“But I—”
“I’ll sit with you until your grandfather or Patrick gets there.”
“You won’t leave me alone?”
“No, I’ll stay with you. I promise.”
The nurse came on the line a second later. She introduced herself and said, “Henry had a little accident. He tripped into a locker and struck his forehead, his nose, and his eye. The nosebleed has stopped, but I’ll keep him here until school dismisses at three fifteen. He’s resting on a cot,” she explained. “The poor lamb’s got a bump on his forehead. I’ve got an ice pack on it now.”
“Have you notified his family?”
“I left a message for Grayson Kincaid. Henry told me his uncle is in New York on business. I also left a message for Henry’s grandfather, and I just spoke to Patrick, Henry’s housekeeper. He was at the dentist and couldn’t leave yet. He’ll be here at the regular dismissal time, but Henry seems insistent that you come, too.”
“May I speak to Henry again?”
“Olivia,” Henry whispered, “Miss Cavit says you should come when school is over.”
“Henry, let her think that’s what I’ll do, but I’m really leaving now and should get there in fifteen minutes or less. All right?”
She could hear the anxiety leave his voice. “Okay.”
Olivia was out the door minutes later. She said a prayer there wouldn’t be any angry people in the garage waiting for her, and blessedly there weren’t. Once she was in her car with the key in the ignition, she used her iPhone to get directions to Pinebrook School. It was a cold, rainy day, which worked to her advantage. Few reporters liked waiting outside in the raw elements. There were several cars parked along the street with their motors running. She spotted them before she turned in their direction and quickly drove the other way, even going so far as to drive down an alley on the off chance she was being followed.
She thought about calling Grayson to let him know she was going to the school, then decided to wait until she had the full story from Henry.
The private school was all redbrick and ivy vines. Very Georgetown, she thought to herself. She pulled into one of the visitor’s slots and went up the stone steps.
A security guard opened the door for her. He was a man in his late sixties and wore a brown uniform. He had a sincere smile and a wealth of information to impart. “You’re here for the Kincaid boy?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” she answered. “My name is Olivia MacKenzie.”
She put her hand out, and he quickly shook it and introduced himself. His name was Arthur. He motioned to a corner, and she followed. “I didn’t see it myself, but I have no doubt what happened,” he stated with a nod. “That Deckman boy is a bully, and he’s been after Henry and his friend Ralph because they’re younger and smaller. I used to be just like those little boys. I was small for my age, and I got picked on. I know what it feels like. I wish Principal Higgins would take a firmer hand.”
“Is the Deckman boy’s first name Bobby? Henry mentioned that name to me.”
“That’s right. Bobby Deckman. He’s been in trouble before, several times, as a matter of fact, but his father does some fast talking and makes a hefty donation, and bam, the problem goes away. I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but I figure, what the heck. I’m retiring in a couple of months, and it’s time someone said something.”
“Tell me what you suspect.”
“The Deckman boy attacked Henry. He smashed his face into the locker. If the custodian hasn’t gotten to it, there’s blood still on the locker. Poor little Henry’s blood.”
“Are there cameras in the hallways?”
“Oh my, yes.” His eyes widened. “I could make you a disc, but I’d have to hurry. As soon as Bobby’s father gets here, I’m afraid the disc will accidentally get wiped.”
She smiled. “Could you make me two?”
He nodded and ducked into the security office next to the school’s entrance.
Olivia didn’t have to stand there long. Arthur reappeared, grinning and waving two discs, just as another security guard rushed down the hall toward them. He explained he had gotten Arthur’s page and would take over front door duty.
“Come with me,” Arthur told her.
He led her up some stairs to a computer lab. Fortunately it was empty. Arthur used his security code to access the Internet, then stepped back so that Olivia could insert the disc. She quickly sent the file to her e-mail account, and she sent another to Grayson. With Arthur hovering over her, she watched the video. The encounter between the two boys lasted less than a minute, but the video left no doubt who the aggressor was. Olivia felt heartsick. Bobby was twice the size and weight of Henry.
