Judy snapped her fingers. “Oh, that reminds me. I told Brad I would call and give him the name of my realtor. It’s been fun talking to you.”
Judy bolted from the supply closet, leaving Deena with cold coffee, a soggy donut, and more questions than answers.
• 5 •
Once in her classroom, Deena pulled the enlargement of the image out of her file drawer. Scanning the picture, she saw Lacy on the sidelines with her cheerleader squad, all waving their pompons. They appeared to be celebrating the touchdown, just as she would have expected. She searched the bleachers just above where the cheerleaders were standing. There were lots of students and parents. Her eyes rested on a boy that looked like Derrick.
She grabbed a magnifying glass off her desk to see if the boy was indeed Derrick. Gasping, she instantly understood why he had been so uncomfortable talking about the photographs. Derrick had his arm around another girl. Deena recognized her as a freshman from her introductory photography class.
The bell rang and Deena returned the picture to its hiding place.
Mystery solved.
*
Besides Carl being absent, Deena’s first-period yearbook class was unremarkable and whizzed by. Two minutes before the bell to end class, she instructed her students to close their computer programs and put away supplies. That’s when the classroom door opened.
Lacy Baldwin stood in the doorway, looking like an abandoned puppy. Several girls raced up to greet her.
But why was she here? Did she have a pass from her first-period teacher? The bell rang and the classroom emptied faster than a broken bottle of milk. Kids valued their five-minute passing period almost as much as teachers did.
When the flurry of backpacks and bodies had disappeared, all that remained was Lacy.
She closed the door behind the girl. “What’s up, sweetie? I didn’t think you were coming to school today.”
Lacy burst into tears and pulled her black hoodie around her face.
Deena guided her over to the chair next to her desk. Luckily, it was her conference period, so Deena had time to talk. She pulled tissues out of the box on her desk and shoved them at Lacy.
“Something awful has happened,” she said between sobs. “Derrick has run away.”
“Run away?” She pictured a six-year-old with a dirty face and scabs on his knees carrying a knapsack tied to a pole. Wasn’t he a little old for that?
“Detective Evans showed up at his house last night to ask him questions about my mother. He must have found out about the rumors. Probably from his snobby son, Jeremy. Anyway, Derrick texted me sometime during the night when I was asleep and said he was leaving Maycroft and never coming back. Carl is driving around trying to find him. Derrick doesn’t have a car, so we’re hoping he’s still in town somewhere, unless he was able to hitch a ride.” The tears once again rushed down her cheeks.
With no makeup and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, Lacy looked like she should be on a merry-go-round at the park, not driving up to school to talk about her missing boyfriend.
“Why do you think he took off?” Deena asked.
“I don’t know.” Lacy looked straight at Deena for the first time. “You don’t think he had something to do with my mom’s death, do you?”
Deena thought about the photograph in her file cabinet. “No, I absolutely do not.” She couldn’t show the picture to Lacy in the state she was in now. The girl would be devastated to see the “love of her life” embracing another girl. That rat fink. “Just so you know, I found a picture Carl took of the bleachers at the time of your mother’s accident. It clearly shows Derrick sitting with…friends.”
Lacy’s face lit up. “Are you serious? That’s just what we need to show Detective Evans! That’s why I’m here! Can I have it?” She held out her hand. Hope had suddenly replaced despair.
“Actually, no. Not yet anyway. It’s school property, and I have to go through the administration, you see.”
Lacy’s smile slid from her face. “But those are Carl’s pictures. He took them.”
“I know it seems that way, but technically they belong to the school. It has to do with insurance and liability and culpability,” she said, parroting Justin Metz. “I promise to let Detective Evans know as soon as possible.”
Lacy looked down at her lap, pulling the flannel sleeves of her jacket over her hands. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What is it? You believe me, don’t you?”
“Yes, it’s just that…if the police think someone may have killed my mother and it wasn’t Derrick, who was it?” She looked up at Deena.
