Katy and I stared at her, speechless.
“The problem is,” continued the principal, ignoring our shocked faces, “her father and her aunt sit on my board and they made a seven-figure donation to the academy last year.”
She leaned back and gazed out of the window, her brow furrowed and her lips set in a thin line.
“Her aunt is an alumna of this school. The sports center has their family name on it and they have hinted about announcing a further contribution at our annual board meeting. A significant donation, I might add, that will make a big difference to our establishment.”
When Martha turned back to us, she looked weary.
“She’s been gone almost thirty-six hours now,” she said in a gruff voice. “Do you see my problem here?”
“I do,” I said, keeping a stoic face. “I do, indeed.”
It was all about the money. She didn’t give a hoot if the girl was safe or not.
“I’ve talked to the staff and teachers and I have their word to keep quiet,” said Martha. “The students think Brianna went home for a family emergency, so they’ve not paid much attention to her not being in class or not showing up in the dining hall at mealtimes.”
“How do we explain our presence?” I said.
“I’ve told them two research assistants from Boston University are coming to help me with a project. I’d like you to maintain that story.”
Katy and I nodded.
“You have three days,” said Martha, lifting a hand and spreading her fingers out. “Three days to find this little wench and get her into her room in a state of mind where she wouldn’t make any more fuss. The board meeting is on Friday and I cannot move that.”
“If, by any chance, someone was involved in her disappearance,” I said, “this becomes a serious police matter.”
The principal’s face contorted into an ugly scowl.
“If that girl got herself kidnapped, I place the blame solely at her feet.”
“But, she’s just a kid—” started Katy.
“Let’s find her first and we’ll decide how to tackle the next steps, shall we?” said Martha.
Neither Katy nor I replied, but her message was clear.
If we found anything dubious, she would sweep it under the rug until she’d secured the funding.
Discretion above all else.
At least she didn’t think Brianna Madison was dead. That was a start.
What Martha May didn’t know was my allegiance was always to the truth. But there were too many missing pieces to this puzzle right now. I had to bide my time till I learned more.
Martha stared at me for a moment. I could see she was worried I wouldn’t take on the offer, that we’d walk away, or worse, call the media with a juicy story.
“Look,” she said, with a heavy sigh. “I need your help. Find the girl. Do it for her sake if not the school’s.”
I was about to answer when the office door opened with a bang.
Angry voices came from behind us, one being Nick’s. I turned to see what the commotion was all about.
The overpowering smell of expensive perfume wafted our way, followed by the most unlikely person I’d expect to find in a school.
A big boned, overweight woman in her forties, wearing heavy makeup and an expensive designer suit, strutted in like she owned the place. On her feet were the spikiest black heels I’d ever seen, and though it wasn’t that cold out yet, around her neck was a fox fur wrap, with head and tail intact.
It was a good thing Win hadn’t come with us. She’d have thrown up just to see this incarnation of a modern-day Cruella de Vil.
Is she a parent?
Nick came stumbling after the guest, his face scrunched up.
“I told her you were in a meeting,” he stammered to his boss. “I’m sorry, I tried—”
“It’s okay, Nick,” said the principal, waving him away. “You may leave now.”
We all turned to the woman who’d interrupted our conversation.
“You promised!” she cried. “You’re breaking your word!”
She spoke in a guttural, accented voice. She had to be the mother of a kid from Dubai or some wealthy city in the Middle East.
“Haven’t I told you to never disturb me when I’m in a meeting?” snarled Martha. “You can schedule a time like everyone else.”
Katy and I exchanged a confused glance.
She couldn’t be a mother. Martha May would never speak to a parent that way, especially someone who looked like she could afford a decent donation to the school.
The woman pointed a long, red-manicured finger at the principal.
“You said you’d give us Friday off. I’ve already planned a shopping trip to New York. They have the coat I ordered. I need to pick it up and you promised us a day off.”
Is she a teacher? A staff member?
“I never promised such a thing, Ruby,” said Martha. “We’re halfway through the semester and I don’t like the idea of anyone gallivanting outside right now. Already, one girl has run away. Until we find her, I’m not giving anyone any concessions.”
“When is that going to be?” cried the woman, seemingly without a care for the missing girl.
“Soon, I hope,” replied Martha, gesturing at us. “That’s why I’ve invited these ladies here.”
The woman in the spiked heels turned to us and looked us over with a disdainful expression on her face. In our simple pantsuits, I guessed we didn’t measure up to her standards.
The headmistress took a deep breath in, as if she was trying to control herself.
“What a school,” spat the woman. “You can’t even give your staff a measly holiday. I’ve had better principals in Switzerland.”