Olivia played it one more time. “What grade is the Deckman boy in? He looks like a senior in high school.”
“Fifth. He’s quite big for his age,” Arthur said. “And mean,” he added in a whisper. “Look at his expression as he grabs Henry. He’s enjoying himself. It’s downright evil, if you ask me. I tell you, there’s something missing in that boy’s head.”
She silently agreed. There wasn’t any provocation. Bobby came up behind Henry, half lifted him, and threw him into the locker.
Olivia could feel her anger building. Arthur fueled it when he said, “Do you see? That’s what the Deckman boy does. He chooses a kid and goes after him. Then, when he gets bored, he chooses another kid. Always younger so they can’t fight back.”
“And Principal Higgins?”
“He’s never had any concrete proof until now,” Arthur said. “The kids Bobby goes after won’t tell what happened. They’re afraid. Bobby’s a bully, all right. The school needs to get rid of him.”
Olivia was in wholehearted agreement. She grabbed her phone and called Officer Carpenter, quickly filled him in, and after he gave her his e-mail address, she sent the video to him.
“I’ll take care of it,” he told her.
After making the promise, Carpenter demanded to know why she had left her apartment without a bodyguard. The man was almost as bossy as Grayson, she thought. She had to listen to a lecture and vow to wait for him to come to her.
Arthur walked her to the nurse’s office. “You’ll like Miss Cavit. She worked in a hospital for twenty years before she retired from the long hours and took this job. She’s real good with kids.”
The nurse was sitting at her desk in a tiny room. Beyond was another little room with two cots side by side. Henry was resting on one of them. He lit up when he saw Olivia in the doorway.
Miss Cavit said, “There’s a meeting with Bobby Deckman’s parents after school. Three forty-five. Henry tells me you’re his lawyer.”
She smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”
“I imagine you’ll want to be at the meeting, too.”
“Oh yes, I will.” Olivia walked to the cot and sat down beside Henry. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” he said. “I knew you’d come here ’cause you said you would.”
She turned to Miss Cavit. “Could you give us a moment while I confer with my client?”
“I’ll be at my desk if you need me,” she answered.
When she’d pulled the door closed, Olivia turned to Henry. “Okay, tell me what happened.”
He took hold of her hand, surprising her. His expression was so earnest. “Bobby decided Ralph and I couldn’t try out for soccer.”
“Did he tell you why he didn’t want you to try out?”
“He was just being mean ’cause he can. He’s like that with other kids, too. Honest,” he insisted.
“I believe you, Henry.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small notepad and pen. “Tell me about the other kids he’s bullied.”
Olivia took copious notes, and when she was finished with her questions and had deciphered Henry’s convo
luted stories, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell your uncle Grayson about Bobby Deckman?”
“’Cause Ralph and me were going to stand up to Bobby together.”
“Ralph and I,” she automatically corrected.
He grinned. “You’re just like my uncle and Patrick. They’re always telling me the right way to talk. How come you do it?”
“It’s how I roll.” She laughed after using the silly expression she and the other Pips had often used when they were in the unit together. The non-answer always baffled the nurses.
Patrick arrived a few minutes before three fifteen. He sat on the empty cot next to Henry’s and his tall frame dwarfed the tiny room. Olivia pulled up the video on her phone and let Patrick watch Bobby throw Henry into the locker.
“Oh man,” he whispered. “Has Grayson seen this? He’s going to go ballistic.”
“Not yet,” she answered. “I think we should go to the principal’s office now. It’s almost three forty-five.”
Henry clasped Olivia’s hand and walked by her side down the hall until he spotted some of his friends. He let go then and walked behind her with Patrick, imitating his swagger.
