by Jade Astor
“I know he called and asked for you,” he said before Darian had a chance to speak. “I want to talk to you before you see him.”
Darian saw the question in Argo’s eyes. “I’m not sure why he asked for me. We weren’t particular friends or anything.”
Argo seemed unconvinced. “No? I admit I’d formed a different impression. One of my deputies saw you dropping him off at his car early on Monday morning.”
Darian blinked. Was this the reason for the change in Argo’s behavior toward him? Did he imagine that he and Aaron might be lovers? “That’s true. I gave him a lift.” He started to mention Aaron’s inability to drive on Sunday night, but stopped himself just in time. No need to contribute to his suspicions. A guilty conscience might be one reason for an alcohol binge. He forced that line of inquiry to the back of his mind for the moment. “Argo, you can’t seriously think Aaron had anything to do with Timothy’s death.”
“The way I see it, he had the oldest motive in the book.” Argo dropped into his desk chair and leaned back. “Sex. Blackmail. The whole thing started with illicit meetings by the pond. Timothy could have blown the whistle on Aaron to both his fiancée and Anderson Pryor, who obviously has the ear of both the headmistress and the trustees. Aaron would have been ruined, so he decided to stop the kid. He lured him down to their favorite rendezvous spot and put an end to their relationship for good.”
“Timothy was blackmailing Aaron? Do you have any proof of that?”
“I have enough evidence to hold him for the time being. As for proof, that isn’t up to me. That’s for the district attorney to gather. But if it exists, they’ll find it.”
“What made you arrest him in the first place? Because whatever his flaws, I find it hard to believe Aaron is the type to commit homicide—against one of his students, no less.”
“No one thinks people they know are capable of murder.”
“Was it something Anderson Pryor said? I saw you talking to him at the memorial.”
“I can’t go into any of that that. You know why not.”
“What about that piece of paper with the numbers on it? My writing didn’t match it. Did Aaron’s?” Argo didn’t respond, but his expression alone told Darian he’d guessed correctly. “Come on. That doesn’t prove anything. Anyone could have dropped it near the water. It’s a popular part of campus. People go down there all the time for perfectly innocent reasons.”
“And some not so innocent. Please, Darian. You’re putting me in a tough spot here.”
“Okay. You’re right. I’ll ask Aaron instead when I see him.”
They stared at each other uncomfortably. Finally Argo grunted.
“Okay, fine. You’re probably right. Macklin will tell you anyway. Turns out the number wasn’t a date, like we first thought. You were on the right track when you suggested a locker combination. Turns out it was a mailbox code. It matched the one at Macklin’s new condo—the one he was planning to move his new bride into right after the wedding.”
“A mailbox code?” Darian repeated incredulously.
“Yep. And it was Macklin’s penmanship as far as I can tell after looking at some of the corrected homework I bagged in Sebastian’s dorm room. I talked to the management people. Macklin was always forgetting the code, so he kept it written on a slip of paper. Obviously he stuffed it in his pants pocket at some point…and when the pants came off, the paper fell out.” Argo snapped his fingers. “Just like that, the best-laid plans get foiled.”
“Or it could have fallen out when he took out his cell phone. Or pulled out a tissue. Come on, Argo.”
“I’ll have an expert analyze it, of course. But at the moment, it’s the best clue we’ve got. I figure it was dropped right around the time Timothy died, based on the condition of the paper. Macklin probably didn’t notice it lying on the ground while he was shoving the kid into the water and holding his head underneath.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that score,” Darian said, careful to hide the fact that he was reeling. The images conjured by Argo’s words weren’t just repulsive. They rattled him to the core.
Argo stood, clearly having said all he intended to. “Come on. I’ll take you in to see him.”
His back was stiff and his gaze fixed straight ahead as he led Darian down a short hallway to two small cells fitted with sliding metal doors.
“I want to talk to you again after you see him. I’ll be back to let you out in fifteen minutes. If you need me before that, just shout.”
