by Vicki Hinze
“These women you watch. They’re acting of their own free will?”
“Yes.” He lied. Some of them were, but others… he couldn’t be so sure. And one, he doubted very seriously was there of her own volition. She’d been drugged to the rafters the first time he’d seen her. Not so much in the times since, but…
“Okay, then.” Sylvia paced a few steps between the rows of desks. “Since they’re acting of their own free will, I’m going to let you buy my cooperative assistance. You give me a reasonable sum of money for my silence and you get to keep your job. And your occasional dates with Heidi Udall, too.” She stopped suddenly and glared at him. “But if I ever hear even one rumor you’ve done anything with a kid, I’m going straight to McCabe and reporting you for porn. That’s the best you’re getting from me. Take it or leave it.”
A chance. She was giving him a chance to keep his life. “How much?”
She named a sum and they haggled but she had him by the short hairs, no denying it, so he settled. He couldn’t do it, however, without a threat. “All right. All right, Sylvia,” he told her. “I’ll do what you want, but you better remember one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You ever tell anyone, and I mean anyone, and you’re going to regret it. I swear it.”
“What an amateur.” Her lackluster reaction fell far short of his expectations. She wasn’t frightened, she smiled. “You need a better argument, rookie. I’ve been threatened by the best. They always give in before I give up.” She stepped closer and leaned in. “Threaten me again, and the days of my silence are over. Oh, did I mention I’ve got proof? Well, I do. Not at my house, of course, so don’t think about breaking in and retrieving it. I’ve got it stored safely elsewhere. You behave, it stays tucked away.” She rolled her gaze toward the clouds. “But if anything happens to me… You won’t like it. It’ll trigger a dead man’s switch.”
“A dead man’s switch?” His mouth turned dust-dry. “You seriously expect me to believe that?”
“I seriously don’t care what you believe, pervert. A triggered switch means I’ll be dead,” she reminded him. “But you’ll be alive and right here, and everyone on the planet will see exactly who you are and what you’ve been up to, so even if I lose, I win. You, on the other hand, lose everything.” She shot him a warning glare. “Remember that, and don’t threaten me again ever. It annoys me.” She dipped her chin, shot him a look that could melt ice. “And don’t forget what I said about the kids.”
Without another word, Sylvia left his classroom and softly closed the door.
Standing in the faculty restroom, Wade’s stomach pitched and rolled. At the sink, he slapped at the spigot, splashed cold water on his face and rubbed briskly, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Not only had Sylvia known his dirty secret, she had proof of it stored in some unknown cloud. Worse, since her death, he’d feared her dead man’s switch had triggered and every second of every day would be the second his darkest shame would be exposed. The proof would appear everywhere, revealed for all to see. Everyone would know. Perkins. The council. His neighbors. Heidi. The kids…
What if Sylvia’s switch had already been triggered? What if the proof had gone straight to Dr. Perkins?
Sylvia might have done that. She was concerned about protecting the kids from him. He was into porn, not kids. Addicted, not perverted. He ripped off a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser and swiped at his face.
He vomited twice, rinsed his mouth and, still in a cold sweat, he staggered back to his classroom. Dr. Perkins had been concerned. If she knew anything, she never would have let him return to class. But if Sylvia had done what she threatened, soon everyone would know. People wouldn’t understand. They’d look at him and see a disgusting pervert teaching their kids. He’d lose his job, his house, his life. And there was nothing he could do about it but wait and watch it happen. Dr. Perkins wanted to see him.
Right after classes…
Chapter Eight
Dana girded her proverbial loins and then reached behind her office desk for her tote. Last night, the nightmares of Phoenix had returned with a vengeance and she had given into the urge, pulled the photo collage of the four students she had lost from her dresser drawer, and studied their sweet faces. Cara, Misty, Sara and Joshua. Clutching the frame to her chest, she had wept and wept until she cried herself back to sleep.
