Alex shook his hand and then Grace stood and did the same. “Thanks, Mr. Donner. It’s been great seeing you today.”
“It’s always good to see you, Grace. And by the way, you know our annual fund-raiser is coming up in February. It would be great if you could maybe play it up on your newscast after Christmas. Let your viewers know the school you attended needs the support of the community if we are to continue providing quality programs to our students.”
Grace smiled. “I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Donner.”
She turned toward the door, and Alex followed her from the room. They were almost to the front door of the school when a voice rang out in the hallway. “Grace Kincaid! What are you doing here?”
They whirled to face the man coming toward them. “Mr. Caldwell!” Grace hurried to him, and he enveloped her in a big hug. She pulled back and studied him at arm’s length. “It’s so good to see you. I haven’t seen you in years.”
Alex walked to where the two stood and stuck out his hand. “Mr. Caldwell, I don’t know whether you remember me or not. I’m Alex Crowne.”
The man grabbed Alex’s hand and pumped it up and down. “Of course I remember. Who could forget that winning touchdown pass you threw in the state championship your senior year?” He leaned closer to Grace conspiratorially and said in a loud whisper, “We haven’t won a title since then.”
Grace laughed and looped her arm through Mr. Caldwell’s. “Alex, this is my favorite teacher from my high school years. This man turned me on to writing and made me want to be a journalist. I owe him so much.”
Mr. Caldwell gazed down at her and patted her hand. “You owe me nothing. It was a pleasure to teach a student who hung on my every word. I worried all the time that I would give out some wrong information in class and you would correct me.”
Grace shook her head. “I wouldn’t have known if you had. I was too busy trying to be the perfect student in your class.”
He nodded and glanced at Alex. “I don’t think I ever had you in my class, Alex.”
“No, I was sorry I never got you for a teacher. Grace talked about you all the time. I guess you knew Landon Mitchell well, too, since he was your student.”
“I did.”
“And he was a good student?”
“He…” Mr. Caldwell hesitated. “He was a good student until about halfway through his junior year. Then something happened to him. It was like he didn’t have his mind on his studies, and his grades took a nosedive. I talked to him and to his father, but nothing I said helped. By the middle of his senior year, I was afraid he might not graduate.”
“I know,” Grace said. “I saw it happening, too, but I couldn’t figure it out. Did you have any theories concerning this abrupt change in him?”
Mr. Caldwell looked over his shoulder as if to make sure no one could hear what he was about to say. Then he leaned closer. “Of course the first thing you think about is drugs. He had all the symptoms of drug use—failing grades, avoiding old friends, skipping school, getting in trouble all the time. And then I heard he was involved with some secret group here at the school.”
Alex’s eyes grew wide. “What secret group?”
“I don’t know who was in the group, but some of the kids told me they all had wolves tattooed on their shoulders. I was afraid they were selling drugs, but Mr. Donner wouldn’t listen to me.”
Alex and Grace exchanged quick glances. “Did you tell Mr. Donner about what the kids were saying?”
“Yes, but he dismissed it and wouldn’t investigate. When I told him, he looked at me, laughed and said, ‘Patrick, don’t be ridiculous. There are no drugs in this school.’ He doesn’t want the school board to think there are any problems in this school, and he tries to keep quiet anything that might blemish the school’s reputation and cut down on donations from alumni. He’s been this way ever since he came here.”
“So he buries his head in the sand and hopes things will work out?” Grace asked.
Mr. Caldwell nodded. “Yes. If he had taken my concerns seriously and allowed me to find out more, we might have prevented the problem we have now.”
“And what kind of problem is that?” Alex asked.
“Drugs. Drugs are everywhere in this school, and the problem gets worse every day. The administration refuses to acknowledge it, and teachers can’t fight it on their own. I’m thinking of retiring at the end of this year. I’ve already cut back to part-time, but I know it’s time for me to do something else.”
Grace’s forehead wrinkled, and she grabbed Mr. Caldwell’s arm. “What will you do?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I can’t take much more of the atmosphere around here.”
“I’m so sorry,” Grace said. “The students are losing a great teacher.”
Mr. Caldwell straightened to his full height. “My time here is drawing to a close. Somebody else is going to have to take up the fight.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, my. I didn’t realize it’s so late. I have some Christmas gifts to pick up on my way home. They’re for some of the residents at a retirement home where I volunteer.”
“That’s a very nice thing for you to do,” Grace said.
He shrugged and smiled. “I have no family, and neither do some of them. So we’ve become each other’s family. I’ll spend Christmas with them.”
Grace grasped his hand once more. “You’re a good man, Mr. Caldwell. It was great to see you again.”
He smiled and took her hand with both of his. “It was good seeing you, Grace. Don’t stay away so long again.”
“I won’t, and I hope you and your friends at the retirement home have a merry Christmas.”
“I’m sure we will, and merry Christmas to both of you.” Mr. Caldwell turned and hurried down the hall to the door that led to the faculty parking lot. When he exited, Grace turned to Alex. “Mr. Caldwell always seemed so sad when I was in his class. He talked about having no wife or children and how teaching was his life. Volunteering at a retirement home helps fill that void I suppose.”