“Okay,” Darian said uncertainly.
“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to betray any confidences. You can speak to him freely. It’ll be just like you’re his lawyer, since he hasn’t asked for one.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Darian took the promise with a grain of salt. It wasn’t like Argo couldn’t bug the cell if he’d wanted to, after all. Wasn’t that routine these days?
Aaron was huddled on the narrow cot at the far end of the cell. His jacket and tie were gone and his shirt was rumpled. His hollow cheeks were smudged with tears. As soon as the door closed behind Darian, though, he smiled and lurched to his feet.
“You came! Thank you, thank you, Darian. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“Of course I did.” Since the cell had no chairs, Darian remained standing after Aaron shook his hand and then dropped down again. “Why wouldn’t I? You sounded desperate on the phone.”
“I am. Well, trying to stay calm, at least.” Aaron’s eyes flicked to the cell door. “Are we being watched?”
“The sheriff said we could speak privately. It’s possible he’s recording us, though.”
“Let him. I have nothing to hide at this point.”
With each passing moment, the day began to feel more and more like a crazy dream. “He also said you killed Timothy to hide it from your fiancée.”
Aaron shook his head. His expression turned smug. “That won’t hold water. The wedding is already off.”
“I guess that’s not surprising, considering—”
“No, no.” Aaron held up a hand to silence him. “I don’t mean because of this. My engagement ended over a month ago. I just didn’t tell anyone.”
“A month?”
“I called it off with her,” Aaron went on, studying the scuffed concrete floor. “I told her I wasn’t who she thought I was. I felt awful, but I couldn’t keep living a lie.”
Darian gaped. How had Aaron been able to stand all that good-natured teasing in the faculty lounge? And what about the women he had seen Aaron with in the park downtown? Then again, he hadn’t actually seen Aaron interacting with them. He’d just been standing nearby, watching. Darian had seen what he had expected to see and misinterpreted the entire scene.
Then the second part of Aaron’s admission registered.
“Wait. Are you saying that it’s true? That you and Timothy…?”
“Not the way you think. Look…my attraction to guys is something I never wanted to accept. Never acted on it, not even when I was in college. Never even dared to imagine what might happen. But repressing my feelings just made things worse.”
Darian nodded. “I get that. The more you deny yourself, the sharper the craving becomes. Like an addiction.” Thankfully, he’d never gone through a painful denial phase. But he’d known plenty of guys who had.
“Yes. That’s the way it was, exactly.” Aaron licked his lips and hung his hands between his knees. “I was curious, you know. Somehow Timothy figured it out. He came to me, Darian, I promise you. It wasn’t my idea. I didn’t mean for anything to happen.”
“I believe that. I know how Timothy operated. Still, you were the adult. You should have known better, Aaron.”
“He was eighteen,” Aaron snapped. “Also an adult.” Then he got control of himself. “Things didn’t…you know…go too far. I swear to you, Darian, it wasn’t what you’re imagining. We did kiss. That is, Timothy kissed me. Once. And only once.”
“By the pon
d?”
Aaron nodded miserably. “I ordered him to stop. Told him I didn’t like it.” He swallowed. “He knew I was lying. I knew it, too.”
“And Caryn…?”
“I had to end the engagement. She hates me now. Didn’t take it calmly. Her parents, either. They all despise me. When the cops interview them…well, they won’t have many good things to say about me, that’s for sure.”
“But you left her before Timothy died?”
Aaron nodded.
“That’s not an entirely bad thing, because it means hiding the truth from Caryn couldn’t have been your motive. As for the rest of it…well, it’s embarrassing, sure, but the worst that could happen is that you’d have to leave Birchwood. From what you said, you were planning to do that anyway. So Arg—er, the sheriff doesn’t have much of case. Just a little scrap of paper you could have dropped anytime.”