This morning, she had promised them yet again that she would protect the students entrusted to her care. First and foremost and always. She’d cried again, showered and dressed in a gold silk blouse and black skirt and then had come to work, ready to do whatever she had to do to keep that promise.
Her stomach still rumbled its discontent. She pulled out the photo and studied their familiar faces, their innocent smiles. Acid burned in her stomach. She set the photo on her desk then reached for the roll of antacids in her top desk drawer. Chewed one, then another. “Get it together, Dana,” she whispered to herself. “Do what you have to do.”
The students under her protection included Vinn. He needed her at the top of her game as much as the angels in Phoenix had needed her back then. She had failed them. She would not fail her students again.
She would not fail Vinn.
Straightening in her seat, she pushed the intercom button to speak to her assistant, Pamela Clark, the formal and dedicated thirty-year-old woman she’d hired this school year to replace one more lax at following her instructions. Pam might be a little zealous, but she carried out Dana’s requests with military precision, kept meticulous notes on everyone and everything, and she was harder on herself than Dana would ever be on her. Pam knew her job, her primary responsibilities and the thousand unspoken expectations placed on her. Not once had she fallen short.
“Pam?”
“Yes, Dr. Perkins.”
“Please pull Kristina Sharapova from class and have her come to my office.”
“Right away.”
The antacid kicked in and the burn in Dana’s stomach eased. Grateful for it, she glanced at the photo of Cara, Misty, Sara and Joshua. “No matter what it takes, I won’t fail again,” she promised, then tucked the photo back into her tote bag.
Minutes later, Pam appeared at the office door. “Kristina is here, Dr. Perkins.”
“Show her in, please.”
Kristina stepped into Dana’s office, looking scared and uncomfortable. “Am I in trouble, Dr. Perkins?” She lowered her book bag to the floor and swiped her hair back behind her ear. “I’m sorry I shouted in assembly. I was nervous.”
“You’re fine, Kristina.” Dana removed her reading glasses and motioned to a seat across from her desk. “Sit down, please.”
Kristina lowered herself onto the chair and sat perched forward like a bird ready for flight. Her jaw trembled.
“It really is okay.” Dana smiled. “You don’t need to be worried.”
She dragged her teeth over her lower lip. “I’ve never been summoned to the principal’s office. At home, the only kids who get summoned are the ones in trouble.”
“That’s not how it works at Shutter Lake.” Dana smiled again. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
She nodded.
“And I wonder if you might help me with something, Kristina.”
The thought that she might be able to help Dana clearly stunned her. “Me?”
Dana bobbed her head. “At assembly, you said Vinn didn’t kill Sylvia.”
She plucked at her slacks, seeking comfort in the feel of the fabric. “Yes.”
“You seemed sure of it,” Dana said.
“I am sure of it.” Kristina’s voice gained strength.
“Even though he says he did do it.” Dana avoided the murder word, or the kill one.
Again, she nodded.
“Why would he do that—say he did it, if he hadn’t done it?” Dana let Kristina see her worry. “I can’t figure that out.”
Frustration and confusion riddled Kristina’s face. She let her
gaze wander to the ceiling, obviously seeing something far beyond it in her mind. “I don’t know. I’ve tried and tried to figure it out, but I just can’t.”
Dana sat back. “It doesn’t make sense to me. I know he and Sylvia were friends. She helped him with his school project. Actually, it was about her and Sparkle. How she created the business.”
“I remember. She was so successful. Vinn did a good job on that project, and she did help him with it.” Kristina agreed. “But then they stopped being friends.”
“They did?” Dana let out a little mumble. “I didn’t realize that.”
Kristina nodded, clearly bothered by that situation.
When she didn’t continue, Dana nudged her. “Why? After working on the project together, I thought they’d keep on being friends.”
“I don’t know.” Kristina rubbed her slacks harder, absently. “Something happened and he didn’t trust her anymore. He told me that. He said he’d been stupid to ever trust her.”
