One Way Ticket (A Smith and Hughes Mystery Book 1)

by Jay Forman

  “I third Andre’s motion.” Lang raised his hand like a schoolgirl ready to ask or answer a question.

  “The ball’s in your court now, Lee.” Dick leaned back in his chair and it literally groaned from the strain. “But I’d like to add that you can only release information if we, the Board, of which I am the chair, give you written permission to do so after we’ve seen it.”

  “I already said okay.” I added a few more words, even though I thought I’d been clearly agreeable the first time.

  “Excellent. I’ll have an agreement drawn up by the end of business tomorrow.” Dick slapped one of his oversized palms on the table. Thankfully, the hand didn’t burst. “I suggest you have your own independent counsel look it over.”

  “What do you do in real life, Dick?” I was pretty sure that I already knew the answer to my question.

  “I’m the senior partner at Allenby, Winslow, and Fletcher.”

  “Oh.” I resisted the urge to add ‘Bully for you’ to my reply.

  “Now for our third issue,” Dick moved the meeting forward. “It has been suggested to us that you, Lee, fill in for one of our residence dons.”

  I glared at Jack, but he turned to look at Andre.

  “While you are a former student, and understand everything entailed in what Berkshire life means, the girls in your dorm are going to wonder why you’ve suddenly come on the scene.”

  “Nobody mentioned anything about this to me,” I continued to glare at the side of Jack’s head. Had that pick-up truck cracked his skull? It was the only possible explanation for him suggesting that I stay at Berkshire! “I’d prefer to not stay here.”

  “Oh.” Dick looked surprised. “I didn’t realise that you’d bought a place up here, or maybe you’re staying with Jack. That makes things a bit more complicated. Can you teach anything, maybe as a guest lecturer? Everyone’s used to seeing Jack around, but you...,”

  Jack was looking at me now and, damn it, I began to understand why he’d suggested putting me in the dorms. Dick didn’t know. Neither did anyone else at the table. Jack was still keeping my secret safe. Had he come up with a new story of my life for the Board? The one I’d tried to use when I was a student sure hadn’t worked out well. I felt the heat of humiliation spread through me and hoped that my face hadn’t turned bright red.

  “I think filling in for the residence don is the best option,” Jack said while staring hard at me.

  He was right, but I didn’t want to admit it.

  “That’s agreed to, then.” Dick took my silence as acceptance. “Next issue – Sylvie has agreed to take early maternity leave, with full pay, in order to facilitate your immediate inclusion on our don staff. But we’ll need your assurance…,”

  “In writing, right?” I couldn’t resist asking.

  “Yes, in writing, that you won’t ever divulge to the students, their parents or your fellow staff members why you’re here.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then I’m satisfied with the terms.” Dick brought his hands up and tapped his fingertips together just under his third chin.

  “Seconded.” Yet again, Marcy was in the seconding position.

  “Third.” Lang played his role, for the third time.

  “The ayes have it, then.” Andre had such delicious bedroom eyes.

  “So, where will you start?” Dick pulled out his BlackBerry and started to read its tiny screen.

  I’d let Jack handle that question. He’d already arranged for me to move into Berkshire, so maybe he had other plans, other surprises, up his sling?

  “Well, obviously I’ll have to talk this over with Lee first...,”

  Gosh, what a great idea! It sure would have been nice if he’d thought of it earlier.

  “...but I was thinking that Lee could start by getting to know Kayla’s friends. And I’ll get in touch with Kayla’s mother. According to Mark, all of Kayla’s things were sent down to her place in the city after the police finished looking at them and she wouldn’t let Mark see them. He’s concerned that she might be hiding something from him.”

  “I’m surprised he had the balls to even ask her,” Dick’s eyeballs protruded a bit. “Good luck taking her on.”

  “She doesn’t scare me.”

  “I think we should both talk to Kayla’s mother...,”

  “You don’t have to be involved in that.” Jack shut me down.