That’s the million-dollar question, she thought. Although Deena had a theory, her first priority at this moment was Lacy. “What about your dad?”
Lacy’s eyes widened. “You think Dad killed Mom?”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean, what does your dad think happened to your mom?” She put her hand on Lacy’s shoulder reassuringly.
“He said it was an accident, but he said he didn’t see what happened. He was watching the game.”
“Then I’m sure that’s exactly what happened.” Deena nodded. She glanced at the clock, ready for this conversation to be over so she could make some calls.
“But, I’m wondering,” Lacy said in a voice barely above a whisper, “if Dad didn’t do anything, why did he hire a lawyer?”
That was a tough one. How could Deena explain that suspicious deaths were often investigated as homicide and that the vast majority of the time they were committed by a spouse or close loved one? Of course, it wasn’t that unusual to hire a lawyer even if you’d done nothing wrong. “You don’t really believe your father is responsible, do you?”
Lacy shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. My parents had been yelling and fighting so much for the last couple of months, I don’t know what to think. My dad wanted to move to Houston for a better job, but Mom said no. I think it had something to do with me. I’m—I’m scared to go home.”
Deena’s stomach churned. The soggy donut felt as though it was trying to make a reappearance. Although teenagers lean toward drama, Deena couldn’t really send Lacy back home where she would feel unsafe. She suddenly felt like she was crossing a line between helpful, supportive teacher and inappropriate third party. “Is there somewhere you can go until I can talk to Detective Evans? Someone you can trust?”
“I guess I can go to Caroline’s house. I mean, Mrs. Osborne was Mom’s best friend.”
“That sounds perfect.” Deena handed her a pad of paper. “Write down your cell phone number, and I’ll call you as soon as I know something. You can call me through the school office if you need me.”
Lacy wrote down the number and wrapped her arms around Deena. “Thank you, Mrs. Sharpe.”
Deena walked her to the door. “I know everything seems terrible now, but you have to trust that the adults around you can work everything out.”
Lacy nodded and left.
Trust. Lacy wasn’t the only one who needed to learn that. Deena picked up the phone and called Detective Evans.
• 6 •
The weeks leading up to Homecoming were some of the busiest in the fall. Students tended to be even more hyper than usual. School spirit was high, but so was the workload. They had a newspaper deadline looming and no time to waste.
Detective Evans agreed to come by and get the picture she had printed. He showed up a few minutes before the lunch bell.
Deena stood in the open doorway with one eye on her class and the other on Detective Evans. She told him about her visit from the three students the night before and from Lacy earlier that morning.
“Missing? What do you mean Derrick is missing?” Evans asked.
“Lacy said he ran away.” She pointed to the picture. “You can see that he’s sitting here with other students. This picture was taken right after the touchdown at the end of the game. Obviously he couldn’t have been next to Mrs. Baldwin and here at the same time.”
�
��This picture is strong evidence. It corroborates what Derrick told me last night. Still, it doesn’t make sense that he would run off like that. Does he know about the picture?”
“I don’t think so,” Deena said. She pointed to the girl next to Derrick and explained why she hadn’t shown it to Lacy.
“Well, if I know teenage boys—which I do—Lacy will be able to get in touch with him if anyone can. I’m probably going to have to show her this picture. I have questions, but she should be able to call him or text him and let him know the coast is clear.”
“Just so you know,” Deena said, shushing her students who were growing more rowdy as the lunch bell approached, “she’s concerned about her father. She thinks there’s a possibility he may have had something to do with her mother’s death. I know you don’t have a daughter, but girls can be super dramatic at her age. Do you think she has reason to be suspicious?”
“At this point, it’s hard to say other than the fact that the spouse is the most likely person to be responsible if there was indeed foul play. It’s early though. We’re still looking for eye-witnesses, trying to track down insurance policies, mistresses—anything that could show motive.”