The Deckmans were waiting in the reception area. Mr. Deckman looked like an uptight banker with his conservative suit and tie and his rigid stance. His wife looked like one of those reality show housewives of Washington, D.C. She was unattractive, painfully thin, and had had way too much face work. Brittle was the word that came to mind. Olivia feared that if she shook her hand a little too vigorously she’d crumble into a thousand pieces.
Mr. Deckman didn’t acknowledge them, and his wife kept giving them covert glances but didn’t speak.
Bobby was waiting in the principal’s office. When they were all ushered in by the receptionist, Olivia was taken aback by the hostility in the boy’s eyes. He wasn’t looking at her, though. His anger was directed at his father.
Extra chairs were dragged in. On the left of the principal’s desk sat Brittle, Uptight, and Bobby. On the opposite side, Henry and she sat in straight-backed chairs. There was a chair for Patrick, but he preferred to stand behind Henry. She could tell he was still hopping mad.
Principal Higgins was a young man, probably in his early to middle thirties, Olivia estimated. There were stress lines around his mouth and dark circles under his eyes. Running the all-boys school had taken its toll.
Higgins rubbed his jaw. “This is a difficult situation. We know Henry and Bobby were in an altercation, but the boys have given different interpretations of what happened.”
“Boys like to fight,” Mr. Deckman said.
Had he not shrugged and acted so indifferent, Olivia might have softened her response.
“Your son is a bully.”
“He is not,” Mrs. Deckman snapped. “He’s a normal fifth grader.”
“He’s a bully,” she repeated. “And that won’t stand. Principal Higgins, this isn’t the first time Bobby’s been accused of attacking a student, is it?”
“Now, see here. That’s confidential information,” Bobby’s mother said.
“No, it isn’t,” Olivia replied. “Your son punched Tom Capshaw. Split his lip open.”
“There is absolutely no proof that it was our son who struck Capshaw,” Mr. Deckman argued.
Olivia opened her notepad and glanced at it. “What about Will Kaufman or Matt Farrell?”
“Those altercations happened last year,” Mrs. Deckman said. “It was all hearsay, one boy’s word against another’s, and then both Will and Matt changed their stories.” She turned to her husband. “They were just roughhousing, weren’t they, Sean?”
Her husband nodded. “That’s exactly right. No proof of any wrongdoing.”
“This time there is proof,” Olivia said. She handed the principal one of the discs.
“What is that?” Mr. Deckman asked.
“A security tape,” Olivia answered.
Principal Higgins looked surprised. “I don’t know how you got this, Miss MacKenzie, but I’m not sure we can . . .”
Olivia turned to Bobby’s parents. “You do want to know the truth, don’t you? If it was just two boys roughhousing, this will prove it.”
Mr. Deckman stammered, “Well, of course I—”
“Good,” Olivia said. She nodded to Principal Higgins, who slipped the disc into the computer slot. He adjusted the monitor so they could see it, then came around the desk to watch the video with them.
Not a word was spoken as the event played out on the screen. Mrs. Deckman’s face turned white, and she winced when she saw Bobby throw Henry into the locker. Mr. Deckman’s face turned red. When Olivia turned to look at Bobby, he was smiling. What was he? A sociopath in the making?
Principal Higgins was appalled, but Olivia could detect a hint of relief as he returned to his chair and removed the disc.
Mr. Deckman grabbed the disc from his hand, slipped it into his pocket, and said, “I’d like to look at this again at home.”
Mrs. Deckman smiled at her husband’s quick response. Did she think the problem had just gone away?
“That’s fine,” Olivia said. “I’ve sent the video to Henry’s uncle and to others as well. This isn’t going away.”
Mr. Deckman sprang to his feet and was all bluster when he said, “That’s illegal. I’ll sue. You can’t confiscate private property. It’s an invasion of privacy. It’s . . .” He turned his outrage on the principal. “Do something, Higgins. If you want to keep your job, fix this.”
Principal Higgins was not intimidated. He looked directly at Deckman and stated, “We do not tolerate violence or bullies in this school.”