  Whoa! First he pushed me into staying at Berkshire and now he was pushing me away from talking to Kayla’s mother? What was he up to?

  “I saw that the gates to her place were open when we were driving over. Does anyone know if she’s up here right now, or is it just the staff?”

  I began to question just how wrong I’d been in my first impression of Kayla, a girl I’d assumed had been living the perfect blessed life of a star Berkshire student. She hadn’t had the perfect nuclear family and there was obviously a lot of bitterness between her parents, bitterness that wasn’t hidden for the sake of appearances. Jack had told me why Kayla’s father wasn’t at the meeting, he was on a book tour, but why wasn’t her mother there? I had issues with my own mother but she would have shown up, even if only to be seen, if I’d taken that step out of the tower. My mental list of assumed answers regarding Kayla was rapidly turning into a longer list of unanswered questions about her and her life.

  “I don’t know where she is, but I can email you her cell number,” Andre offered.

  “That’s okay, I’ve got it. I’ll give her a call later. Lee and I will obviously have to talk to the people who were in the school that night, too.”

  “You were here. With us.” Lang sounded as if he was already defending his innocence. “But we’d wrapped up before, well, you know ... before. I think most of us had left by the time it happened.” He, too, had a leather portfolio in front of him and he quickly opened it and began leafing through the papers inside it. “I’ve got the minutes in here somewhere.” He pulled out a page with Berkshire’s letterhead on it. “Myrna wasn’t at the meeting because she was in Japan on business. Donald wasn’t here, either. I’m not sure why. And…,”

  “You should already have your copy of the minutes, Jack.” Marcy silenced Lang.

  Jack pulled a small notepad out of his pocket and started jotting down notes. “Does anybody remember exactly when our meeting ended?”

  They all looked at each other. Lang shrugged his shoulders.

  “I’m not sure of the exact time. We usually wrap up just before ten o’clock. I’d already left the building before it happened.” Marcy looked at Andre. “You said the place was locked up tight, no one in or out, once the police got here. It wasn’t locked down when I left.”

  “It wasn’t the police who locked the school down,” Dick corrected her, answering for Andre. “It was that pothead Karl, the security guard. Totally against fire regulations, too. He didn’t just arm the doors – he locked ‘em.”

  “Some teachers were still in the main building,” Lang offered. “I think I saw the music teacher.”

  “And students and kitchen staff and probably some janitorial staff. And the boarding dons, of course.” Andre smiled and winked at me. “I’m sure you’ll be able to tighten the field when you’re bedding down here.”

  Player! Most people would have said ‘when you’re living here’ or ‘staying here’, but not Mr. Sexy. His blatant cockiness brought my hormones to a full and complete stop. He enjoyed working his sexiness and that kind of power could be dangerous – especially in a school half-full of girls stumbling their way through the minefield of puberty.

  Chapter Five

  Marcy and Lang left quickly. Dick and Andre, however, lassoed Jack into a huddle at the far end of the table to discuss ‘an investment opportunity’. Like Jack needed another one of those!

  “Are you finished here now, Lee?” Mademoiselle Cailleux stood in the open doorway. “The headmistress would like a word with you.”

  I immediately felt guilty, even though I knew there was n
o reason why I should. But I’d heard those words too many times before and they always meant I was in trouble for something.

  “Does she want me, too?” Jack sounded like a drowning man asking for a lifeline.

  “No, dear, just Lee.” She waved at me to come.

  I followed her out into the hallway and was surprised by the quick pace she was setting as we trotted toward the headmistress’ office.

  “Did your meeting go well?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess so.”

  “My goodness, Jack’s an attractive man, isn’t he? Are you two an item now or are you still just friends?”

  Wow. There was nothing wrong with her memory! “We’re friends. Best friends.”

  “What a pity. Oh well. I suppose nowadays being friends with benefits is perfectly acceptable.”

  I couldn’t hold my laugh in. Let her think we were sleeping together. Jack sure thought about it often enough.