“It must have been serious for Vinn to turn against her like that.” Dana parked her elbow on her desk, cupped her chin. “I wonder what Sylvia did to make him so angry with her?”
“He wouldn’t say. I asked a couple times, until he told me not to anymore. We talked about almost everything. But not about that.” Kristina grunted her irritation at being shut out. “I know he was really ticked off. Though…”
“Though what?” Dana pushed.
Kristina looked back at Dana. “He wasn’t really angry at her. Not like he wanted to hurt her or anything like that. He just didn’t trust her anymore.” Kristina shrugged. “She tried to talk to him a couple of times. I was there. But before she could get anywhere close to him, he yelled at her to go away and leave him alone.”
“Vinn yelled at Sylvia?” Dana let out a grunt of her own. “Now that’s odd. I’ve never known him to be rude to anyone.”
Kristina lowered her voice, checked the door and, seeing it remained closed, she glanced back at Dana. “It was weird, Dr. Perkins. I told him so, too.”
“What did he say?”
“That she deserved worse.” Kristina blinked hard, as if the exchange had caused her to fear he had given her worse. No doubt that worry had created some sleepless nights. “I don’t know what she did, but whatever it was, it totally pis—er, ticked-off Vinn. He didn’t want anything to do with her.”
“Yet you don’t think he killed her.”
“I know he didn’t.”
There it was again. That total certainty. “How do you know, Kristina?”
Her face blanked. Finally, she said, “I can’t tell you. But I do know.”
Dana softened her voice. “It’s difficult to accept that people we care about can be good people and yet do bad things.”
“It’s not like that,” she cut in. “I—I just know, okay? I just know.”
“Okay.” Dana paused for effect. “Kristina, I’m going to trust you.” When she nodded, Dana went on. “I don’t believe Vinn killed Sylvia either. But believing it, isn’t enough. To get him out of this mess, we need to prove he’s innocent.”
“How do we prove it?” Kristina seemed willing to help but at a loss on how to do it.
Dana sat back, clasped her hands in her lap. “You can start with telling me how you know he didn’t do it.”
“I told you, I can’t.”
The desperation in her tone alerted Dana, and she asked the question she should have asked the first time. “You can’t, or you won’t?”
“What’s the difference, Dr. Perkins?” Kristina looked ready to bolt. “Most likely, I know the same way you do. We know Vinn.”
Whatever she knew she wasn’t ready to share, and pushing her any harder would only alienate her into shutting down. “Well, you think about it,” Dana pulled back, “and if you can somehow help me prove he didn’t do this, I’d appreciate your help.”
She nodded and grabbed her book bag. “If Vinn was mad enough to kill Sylvia Cole, he would have done it when he first got mad at her—don’t you think?”
Crime of passion? “Maybe. But sometimes anger builds over time and it finally gets to people.”
“I’ve never seen him as mad as he was at her at first. After that, when she’d try to talk to him, he’d gripe for her go away, but then once she left, he was okay. I mean, he let it go, you know?”
“That doesn’t sound like anger building up to me.”
The wrinkle between Kristina’s brows faded. “It doesn’t to me, either.”
Dana smiled. “That’s good news, then. Now if you think of anything else…”
“I’ll let you know, Dr. Perkins.” She slung her book bag over her shoulder and left the office fast.
Kristina Sharapova was a good friend to Vinn—as good a friend as he’d been to her, helping her settle in here. And she knew more than she was telling Dana.
Maybe, just maybe, Kristina would think about it all and share that missing information Dana needed to help Vinn. To protect him.
Starting with protecting him from himself.
Chapter Nine
After the talk with Kristina, Dana spoke with four different parents concerned about their children’s safety. She thought of Gracie’s cat, Patience, and considered borrowing it for the rest of the morning. If Dana weren’t allergic, she might have asked, but a reaction and a delicate stomach that had steadily grown more fragile with each successive phone call nixed the idea.
