by Linda Keir
As they approached the auditorium, Andi was surprised to see two Lake County Sheriff’s Office deputies, in full uniform and with guns on their hips, flanking the steps.
“What’s up with the cops?” asked Owen, flushed and panting as he rejoined them.
She arched an eyebrow at Ian.
“To keep reporters out,” he deduced instantly. “They don’t want news crews crashing an academic event. This is, after all, a private institution.”
“Still, it’s kind of ironic, don’t you think?” asked Whitney. “Keeping reporters from reporting what someone else reported?”
She’s a sharp one, in some ways even keener than Cassidy, thought Andi with a hollow feeling in her stomach. Hopefully, she’d make it through Glenlake without any writing-seminar drama.
“This is for students and their families,” she said simply.
They were early, so they waited on the steps while Owen burned off some more energy, doing thirteen-year-old parkour between railings, pillars, and stone benches. It was a crisp evening, but spring was definitely on its way.
Katharine Henry, Andi’s former dorm mother, made her way toward them, walking alongside Sharon Lysander. Mrs. Lysander had parlayed an administrative assistant job, and plenty of continuing-education credits, into assistant headmastership. Ian was probably right, though, when he said that was as far as she was likely to rise. Partly because she was a loyal grinder, not a rock star.
And because she was a woman in her fifties?
Mrs. Henry beelined for Whitney. “Congratulations, young woman! Your mother told me the good news, and I couldn’t be more excited to have another Copeland coming here next year.”
Whitney beamed.
“Will you be following in your mother’s footsteps?” she asked, glancing at Andi, who kept a smile frozen in place even as she recoiled inwardly at the thought.
“She’s more of a STEM girl,” parried Ian. “But she’s a big reader, and I know she’ll do well in her English classes.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Mrs. Henry said, waving at Owen, who waved back but may or may not have known who he was waving to.
“Congratulations from me, too,” added Sharon. “And welcome to Glenlake.”
“Thank you!” chirped Whitney.
“And congratulations on Cassidy, too,” Sharon told Ian and Andi. “Her stock will only go up after tonight.”
The remark was puzzling, but not wanting to seem as though she wasn’t in the loop, Andi let it slide. She’d find out soon enough.
They chatted for a few minutes as faculty and students continued to arrive, then went inside when Whitney insisted all the good seats would be taken.
“Quite a crowd,” murmured Ian as the hall continued to fill until the main level and balcony were full and late-arriving students and their parents were forced to stand at the back. Wayne Kelly and his class were seated to one side of the stage, chattering excitedly, and Andi had to wave for a couple of minutes straight before Cassidy picked them out in the crowd and waved back.
Finally, it was time to begin. Headmaster Scanlon spoke first, briefly thanking everyone for coming and citing the long history of the writer-in-residence program at Glenlake—without any acknowledgment of the irony involved. He then introduced Mrs. Henry, who introduced Wayne Kelly by reading seemingly his entire curriculum vitae, as if to reassure the audience that the man they were about to hear from was in fact an esteemed member of his profession.
“You’ve read a lot about this story in national news,” she summed up, “and this hasn’t always been an easy story for Glenlakers to take in. But there’s still more news to be made—and you’ll hear it first!”
Murmurs rippled around the auditorium as Wayne Kelly took the stage and briefly summarized the class project. He called roll, and the students took turns standing up, grinning sheepishly and waving to their parents. The team leaders—Hannah, Tate, Rowan, Felicia, and Cassidy—then stood in a semicircle behind the podium and launched into a PowerPoint, each of them taking turns reading from a script that summarized the known facts, the journalistic methods they’d employed, and what they had been able to deduce. Andi was grateful Georgina didn’t have a student in the class, as she wouldn’t have wanted to watch her squirm when Tate recited a couple of the choicest quotes from her interview, including the “hottie” one.
Or maybe she would have wanted to watch that.
The thought that Dallas had tried to kiss Georgina overshadowed Andi’s thoughts of what a cute, smart boy Tate seemed to be, and how much he reminded her of a young Ian.
The twins were surprisingly rapt, given the auditorium setting, especially when their big sister was talking. Owen leaned so far forward during the crime-scene photos he was practically breathing down the neck of the woman in front of him.
But so far, so familiar. Nothing they’d reported deviated in any way from what she and Ian already knew—and it most definitely did not include what they’d learned about Curtis Royal’s checkered employment history or any mention of the bracelet that had dredged up so many secrets that would otherwise have remained at the bottom of Lake Loomis. Even as Cassidy summed up the most recent developments, ruling out one suspect after another, Andi couldn’t for the life of her see where BIG NEWS was going to show up.
Until Cassidy paused nervously, cleared her throat, and then took a drink of water from a bottle under the podium. With a glance at Wayne Kelly for reassurance—Andi reading both of their expressions carefully but not finding anything to worry about, she thought—Cassidy turned the page.