“I guess so,” Alex replied.
She tilted her head and looked at him. “But his story is a bit different from Mr. Donner’s. I wonder why the principal lied to us about never having heard about a secret group.”
Alex pursed his lips and stared in the direction of the office. “I don’t know, but he did give us some new information about Landon’s friends. I think our next step should be to question Sam Jefferson. I’ll call his office in the morning and get an appointment for us to see him. For now, let’s go see what they’re serving at the Kincaid house for dinner tonight.”
“It sounds like you’re becoming more comfortable being around my family. I’m glad. I’ve wanted that for years.”
Alex didn’t say anything as she headed toward the door. Was he becoming more comfortable with her family? If he was, he needed to be careful. His experience with the Kincaids had only brought him heartache in the past, and it could happen again.
As much as he loved Memphis, maybe his father was right. That job in Florida might be just what he needed to start a new life. Just he and his father living where there was no cold weather and you could walk on the beach every day of the year. The more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him.
EIGHT
The minute she and Alex walked through the door at the law offices of Jefferson, Brooks and Dunbar the next morning Grace knew their old schoolmate Sam had done all right for himself. The waiting area resonated with the unspoken message one needed a fat bank account to afford this firm’s high retainers and huge billing hours.
Grace slowed her steps as she followed Alex into the room and let her gaze drift over the large, framed photographs of breathtaking scenes hanging on the walls. The huge pictures offered a panoramic view of some of the most famous places in the world, places she’d always wanted to visit. Leather couches and chairs with tables beside them were scattered across the area where several people who Grace assumed to be clien
ts sat reading newspapers or magazines.
A huge Christmas tree, its white lights twinkling like tiny diamonds and ornaments dangling from every branch, took up a whole corner of the massive room. The halo of the angel at the top touched the ceiling, and packages wrapped in gold paper sat underneath. A cart next to the tree was loaded with coffee carafes, Christmas cookies, pastries and fruit.
The receptionist smiled at them as she and Alex approached her desk. “May I help you?”
Alex pulled out his badge and showed it to the young woman. “I’m Detective Crowne with the Memphis Police. This is Grace Kincaid from WKIZ. I called earlier this morning. Mr. Jefferson is expecting us.”
The woman’s smile grew larger. “Mr. Jefferson told me you were coming. He’s with a client right now, but I’ll let you know when he’s available. In the meantime, help yourself to the food on the cart.”
Alex nodded and headed to the coffee cart, but Grace stepped closer to the receptionist’s desk. “I couldn’t help but notice all these beautiful framed photographs on the wall. I’d love to have some for my home. Would you mind telling me where you bought them?”
The woman laughed and shook her head. “I’m afraid you can’t buy them anywhere. They’re all Mr. Jefferson’s work.”
“Really? Sam shot all those pictures?”
“Yes. He’s quite the photographer, and he loves to travel. He took them all while he was on trips.”
“I’ll have to tell him how beautiful they are,” Grace murmured. She glanced around at Alex who balanced a cup of coffee in one hand and a Christmas cookie with thick icing in the other as he eased onto a sofa.
He glanced up as she sat down beside him. “This cookie is good. Want one?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“They have eggnog, too.”
“I’ll wait. It’s almost lunchtime.”
“I know, but I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. I need something to tide me over until we go to lunch.”
His words left a question in her mind. Did he mean they would eat together or go their separate ways after seeing Sam? She directed her eyes to her hands clenched in her lap. “You’ve done so much for me over the past few days, I’d like to take you to lunch.”
He washed a bite of cookie down with a swig of coffee and nodded. “Okay. Where would you like to go?”
She thought for a moment before she answered. “A new tea room just opened down on Madison. Laura and I had lunch there the other day, and the food was delicious. They have all kinds of salads and sandwiches.”
He swallowed another sip of coffee. “Do they have barbecue?”
She frowned. “Barbecue? I don’t think so.”
“So they don’t have all kinds of sandwiches. Just chick food that’s on some kind of bread I can’t pronounce and a veggie substitute inside instead of meat.”
Her face grew warm, and she leaned closer. “Well, pardon me. I forgot you live and breathe barbecue. Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you there.”
He laughed, and several people in the waiting area turned to look at them. “I’m sorry, Grace. I couldn’t resist teasing you a bit. You always wanted to introduce me to the culinary delights of Memphis as you called them, but I’m still a meat and potatoes kind of guy. And there’s nothing better to me than Memphis barbecue.”
She burst out laughing at the twinkle in his eye. “I know, Alex, and I won’t try to change you. Since I’m treating you, we’ll go wherever you want. Where will it be?”
He studied her for a moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. “I think I’d like to try the tea room on Madison. Maybe it’s time for some changes in my life.”
His gaze caressed her face as it traveled from her eyes to her lips, where it lingered for a moment before he took a quick breath and settled back on the sofa. Grace eased back into the cushions, picked up a magazine from the table next to the couch and held it in front of her face. What had just happened between her and Alex? Just now they’d laughed and joked together as they had years ago. Was it possible they could become friends again?