“When she said she was afraid of him, I thought it best to tell her to go to a friend’s house for now. I hope that was okay.”
“So she’s not at home?”
“No, but I have her cell phone number. She said she was going to Judy Osborne’s house.”
Evans made a note. “That was good advice. Since her father has lawyered up, he might not have let me speak to her at the house.” He looked back at the photo. “Is this Lacy?” he asked, squinting at the picture.
Deena nodded.
“Poor kid. She had no idea her world was about to turn upside down forever.”
The bell rang, and they stepped aside to avoid the stampede of the hungry pack racing to the cafeteria.
“Let me get you a manila envelope for that picture,” Deena said. As she started to slide it inside, something caught her eye. “What’s this?” She picked up the magnifying glass to get a closer look. What she saw made her gasp. “Look here,” she said, pointing to a man near the bottom edge of the image.
Evans took the magnifier. “Is it a man with a camera?”
“That’s what it looks like to me. And look where he’s aiming it.”
Sure enough, the man appeared to be taking a picture straight up the bleachers and off to the side where the Baldwins would have been sitting.
Although Evans tried to play it cool, she could see his eyes gleam at the revelation. “His back is to the camera. We need to find out who this is. He may have a picture of the crime scene.”
“Or accident scene,” Deena said. “Let me see it again.” She looked up from the picture and smiled. “I know who it is. That woman next to him is Agnes Granbury. That’s her husband, Harlan. He used to teach history here. He’s retired now.”
“Harlan Granbury,” Evans said, adding the name to his notes. “Looks like I’ve got some leads to follow. Thanks for all your help. Tell that boy, Carl, his picture may be the key to solving the case.”
Deena watched as the detective hurried off, the clatter of his boots echoing in the empty hallway.
It was a double-edged sword. Carl may have solved the case, but in the process, he may have sent his friend’s father off to prison.
• 7 •
Tina Mallory was quite a bit younger than Deena and had a lot more energy. She taught speech and somehow knew all the campus goings-on. She walked into Deena’s classroom to eat her lunch.
Before Deena could say anything, Tina had pulled up a student desk and spread out her lunch stuff. “I was hoping you’d be free today,” Tina said. “I’m dying to know what’s going on with you and Detective Evans. His son isn’t in your class, is he? Are you in trouble or something?”
“Slow down, kiddo. One wild accusation at a time, please.” Deena pulled out her sandwich and chips. “You’re correct, the Evans boy is not in my class. Mr. Evans wanted information about school pictures.” It wasn’t really a lie; it just wasn’t the whole truth. She didn’t think it would be wise to tell Tina about the investigation. “Am I in trouble? Maybe. I was hoping you could tell me about Justin Metz. Has he seemed different to you lately?”
“Different? How?” Tina was knuckle deep in an orange she was attempting to peel.
“I don’t know. More stressed, maybe?”
“I haven’t really noticed, but it wouldn’t surprise me with as much as he has going on.”
“You mean with work, I suppose.”
Tina rolled her eyes. “Hardly, unless you consider tangling up your personal life and professional life ‘work.’”
“Okay. I must be out of the loop. What are you talking about?” Deena shoved a handful of potato chips into her mouth.
“I’m not one to gossip, of course, but it’s pretty obvious he has a ‘special friend’ on campus.”
So that explains the bowties. “Is it another man?”
“No! A woman. He’s always walking by her room. Haven’t you noticed?”
“I didn’t think administrators were allowed to date teachers on the same campus.”
“They’re not.”
“I see. So they’re trying to keep it on the down low. No wonder he’s stressed.”
“If only that were the half of it. I’m sure you heard what happened when school started.”
Deena shook her head. “Assume I didn’t. Tell me.”
“Sheesh. For a journalism teacher, you sure do keep your head in the sand.”
“Hey, now. If you want to know who made National Honor Society or where the Science Club is going on their next field trip, I’m your gal. This other stuff is off my radar.”