“We had prepared this presentation believing our summary would refer to the imminent trial of Curtis Royal, and the fact that the true end to this story would not be known until he was found guilty or innocent in a court of law. However, late yesterday, we learned of a new twist to the tale. Based in part on the work of this class, and especially on the reporting of award-winning journalist Wayne Kelly, the Lake County Sheriff’s Office reviewed new evidence and reopened their investigation. They, in turn, found new evidence of their own, which they then presented to the Lake County prosecutor. He then”—Cassidy looked up from the podium and, despite the distance, made eye contact with Andi—“withdrew the murder charge. Curtis Royal was released from the Lake County Jail this morning.”
The noise in the auditorium didn’t quite qualify as an uproar, but there was a collective gasp, followed by excited conversation.
Andi grasped Ian’s arm tightly. “What is going on?”
He didn’t answer, grimly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The twins, of course, were loving it.
Wayne Kelly had to rise from his seat and take the mic to quiet everyone down. Then, with what seemed like deference to Cassidy, he took over.
“New evidence received by the sheriff’s department convinced them that Dallas Walker, for reasons unknown to us, took his own life or died accidentally. What was thought to be a blow to the back of the head was in fact an injury sustained when his car went over the cliff into Lake Loomis.”
All her initial distress over Dallas’s death came rushing back like a wave of nauseating heat.
Kelly had to raise his voice to continue. “While this is not quite the exoneration of an innocently convicted criminal, I do believe this is a significant achievement for the students of Glenlake, as this could not have happened without them. You should all be very proud of your sons and daughters, but one student in particular deserves special mention, because it was her encouragement that led me to dig deeper, as I always tell my students to do. That student is Cassidy Copeland.”
Cassidy turned beet red but smiled as applause erupted. Mrs. Henry and Sharon Lysander stood up, prompting several other knots of audience members to do likewise. Andi felt rooted to her chair but followed suit when she felt Ian’s gentle tug on her arm.
She stood and applauded, numb with shock.
“Cassidy, please introduce our next speaker,” said Wayne Kelly, stepping a
side again.
Their daughter grinned from ear to ear as she approached the mic. “I think it’s only fitting that we hear from Curtis Royal himself!”
Andi collapsed into her seat as Roy shambled out of the wings in an ill-fitting suit and tie he’d no doubt purchased for his court appearances, the snake tattoo just visible above the bright white collar of his shirt. He was stooped and half the size she remembered, but just as ugly and intimidating.
He dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief, pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, and stared down at the podium, trying not to look at the crowd.
Andi felt a momentary pang of sympathy for Roy, who was probably more comfortable in a jail cell than facing a full auditorium.
“I had faith in higher powers,” he began in a monotone, leaning too close to the microphone. “I trusted that I wouldn’t be made to rot and die in prison. But sometimes I started to question whether anyone was listening. And then an angel appeared before me. She listened to my story. She believed in me. God moved in her, and now I am free.”
Roy turned toward Cassidy, who stood beside Mr. Kelly, Mrs. Henry, and Sharon Lysander near the curtains at the edge of the stage. His voice cracked as he finally raised his eyes, squinting at the lights. “Thank you, Cassidy. Thank you, Mr. Kelly. Thank you, Glenlake Academy. And thank you all.”
As the crowd cheered, Cassidy and the staff walked toward the podium. Andi recoiled as Roy reached out and enveloped their daughter in a hug.
“We should be proud,” Ian whispered, clapping. “Right?”
Andi had too many questions to give him an answer.
At the lobby reception afterward, Cassidy was quickly surrounded by parents whose compliments and questions seemed like thinly veiled attempts to determine why she had outperformed their own children, inquiring which colleges agreed with that assessment. Rather than fight her way through and claim ownership, Andi decided to make her way to Mr. Kelly first.
Ian was in lockstep with her.
“Your daughter is really something,” Kelly said, also watching the crowd swell around her. “I’m so proud of her.”
Faintly, Andi heard Cassidy repeat the word hunch and rattle off her list of schools.
“So are we,” Ian said.
“So it was suicide all along?” Andi asked.
Ian put a welcome arm around her.
“Or an accident,” Kelly said. “There’s no ruling out drugs or alcohol. I’m told Dallas definitely abused both.”
“And the injury to the back of his skull was from impact?”
“Apparently, the seat belt wasn’t buckled, and it’s impossible to tell which position his body was in when the car hit the water. His head could have struck the roof of the car, the steering wheel, or even the top of the seat.”
“No headrests on those old cars,” Ian said, “and a lot of hard surfaces.”
“Exactly,” Kelly said.
As the conversation veered into car talk, Andi scanned the room and spotted Roy, alone at the dessert table, munching on a cookie.
Staring directly at her.
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said.
Fighting the inclination to turn away, she walked right over to him.
“You look almost the same,” he said. “Maybe even better.”
Her skin crawled, just as it had the first time she’d met him at Kyle’s Kabin, celebrating Dallas’s birthday. A night she wished she could forget. She thought about his decrepit home and decided she’d feel just as nervous there now as she had that night.
“I’ll admit, I never thought I’d see you again,” she said.
“Then again, I never had much of an eye for the young ones,” he said, almost as if she hadn’t spoken.
“I’d say that’s a good thing, since you work at a school.”
“They certainly don’t look kindly at that kind of thing around here.”
