, you’ll have an A.”

  Relief flashed across Nicole’s face. “Good. I’ve been working hard and loving the class. If nursing is this interesting, I know I’ll like it. But keeping up with a job and a kid has me looking forward to a break.”

  “Believe me, I understand,” Toni said. “I hope you don’t mind my bringing up your former coach’s murder again.”

  Nicole shrugged. “I don’t see how I can help, but ask anything you want.”

  “I’ve been doing some checking on Mr. Campbell’s background,” she began. “To the best of your knowledge, were his years at Branson successful?”

  “He was a good coach,” Nicole said without hesitation. “I think he had winning seasons every year he was there.”

  “What was his exact position with the district?”

  “He was head basketball coach for the ninth grade and Junior Varsity teams.”

  “Do you know how long he was there?” Toni knew from the resume that it was five years, but she wanted to hear Nicole’s confirmation. She was trying to gauge the accuracy of the girl’s memory.

  Nicole thought a moment. “He was new the year I was in eighth grade and was there until the year I graduated. So that would have been five years.”

  Toni didn’t know how to phrase the next question tactfully, so she asked outright. “Do you know for sure that he was fired?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure,” Nicole said, tipping her head in thought. “I was just a student and had no inside track, but one day when I was putting up a bulletin board in the hall outside the teachers’ work room, the door was open, and I overheard a couple of staff members talking about it. They didn’t know I could hear them. They were talking about him having resigned just as he was due for tenure. I didn’t even understand about tenure at the time.”

  Tenure was as near to job security as a teacher could get. In the schools of Toni’s personal knowledge, five years was the standard time a teacher had to work in the same district to gain that important protection from summary dismissal. Tenure was often criticized for allowing teachers to remain in the profession after becoming unproductive, shoddy, or incompetent. Schools were reluctant to grant it unless absolutely convinced that a teacher was a ‘keeper’.

  Toni also knew that teachers the districts didn’t want to retain were commonly given the opportunity to resign rather than have an involuntary termination on their record. It sounded as if that had been the case with Jesse Campbell.

  “What about the inappropriate relationship with a female student? Are you sure that really happened?”

  “I’m positive it happened,” Nicole said, her tone confident. “Sonya bragged about it.”

  “Do you have any idea how Jesse’s wife reacted when the story got out?”

  “I never heard any stories about her making a public spectacle of herself or anything like that,” Nicole said after a brief pause. “She had two young kids to consider. The youngest one was born not long before Coach lost his job. I heard she left him, but then went back to him. Sonya’s boyfriend wasn’t so forgiving, though. He dumped her.”

  “Were there ever any charges brought?”

  “No. Sonya said her parents found out and wanted to sue Jesse, but she wouldn’t cooperate. She said it was her first fling with an older man, and she wasn’t going to bring charges against him for something she had wanted. Besides, she was eighteen—at least by the time the story came out.”

  Toni wished she knew more about this girl. “Can you give me Sonya’s full name and tell me how to find her?”

  “Her name is Sonya Finch. The last I heard she was working at a nightclub here in Springfield, the Goldenrod.”

  “Do you know her parents?”

  “Their names are Wilma and Ed Finch, but I don’t know for sure where they live. So far as I know they’re still in Branson. I think they lived somewhere in the country outside of town. I remember Sonya complaining about having to ride the bus when her car was in the garage. She was mad because her parents wouldn’t drive her to school.”

  Toni noticed Nicole glance at her watch. “If you need to go to work, that’s fine. I appreciate your openness.”

  Nicole nodded and gathered her books. “I have a few minutes, but I need to stop by the campus book store. Just for the record, I think the coach was asking for trouble when he started cheating on his wife. But that doesn’t give anyone the right to kill him. I hope you find who did it. Good luck.”

  When Nicole was gone, Toni put the room in order. It was one-forty-five when she walked out into the heat. On her way to the parking lot, she dug her cell phone from her purse.

  “Hello from Springfield,” she said when her principal answered his office phone. “Don’t you have a secretary today?”

  “Hi, Toni,” Ken Douglas responded pleasantly. “Paula’s down in the main office getting some forms for me. What can I do for you?”

  “Do you k
now anyone personally at the Branson High School who would be willing to give you an overview of Jesse Campbell’s history there?”

  He chuckled. “Still sleuthing, huh? I don’t have any personal ties with anyone there, but I’ll call and see if I can get the principal or superintendent—whoever’s available—to talk to me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How’s it going?” he asked before she could end the call.

  Toni unlocked the van door and nearly strangled on the enclosed heat as she slid under the wheel. “I’m spinning my wheels,” she said, digging for her keys. “I’m finding that there are more people than just your friend who have reason to hate Campbell. Grant’s wife isn’t the only affair he had. I’ve been told that there was a relationship with a student while he was at Branson.”

  Ken’s sigh was audible. “That’s what you really want to know about, isn’t it? That kind of thing is an administrator’s worst nightmare. Okay, I understand. I’ll get back to you soon and let you know if I have any luck.”

  As she disconnected, Toni started the van and flipped on the air conditioning. She tossed the phone in her purse and lolled her head back against the seat, waiting for the air to cool enough that she could bear to close the door and handle the hot steering wheel. She debated what to do next. She wanted to go looking for Sonya Finch, but she also wanted to talk to someone at the Glendale school. By three o’clock the summer staff would likely be going home.

  When she was able to breathe, Toni closed the van door and drove off the parking lot. She worked her way to the southeast part of town, turned onto Ingram Mill Road, and soon pulled into the drive of Glendale High School.

  She got out and went to the main entrance. Inside, she saw a hallway display of scarlet red, white, and Columbia blue school banners with pictures of their falcon mascot on them.

  She imagined Jesse Campbell striding through these halls and interacting with the students. His death surely had been a major topic of discussion with the summer staff. She saw a small sign that said OFFICES and had an arrow pointing up the hall. She walked that way until she saw a door bearing a name plate that said PRINCIPAL on it. She opened it and stepped inside.