Mrs. Deckman’s smile had disappeared and she now looked worried. “Yes, we understand, but he’s just a child. We could get him counseling. We’ll do it right away.”
“I don’t know . . .” Higgins began. “We simply can’t have this behavior . . .”
“If we bring charges,” Olivia told the principal, “the decision would be out of your hands. This is clearly a case of assault, and I’m confident that any court would see it our way.”
Principal Higgins was the one who looked worried now. “I understand your point of view, Miss MacKenzie, but for the sake of our school and its reputation, I hope we can find a way to settle this without a legal battle.”
Olivia appeared to consider his concerns and then said, “We suggest that Bobby be expelled from Pinebrook immediately. He should not be allowed to return here or attend any other school until he’s gotten the help he needs. He could have broken Henry’s neck. Surely, you wouldn’t wait until something that serious happened before taking action, Principal Higgins?”
The Deckmans erupted, but Olivia stood her ground. Any threats that the parents hurled at her were met with the sound and logical details she would use in a suit against them and their son.
Until now, Bobby had sat quietly with a smug grin on his face, but he was beginning to see the handwriting on the wall. He rushed to his father, poked him in the chest, and screamed, “Don’t you dare let them kick me out. You’ll be sorry if you do.”
There was no calming the boy. A minute later, as he was being dragged from the office by his mother and father, everyone could hear Mrs. Deckman trying to comfort him with the promise of a new iPad as soon as this mistake was sorted out. Mr. Deckman paused at the door to give Olivia a contemptuous glare before he left.
Olivia spent a few more minutes talking to the principal, and Patrick and Henry waited for her in the reception area. When she came out, Henry hugged her. “Thank you, Olivia,” he said.
She leaned down, smiled, and kissed his cheek. “You’re very welcome, Henry.”
Officer Carpenter was standing by the front door to the school when she walked outside. He held out his hand to take her car keys, but after her protest,
he agreed to follow her in his car if she promised to be cautious. Just to make him happy, she drove under the speed limit the whole way home.
He was just about to say good-bye to her at her apartment door when Mrs. Delaney, who must have been listening for Olivia to return, stuck her head out and announced she needed milk. Carpenter waited while Olivia went into her apartment and came back with a quart. The grumpy woman made her stand there while she found her reading glasses and checked the expiration date, then she thanked Olivia and went back inside.
After Carpenter wagged his finger in Olivia’s face and told her to stay home, he left. Olivia locked her door and leaned against it. She suddenly felt very tired. She changed into snug jeans and a blouse, put her hair up in a ponytail, and went into the kitchen to find something she could microwave for dinner. Determined to eat something healthy first, she made a salad and ate every bit of it. She thought about what had happened at Henry’s school and realized how lucky she’d been that no one had recognized her. Maybe they hadn’t seen the news yet or hadn’t associated her name with the family. Regardless, she was thankful. She even had the thought that maybe it wasn’t going to be as bad as she’d anticipated. Maybe it would go away sooner rather than later.
In her dreams perhaps. Just as she was going to put her frozen dinner in the microwave, another call came in. It was so grossly disturbing, she lost her appetite. She put the dinner back in the refrigerator and curled up on the sofa to watch television.
Her father’s face was plastered on all the major channels. The broadcaster on one news network was interviewing a tearful woman who kept saying she’d been promised a triple return on her money. Olivia pushed the button on the remote and turned the television off. The silence brought a few welcome moments of peace.
She decided a Popsicle sounded good so she got one from the freezer, put it on a plate, and went back to the television. Maybe she could find an old classic movie to take her mind off her worries. A knock on the door startled her, and an instant of panic gripped her stomach. Had one of the angry investors gotten inside the building? She walked over and peered through the peephole. When she saw Grayson standing there, she threw the door open and fell into his arms. He looked tired, she thought.
Sweet Talk Page 27