Before she could dwell any longer on the relationship changes she and Alex appeared to be experiencing, the receptionist rose from her desk and motioned for them. “Mr. Jefferson will see you now.”
Alex drained the last drop of coffee from his cup and rose to follow Grace. When they reached the desk, the young woman took the cup and set it on a tray beside the door before she led them down a long hallway. They stopped in front of a mahogany door, and she knocked.
“Come in.” The muffled voice came from inside.
She opened the door, stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. Grace eased into the room with Alex right behind her. Sam Jefferson rose from the chair behind his desk and held out his hand. “Alex, Grace. It’s good to see you again.” He shook both their hands and motioned them to the chairs in front of his desk, then he sat down.
Alex propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and leaned forward. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, Sam. From the looks of people waiting, it must be a busy day around here.”
Sam shook his head. “No more than usual. But I always have time for old friends. I don’t think I’ve seen you since we graduated.” He glanced at Grace. “Of course I see you on the news every day, but that’s not the same. How have you been doing?”
Grace smiled. “I’m fine.”
He leaned back in his chair. “And how’s your father doing? I heard about the drive-by shooting. I hope he’s recovered and doing all right.”
“He lived, but he’ll spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. That’s been difficult for him to accept, but I think he has now.”
Sam’s eyes grew wide. “I had no idea.” He stared at her for a moment before he cleared his throat and turned to Alex. “And I read in the paper you’re heading up a new unit at the police department with Brad Austin and another detective.”
Alex nodded. “A Cold Case Unit. Seth Dawtry is the other officer who works with Brad and me. In fact, Grace and I are here today about a case the police have never closed.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“Landon Mitchell’s death.”
Sam’s face paled, and he clasped his hands on top of his desk. “I thought Landon’s death was ruled a suicide.”
Alex shook his head. “Suicide was suspected but never proved. If you saw Grace’s coverage earlier this week, you know Landon’s father jumped from the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge. Before he did, he made some accusations we’re looking into.”
Sam shifted in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “What kind of accusations?”
“He said he suspected Landon was involved with a secret group of some kind before his death. Mr. Mitchell found lots of money hidden in his son’s room, and he also saw a wolf tattooed on his shoulder.” Alex paused and took a breath. “We thought you might know something about these things.”
Sam regarded Alex with an aloof expression and shrugged. “Why would I know anything? I barely knew Landon.”
Grace sat up straight and gasped. “Sam, how can you say that? Our senior year you were with him all the time.”
Sam directed a frosty glare in her direction, and a shiver went up Grace’s spine. “I had a lot of friends. Landon was one of them, but we didn’t hang out together after school. In fact, I found him rather boring.”
“So these other friends you had,” Alex interrupted. “Would they have been Jeremy Baker, Billy Warren, Clay Mercer and Dustin Shelton?”
Sam picked up a pencil from the desk and began to roll it in his fingers. “Yes, they were friends of mine.”
“Did you know that Jeremy, Billy and Dustin are all dead, too?”
“Yes. I was sad when I heard about each of them.”
Alex leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s strange that four boys you were friends with in school have all died.”
Sam shook his head. “Not necessarily. Everybody dies, Alex. Some sooner t
han others.”
“Do you know if any of them had a wolf tattooed on their shoulders?” Alex’s stare didn’t waver from Sam’s face.
Sam didn’t flinch but returned an icy glare. “I have no idea.”
Alex let his gaze drop to Sam’s shoulder. “What about you? Do you have a wolf tattooed on yours?”
Sam rose to his feet, tossed the pencil he held to the desk, and glanced at his watch. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut our visit short. I have paying clients waiting to see me.”
Alex and Grace rose as Sam walked over to the door and opened it. “It was good seeing you two again. Maybe we’ll meet at the next reunion of our graduating class.”
Alex trailed Grace to the door and stopped in front of Sam. “I’m going to find out what happened to Landon, Sam. If you think of anything that might help, give me a call at the station.”
“I will.”
“Goodbye, Sam,” Grace said as she and Alex walked from the office.
They had only taken a few steps when Sam’s voice called out. “Oh, Alex.”
They stopped and turned to face him. “Yes?” Alex said.
“For your information I’ve always been afraid of needles. I have no tattoo.”
Before they could answer, he closed the door. They looked at the door then back to each other and walked from the office. They didn’t speak until they’d climbed into Alex’s car. Then Grace swiveled in her seat and faced him. “What did you make of our visit?”
Alex smiled and shook his head. “He knows something. He tried to hide it under his courtroom facade, but my question about the tattoo rattled him.”
“What will we do now?”
“Let’s give him a few days to stew over what we told him. Then we’ll come back. In the meantime, how would you like to take a trip to Nashville to see Clay?”
“That sounds like a great idea. When do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. With the holidays Clay may be back in Memphis. I’ll check tomorrow and let you know.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Now how about some lunch? I’m starved.”
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