She watched as a group of kids swooped in and took all the brownies from a nearby tray.
“I never dreamed your kid would be the one to champion my cause,” Roy went on. “Isn’t that something? I mean, considering . . .”
Andi lowered her voice. “My husband, and now Cassidy, are aware of my connection to Dallas. But no else knows anything about it.”
“Well, that’s interesting.” Roy laughed.
“And I’d really like to keep it that way.”
“Never said a word,” he said. “And Lord knows, your secret is safe with me now.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” he said, grabbing a handful of cookies, wrapping them in a napkin, and stuffing them into his jacket pocket. “I believe I’m out of here.”
“Roy,” she said, “how do you think Dallas actually died?”
His gaze lingered on hers. “Paying for his sins,” he said, and started for the door.
By the time Andi made her way back to Ian and Wayne Kelly, he’d already disappeared.
Chapter Sixty-Two
“If he did commit suicide . . . ,” Andi kept repeating, unable to finish the sentence in a way that made sense to either of them. When she wasn’t saying it, Ian could tell she was thinking it, unable to complete the thought.
“It just doesn’t add up,” he told her, more than once.
Which, despite repeated efforts, he couldn’t convince Andi to believe. No matter what he said, the guilt she felt over the possibility that Dallas had died by his own hand, whether intentionally or inadvertently, was once again eating away at her.
They both put their best faces forward on their six-day visit to Playa del Carmen, slathering on sunscreen and trooping down to the beach or out to one of the resort’s enormous pools. But his own enjoyment, and Andi’s, too, was merely a display for the kids.
“It all comes down to Roy’s employment at Glenlake,” said Ian. “The timing was no accident. Someone was protecting him.”
To prove to her he was onto something, he called Gerald Matheson, heedless of the charges to his international roaming plan.
“I was wondering when I’d hear from you,” said the former assistant headmaster, answering on the second ring. Apparently, this time Ian had not interrupted him during a workout—his voice sounded calm.
“Because?”
“Because it’s all anyone can talk about! Don’t get me wrong, we’ll all be glad to put this year behind us. But isn’t it amazing? Your daughter and her teacher have lifted the school’s reputation back up where it belongs.”
“I suppose,” Ian said.
“You don’t sound happy,” said Matheson.
“It’s taking me a while to get used to the idea of Roy’s innocence,” said Ian, pacing down a deserted corridor between the hotel’s courtyard and the service entrance.
“I don’t blame you for that. Between you and me, he looks like the poster boy for America’s Most Wanted.”
“I mean, it’s a mystery to me why Glenlake would hire a person like that in the first place.”
Now it was Matheson’s turn to be silent.
“I spoke to Ted Orzibal, the grounds supervisor,” Ian said. “He told me Roy was the worst employee they’d ever had. I saw his file, and there was complaint after complaint about Roy’s behavior, but those complaints never went anywhere. I saw a note you wrote saying you were going to deal with him, but nothing ever happened.”
“You’re making me nervous, Ian.”
“Why is that?” he asked, moving out of the way as a deep rumble heralded the passage of a cart piled high with garbage bags. He nodded at the man pushing it.
Matheson sighed so hard that Ian’s earpiece crackled with static. “It was Darrow. Darrow told me to hire him and keep him on the payroll. To this day, I have no idea why.”
Ian didn’t believe that. But he didn’t challenge it, thinking Matheson might be more helpful if he thought he was successful in passing the buck.
“But then why wasn’t Roy fired after Darrow died?”
“I don’t know. Maybe by th
en Roy had become a more reliable employee. Anyway, I’d forgotten all about it.”
He didn’t believe that, either.
“And Roy will be going back to work?” Ian asked, knowing Scanlon had told him otherwise.
“No one wants him to, but the man’s been exonerated. He could sue us if we let him go. After a year like this, maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll retire.”
“In the meantime, he stays on the payroll, like always?”
“I don’t see how we have a choice.”
When they dropped Cassidy off after spring break, Andi initially objected to Ian’s plan to spend an extra day at Glenlake before heading home. A day in which Whitney and Owen could shadow current freshmen and get a sense of what it would be like when they made their big transition in the fall. A day in which he and Andi could do some digging.
Sleeping dogs, she’d said, mostly because she didn’t want to dig anymore. Dallas was dead. And even though it wasn’t her fault he’d killed himself or drunk so much he decided to drive his car over the cliff because of her, his pregnant seventeen-year-old student, she just wanted to stop thinking about all of it.
And then Cassidy overheard them discussing a shadow day for her siblings and jumped on the bandwagon.
The next thing Andi knew, it was four against one, and they were back on campus at Glenlake.
Cassidy hugged everyone goodbye and disappeared into a group of friends, all of them acting like they’d been kept apart for months. Ian split off to get to the bottom of things, arranging to meet Andi later in the morning. Despite feeling skeptical of his investigative zeal, as she signed Whitney and Owen in, it was impossible to deny their excitement, or the value of having them spend a day with ninth-grade chaperones who would show them around their new home away from home.
Glenlake, which had once felt that way to her.