  “I’m not supposed to know why you’re here, but I do. With your life history, having seen a real investigation through from beginning to end, you’re the perfect person for the job.”

  I wasn’t laughing anymore. And she noticed it.

  “Oh dear, that just slipped out.” She slowed down and hooked her arm into mine. “Please forgive the confused mutterings of a senile old woman?”

  She hadn’t been muttering, she’d been very clear, and there wasn’t anything senile about her thought process.

  A tall girl burst out into the hallway through the door marked Offices and almost smashed into both of us. Like Kayla, she wore a braided gold belt.

  “Sorry, Mem C!” she shouted. The white wires that ran from her ears to the breast pocket of her white blazer were practically jumping to the throbbing beat that was pulsating along them. She popped the earbuds out of her ears and quickly reached into her pocket to turn the volume down. I recognised Shawn Mendes’ “Something Big” because every radio station in North America was playing the song ad nauseam.

  “No harm done, Glyn. Although, if you continue to listen to music at that volume I can guarantee you that there will be harm done to your eardrums. While your acceptance to Julliard is indeed something big...,”

  The girl’s eyes opened wide. “How do you know about Julliard? I’ve told almost nobody!”

  “I hear things, here and there. I have excellent hearing. Now run along. You should be in music class. Perhaps Mr. Russell would be interested in starting a theoretical discussion about how young Mr. Mendes can avoid some of the pitfalls that Mr. Bieber has repeatedly stepped into? I’d suggest that Mr. Timberlake would be a much better Justin for him to emulate. It would be nice if our country could export young talent that we’re not ashamed of.”

  The girl laughed. “You’re the best, Mem C,” she called out as she ran down the hallway.

  How many eighty, or possibly ninety, year olds knew who Shawn Mendes, Justin Bieber and Justin Timberlake were? When I’d been that girl’s age I hadn’t had a clue that inside the tiny woman who taught me French there lurked one very sharp mind. I felt as if I was seeing her for the first time, even though I’d spent hundreds of hours looking at her (pretending to pay attention). “I’ve noticed that the students call you Mem C now. When did that start?”

  “A few years ago. I blame it on all that texting nonsense. Apparently, the youth of today are so strapped for time that they don’t have enough of it left to enunciate all the syllables in Mademoiselle Cailleux.”

  She opened the door and I followed her into what had been and still was the headmistress’ reception area. No one was sitting at the reception desk and the door to the administrator’s office was closed, so we walked straight through the open door to the headmistress’ office.

  “It appears that you’ll have to wait a few minutes,” Mademoiselle Cailleux said, obviously displeased to find the office empty. She glanced at the open door behind us and gently pushed it almost shut. “Lee?” She whispered.

  “Yes?” I whispered back.

  “Might I ask you what’s probably considered a politically incorrect question?”

  “Go for it.” I forgot to whisper but knew, from the nervous expression on her face, that I’d make sure to whisper my next response.

  “Do you still smoke?”

  I wanted to laugh, loudly. Yet another thing she remembered. And I’d thought I’d been so clever at hiding my sins back then. “No,” I remembered to whisper. “I quit ages ago.”

  “Oh.” Her forehead wrinkled and she looked disappointed. “Well, I do. And I was hoping you’d join me on the bench after your meeting with Dr. Campbell.”

  “You mean the one in the ravine?” That thing was still standing?

  She nodded.

  The outer office door opened and I could hear two women talking as they came in from the hallway.

  Mademoiselle grabbed my arm. “Please, Lee?” she whispered quickly and more quietly than before. “Meet me? There’s something you need to know. Something Dr. Campbell won’t tell you.”

  “Okay, I’ll...,”

  “So this is the infamous Lee Smith.” The woman who supported the world’s second tallest beehive hairdo pushed the door open and marched into the office. (Only Marge Simpson’s hair was taller.) “A pleasure to meet you.” Even the layers of make-up caked on her face couldn’t conceal her considerable displeasure, verging on disgust, as she slowly scanned the length of my jeans. “Thank you for finding her for me, Mademoiselle.” Dr. Campbell put her hand on the door handle and waited for Mademoiselle to realize that she was being dismissed.