She plucked her red-framed reading glasses from her desk and put them on then turned to her computer. A lot of people in Shutter Lake seemed to know about Sylvia’s extended vacation, but the only one who seemed unnerved by her plans to visit Venezuela was Wade Travis. Why?
Dana keyed in an Internet search request on Venezuela at DuckDuckGo.com, then scanned the results. “International Court looking into allegations of excessive force and other abuses.” She sighed. “Government’s a wreck.” Looking on, she paused on the next item of interest. “U.S. travel restrictions.” Why would Sylvia go there now when the State Department had issued an alert and travel was restricted? People were starving. Grocery store shelves were empty. “Not your typical vacation paradise at the moment.” Dana kept looking. Her gaze slowed on the next article. “A source for commercial sexual exploitation and forced labor?”
Dana read the article, then sat back in her seat, her fingers pressed to her lips. “Number five in human trafficking. Number five?”
How in the world could there be a connection? Back when Dana had travelled to Venezuela, which was nearly a decade ago now, a lot of people who lived in the interior would come to the tourist attraction areas looking for work. Of course, a lot could have changed in that period of time. Why would Sylvia want to go there right now?
Back on the search page, Dana located an article that caught her eye and interest but it didn’t answer her question. “U.S. State Department’s Office to monitor and combat trafficking in persons placed the country in ‘Tier 3’ in 2017.”
None of this was the Venezuela she had known. Dana’s stomach flipped. Things had changed all right. They’d gotten worse. She leaned back in her seat and absorbed all she had read. Why would Sylvia go there at all, much less now? Why would she plan an extended stay? With so much turmoil throughout the country and those travel restrictions…
It didn’t make sense. Sylvia wasn’t stupid, and she wasn’t flighty. Independent, yes, but clear-headed or she never would have built a successful business. She had been raised by Zion and Yolanda Cole, wealthy pharmaceutical tycoons, and she was privileged. But she never had been indulged—her choice, not Zion and Yolanda’s. They would have given her anything. Sylvia wouldn’t take it. She’d made her way on her own. Maybe to prove to them or to herself that she could. Regardless of her reasons, she had made her own way. That required good judgment and sense. A lifelong habit of exercising both. So why abandon those habits now, over this?
Dana had no answers, but she did have questions. Considering Wade Travis’s reac
tion to Dana’s questions about Sylvia and Venezuela in the gym, maybe he could shed some light on the subject. If he would. Oh, to be that deeply affected by her death, he could tell her plenty. Dana had sensed that clearly. He’d been acting strange since word of Sylvia’s death had come out, and he’d reacted to Dana’s questions in straight-up, self-defense mode. Far too defensive to not know something significant.
Who else might have some insights?
Gazing out through her office window, Dana let her mind wander through possibilities. Too vague. She homed in on a specific. What had she done before travelling to a foreign country? She tapped her fingertips against the edge of her desk. “Passport.” Sylvia would have to update her passport. She hadn’t taken a vacation since she’d opened Sparkle. Of course, it would need updating, which meant she’d need to see Ana. Anyone needing medical records checked for matters such as this had to visit Dr. Perez.
Feeling the burn in her stomach, Dana popped another antacid tablet into her mouth just as Pam stuck her head in the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Perkins. Dr. Perez wants you to drop by the medical clinic to get your labs done.” Pam frowned. “She called herself, so I think this is your last warning.”
Dana had been due for her annual physical—a contractual requirement with the council—for three months, and she had rescheduled a couple of times. But if Ana was calling herself, it meant the reprieve was over. Since it was a good opportunity to ask her about Sylvia, Dana seized it. “Well, I guess I’d better go do that right now, then.”
Pam cast her a suspicious look. “Are you sick?”
“You know the labs are for the routine physical.”
“Finally, you’re going to do it.” Relief swept across Pam’s face. “Good. They’ve been nagging me to nag you for two months.”
“Three.”
“I was being generous.” Pam wiggled a finger in Dana’s direction. “Best not let the health-nut Nazi see you downing antacid then.”