“Yeah, that. I don’t deny it was mine. And I have no idea when I dropped it, but it wasn’t when I was out there killing a student. My god.”
“Of course it wasn’t. And Argo can’t prove that either. Everyone at Birchwood walks by the pond all the time. It could even have blown in from the parking lot. So he really has nothing at all.”
Aaron didn’t look as relieved as Darian had expected. He winced. “The thing is, I wasn’t totally upfront about exactly what was bothering me. I told Caryn I’d been unfaithful to her. I didn’t tell her it was with another guy. I wanted to be honest. I just couldn’t make the words come out.”
“Ah.” Darian’s upbeat mood instantly deflated. “So someone could say you changed your mind and wanted her back, but you had to…ah…eradicate the evidence. I see.”
“I didn’t want her back, though,” Aaron insisted. “I mean, I care about her as a friend. But you know how it is.” His voice caught and his eyes filled with fresh tears. “That’s why I called you. I thought you’d understand.”
“I do understand. But right now you need a lawyer, Aaron, not relationship counseling. That can all come later. First we have to get you out of here.”
“You’re right.” Aaron shook his head, cleared this throat, and tugged at the front of his shirt as if it were too tight around the chest. “Can you help me get one? One who won’t judge me, I mean? And one who can work fast. This place sucks, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“I did notice. And I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks. I’ll try to be patient.”
“Looks like you’re holding up okay. Just try to stay calm a little longer.” Darian said. “So far, their case is about as solid as wet tissue paper. Any competent attorney should be able to get you out in no time. Leave that part to me.”
“Thanks.”
Aaron shifted on his cot, as though he were about to reach for Darian’s hand again, when a tap on the door stopped him. Argo opened it and peered at them with steely eyes.
“Time’s up.”
“Okay. Don’t worry, Aaron,” Darian repeated as Argo open the door. Moments later they were back in his office. This time Darian remained standing.
“So now you’ve heard the sordid details. Do you see why it looks like a good case? Teacher and student start canoodling. Student threatens to rat teacher out.” He tapped the desk. “Aaron kills Timothy to shut him up.”
“Sorry, but I disagree. Your theory’s full of holes. Aaron says he rejected Timothy’s advances. And he wasn’t planning to stay at Birchwood much longer, anyway. Getting fired wouldn’t have destroyed him. And like I said before, he could have dropped that slip of paper at any time.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion. And I didn’t expect him to confess. So it’s not a slam dunk by any means. But it’s a start. The evidence will come to us by and by.”
“Maybe. But you can’t know where it will point you until it does come. Isn’t that the point of investigating a crime? You don’t make the facts fit some scenario you’ve imagined. You wait and see where the facts lead.”
“Are you telling me how to do my job?” Argo’s nostrils flared, and he crossed his arms over his chest. Darian tried not to notice the way his muscles flexed under that crisp, silvery fabric.
“No. I’m trying to make sure you don’t focus on the wrong person because of some kind of…misinterpretation of what’s really going on.”
“Thanks for the suggestion. Can I make one of my own? Stick to analyzing poetry and let me worry about enforcing the law.”
“I don’t think the two things are so different. They’re both about making observations and connections. Sometimes we’re too quick to assume one theory and reject another. For example, why a person might be dropping a friend off near his car early in the morning.”
“You mean there’s some explanation that doesn’t involve the two of them spending the night together?”
“There could be. Maybe the one being dropped off just needed a friend’s support and spent the night on the other guy’s sofa. You see? Totally innocent.”
“Very few people are totally innocent in my world.” Argo paused, his facial muscles tensing and then partially relaxing. “But okay. I’ll grant that in the situation you describe, the alternative scenario also makes sense.”
“Good.” In spite of himself, Darian felt the hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth upward. “I’d hate for a misunderstanding to derail a promising inquiry before it even gets started.”
“Point taken. I guess when you get right down to it, I feel the same way.”
“I’m glad to hear that. More than you know.”