  “No trouble.” Mademoiselle started to walk toward the door.

  “I’ll come find you later, Mademoiselle.” Cigarette or no cigarette, I was definitely going to head down to the bench just as soon as I, too, was dismissed from the headmistress’ office.

  Dr. Campbell closed the door and went behind her desk. In a headmistressly way, she waved at one of the paisley patterned chairs in front of her desk. I was being told to sit. Old habits die hard and I was already fighting the urge to rebel against her authority. But I was supposedly an adult, so I decided to try and behave like one. I sat. And tried not to laugh at her hairdo.

  “I’ll keep this brief, Lee.” She leaned back in her chair but her back remained ramrod straight. “I do not support the Board’s decision to involve you in what is, in my opinion, a private matter. Albeit, a tragic matter. The police investigation will come to the logical, and correct, conclusion.”

  “You’re sure that Kayla committed suicide?”

  “Of course I am. However, the Board has decided to let you and Mr. Hughes look into the matter and I must live with their decision.” She tilted, as opposed to leaned, forward. “I have been running this school for over ten years and during my tenure there has never been a hint of scandal of any kind. Why, you ask? Because there haven’t been any scandals. Berkshire is one of the most respected schools in North America, if not the world. We prepare our young wards to be the very best they can possibly be. We teach them to strive for excellence in a world where only the best rise to the top.”

  Why was she regurgitating school propaganda to me?

  “Kayla’s death was a tragedy, but it is a tragedy that she brought upon herself. The school’s reputation has suffered. The student body as a whole has suffered. Kayla’s friends and teachers continue to suffer. More importantly, Kayla’s parents have suffered, and it is their feelings that I’m most concerned with.” She blinked. It was the first physical movement (other than flapping her lips) that she’d made since tilting. “I want your assurance that you won’t do anything to cause them more grief.”

  Apparently, it was my turn to talk now. I made sure that my voice was just as firm and in control as hers. “Jack and I are here because of Kayla’s father’s grief. According to Jack, he’s worried that the police may not have been given access to all the pertinent information. So, if there’s something you haven’t told the police, I’d be stressing out over that i
f I were you.”

  She wasn’t stressing. She was fuming. Her nostrils flared and she snorted like a horse. “You truly believe that you’re equipped to do a more thorough investigation than the trained officers and detectives of the Ontario Provincial Police? You write travel articles. They may be well-written, you did achieve high grades in your English classes, but they’re hardly investigative pieces.”

  “I investigate destinations, in depth.” I stopped myself before going any further. I didn’t have to defend myself to her! “Let’s cut the crap, okay?” That made her move. The movement was a noticeable jerk. “Kayla’s father wants me here. Jack wants me here. So here I am.” She opened her mouth to speak but I was faster at the word draw. “I’ll respect your school rules; I’ll respect the Board’s rule about not telling anyone why I’m here.” I stood up. This meeting was going to end on my terms and if a little rebellious immaturity slipped out, she’d just have to deal with it. (What could she do to me? Give me a detention?) “But let’s be absolutely clear about one thing – I don’t respect you. And I don’t give a damn whether or not you approve of me being here. What matters is the truth, finding out what’s behind a carefully marketed image, and I’m really good at doing that.” I turned to leave with my head held high.

  She was beside me in an instant, walking with me to the door. “Lee,” her voice was artificially sweet. “Please understand, I think of our boys and girls as my children. I’m just a mother lion protecting her cubs. All I ask is that you tread gently. Kayla was one of our top students.” She stood in front of me, blocking the door. “Surely, you remember what it was like to be a teenager? Were you perfect? Didn’t you do things then that you’d be embarrassed to have come to light now?” A caricature of a sincere smile creased her foundation. “I’ve read your file and you yourself had a few incidents that I’m sure you wouldn’t want made public.”