“Well, this stuff is way more interesting.” Tina flashed a sly grin. “Let’s just say that a certain cheerleader’s mom wanted to make sure her child got a particularly easy algebra teacher so her daughter could pass the class without breaking a sweat.”
Cheerleader. The word sent a hot flash through Deena, although it didn’t take much for that to happen these days. “Which cheerleader?”
“Lacy Baldwin.”
Deena’s jaw dropped. “What happened?”
“You might say that Mrs. Baldwin used all her ‘assets’ to make sure Metz gave her daughter a schedule change.” She winked at Deena.
“Oh, good grief. And now Mrs. Baldwin is dead.”
“I know! That’s the weirdest part of it. Maybe it was bad karma or something.”
Bad karma doesn’t usually result in death. Natalie Baldwin was a victim of something—or someone— more worldly. “I feel so bad for Lacy. At least she has friends like Caroline Osborne and her mother to watch over her.”
“Friends? From what I hear, they are more like rivals. Natalie Baldwin pushed her daughter to be the best at everything.” She took a bite of the orange that was now in shreds on the desk. “Anyway, Justin still has to try to keep the affair—brief as it was—a secret from Lynette.”
“Lynette Andrews? The JV cheerleader sponsor? Don’t tell me that’s who he’s dating.”
“Oops.” Tina slapped her hand over her mouth. “Didn’t mean to let that cat out of the bag.”
“Does she know about Justin and Mrs. Baldwin? Do you think she’ll break it off with him if she finds out?”
“Depends on how desperate she is. With those legs and that blond hair, I can’t imagine she’d let him get away with it. The other problem is that if Haskett finds out that they’re seeing each other, they’ll either have to call it off or one of them will have to transfer to the middle school.”
“Wow. What a predicament.”
“Why do you think they call him Justin the Juggler? Ooh, speak of the devil, he’s lurking outside your door.” Tina tossed her head in that direction.
Deena had almost forgotten her promise to give him the flash drive after lunch and wondered if it was worth trying to stall again even thoug
h she still hadn’t talked to Haskett. She stepped out into the hall. “Can I help you?”
“Mrs. Sharpe, you know good and well why I’m here. Apparently, you didn’t get the flash drive from your house. If I have to write you up for insubordination, I will. I can’t believe—”
Deena turned on her heels and walked to her desk. She pulled one of the copies of the drive from her drawer. Keeping her posture steady, she slapped it into the vice principal’s hand.
His face softened, but only a fraction. “I see. Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your lunch.”
Deena slithered back to her desk.
“What was that about?” Tina asked. “He looked fit to be tied.”
Before she could answer, the phone rang. It was Haskett. Deena turned her back to Tina, although she knew her friend would be listening to every word.
“I heard you were looking for me this morning. What is it?” he asked.
She didn’t want to be too specific, knowing that whatever she said would likely be fodder for the gossip mill. She tried to lower her voice as much as possible. “Um, uh, I just wanted to know if I should give those pictures to Mr. Metz. The ones for the liability case. He said you told him to handle it for you.”
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if Mr. Metz or Ms. Marshall or any administrator asks you for something, you should darn well comply.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
“Now if that’s all, I have a parent outside my office ready to pull her son out of school if he doesn’t get a taller plume for his band hat. Good day.”
The line clicked dead. Deena stared at the phone. So Justin Metz was lying. What was in those pictures that he was so anxious to get his hands on? Was it even going to be there? Maybe she should take a closer look for herself.
“Deena,” Tina asked. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” she answered absently. “I just don’t know.”
• 8 •
Deena was almost afraid to answer the school phone when it rang again a few hours later. She had just finished a lesson on the Rule of Thirds in her introductory photography class. Her students were busy searching through magazines to cut out examples.
Sharpe Image: Prequel Novella (Maycroft Mystery Series Book 0) Page 3