To Darian’s surprise, a blush crept halfway up Argo’s neck. Then it retreated again, as though he’d forced it back through sheer will.
“Fine. So with all that being said, there’s one more piece of the puzzle you should probably know about, just so you don’t think I’m persecuting your colleague because of some misguided—and, I see now, incorrect assumption on my part. I met with Anderson Pryor right in the office the moment he got into town with his high-priced lawyer—who’s only slightly less annoying than Sebastian Grant’s, by the way. Pryor told me that recently, he and his son started arguing over the phone. In an attempt to get the old man’s goat, Timothy bragged about a recent conquest of his. ‘Nailing a teacher’ was the way he put it. That suggests more than just a rebuffed advance, which is what Macklin claims.”
Darian frowned. “He could have been exaggerating, or even outright lying. Sounds like he would go to any lengths to tick off his father. No love lost there.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe he meant he’d steered Aaron into a compromising position he could leverage for grades or academic favors. Nailing has a few other connotations, after all.”
“And in this case, none of them involves carpentry. We need to keep that in mind.”
The situation did look bad for Aaron, no doubt about that. From one angle, Argo’s evidence did seem hazy, inconclusive, and open to serious questions. Tilt your head a few degrees in the other direction, and it all swam into a terrible focus. A district attorney—or a jury—might well be persuaded to do some tilting.
He struggled to come up with an alternative theory. The only one that dawned on him was almost too terrible to be plausible. Almost.
“Argo…what about Timothy’s father? Could he be involved somehow? I mean, hear me out. The guy has political ambitions and a troublesome son. He’d be much better off with Timothy out of the way. He might even bag him a few sympathy votes.”
Argo blinked in astonishment. “You think Timothy’s father killed him to enhance his odds in an election?”
“He wouldn’t have done it personally. But think about it. Rich guys like him know how to hire people to take care of their problems. You hear about these kinds of dirty dealings all the time. I’m not saying I believe it.”
Argo rubbed a patch of stubble on his jaw. “Wouldn’t have done his mother, the city councilwoman, much good either. And she’ll go along with whatever the old man wants. That’s o
bvious.”
“The way he probably sees it, having a gay son would be a greater liability than a dead one. And the suggestion that another gay man might have killed him could even provide a campaign talking point, pitched at a certain segment of voters all too eager to believe the worst about us.” Darian paused and sighed. “You’re right, though. I can’t imagine anyone going that far. It’s monstrous.”
“I deal with a lot of monsters in this job. You don’t even want to know.”
“Okay, let’s go back to the suicide theory for a moment. You said yourself that wasn’t completely off the table. I still think there might be some connection to the first drowning on campus—the one that happened twenty years ago. What if Timothy wanted to send some kind of message. Not just to his father. Maybe to the school as a whole. From what Everett says, he wasn’t always happy there. Given his academic difficulty, getting into a top college was going to be a struggle. Maybe he decided to pack it in once and for all. Since Aaron had rejected him, maybe he decided to take him down in the process. A frame job, set up by the victim himself.”
“Darian….”
“Okay, okay. No need to roll your eyes. I just wanted to point out some alternatives to Aaron committing murder right on the Birchwood campus.”
“Yeah.” Argo nodded slowly. “The case isn’t closed by a long shot. I’m still willing to consider other options.”
“That’s all I’m saying. Keep an open mind.”
“Deal—if you do the same. And that includes accepting the possibility that Aaron just might have done this.”
“Okay.” Darian reached for the door. “I have to go. I promised to help get Aaron out of here.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I’d feel safer if we could keep him here until the overall picture gets a little clearer. But I know you always keep your word. I wouldn’t have it any other way. So go ahead.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
He was about to step out when Argo called after him.
“When this is over, Darian, you and I will talk. I mean, I don’t parade things around but I don’t lie about anything either. And I did enjoy our dinner the other night, even if it ended kind of awkwardly.”