With that declaration, she swiveled around and stomped out of the office. Nick shuffled over and closed the door again, his head bowed low, as if he was afraid the principal would slap him for his mistake.
I watched the scene, realizing I’d met that woman’s type before. She was the nasty kind I wouldn’t want to meet in broad daylight, let alone in a dark alley.
“My English as a Second Language teacher,” said Martha May with a grimace. “One of my worst hires. Said she had experience with international students when her only qualification was attending a Swiss boarding school. I didn’t realize until too late that all her references came from her own extended family.”
She gritted her teeth.
“Supposedly the daughter of some Middle Eastern royal family. Thinks she can throw her weight around here. What a pain. God, if I could kill that woman—”
She stopped in mid-sentence as if she suddenly realized we were in the room with her. She shifted in her chair.
“Well, that’s one contract that won’t get renewed,” she said. “Between her and Isabella, my hands are full.”
“Who’s Isabella?” asked Katy.
Martha cleared her throat and gave a dismissive wave.
“Getting back to the topic at hand,” she said, composing herself and turning her eyes on us. “I need you to find the girl before noon Thursday. No one, not the students and especially not the media, must even get a hint of your job.”
I bit my lip, wondering if I could stomach working for a woman who seemed to have such strange scruples.
“Look,” said Martha. “I know Madame Bouchard’s estate pays you for taking on this work, but I want you to know that I will be happy to pay ten percent over your market rate for this job.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Katy sat up and smiled. I knew what she was thinking. We wouldn’t have to worry about rent for the bakery for another three months.
My heart battled furiously with my mind. My brain was saying, take it, while my heart wasn’t so sure.
But I couldn’t walk away from a runaway girl, just like that. We could be her last hope.
Do it for the girl’s sake.
I turned to the principal.
“We’ll take the case.”
Martha M
ay let out a sigh.
“My assistant will see you to your room. Make yourself comfortable and join me for dinner in the hall. Thank you.”
It took us a few seconds to realize we were being dismissed.
Chapter Seven
Nick was waiting for us by his desk, shuffling nervously in place.
It was clear his boss was a single-minded, formidable woman who didn’t tolerate insubordination. I wondered if that explained Sally’s strange behavior when she came to visit us too.
Nick escorted us to our car in the parking lot so we could get our luggage out.
“Your room is upstairs by the girls’ dorm,” he said, pointing to the third floor of the east wing of the Victorian building.
“Who lives over there?” asked Katy, indicating the two-story row houses at the edge of the driveway.
“Those are the teaching and administrative staff quarters. We get accommodation there when we sign our contracts.” He paused. “The headmistress thought it would be best if you had a room closer to the girls.”
“Is that house over there Martha May’s?” asked Katy, pointing at the white manor set back in the grounds, next to a line of maple trees.
“That’s her home.”
“What about the rest of the staff?” I asked, as I hauled my bag out of the trunk. “The cooks, gardeners, security, and janitorial staff? Do they come from town every day?”
“We have rooms for them. Downstairs.”
“Downstairs?”
“In the basement.”
“What about contract workers? Do you have any?”
Something about that question seemed to unnerve Nick. He shuffled his feet. “We only have full-time staff. Everyone gets accommodation at the school.”
Interesting.
We were rolling our suitcases up the ramp to head back inside the building when we heard an anguished yell.
Katy and I stopped and whirled around.
“This way, ladies,” said Nick, as if he hadn’t heard the shout. He opened the main door and gestured us in. “I’ll show you to your room now.”
He seemed to be in a hurry, all of a sudden.
“What’s going on over there?” asked Katy, pointing at the side of the building.
A gaggle of girls had gathered in the same corner as before. But this time, a fight had broken out.
A tall girl was pushing a smaller girl around, pulling at her ponytail, and punching her shoulder. The victim was squirming, trying to pull away, but the bully had a firm grip on her arm.
The tall girl wore a smug smile on her face, like she knew what she was doing was wrong, like she knew she would get away with it. Her hangers-on jeered and cheered, oblivious to the bullied girl’s misery.
“Oi,” I called out. “Stop it!”
The smaller girl looked up at us, the only adults in the vicinity, a desperate expression on her face.
“Come,” said Nick, not even turning their way. “I have to get back to the office soon. Have a heavy workload.”
“Wait,” I said, as the bully pushed the ponytailed girl, and she stumbled to the ground. “Aren’t you going to do something about that?”
With an exasperated sigh, Nick let go of the door, came down the ramp and plucked the suitcase from my hand.
“Here, let me help you, Ms. Kade. I really must get back.”
I stared at him, astounded he’d ignore a schoolyard fight. Wasn’t it his job to do something? What was wrong with him?
“Nick,” I said, grabbing my suitcase back. “We can’t just watch that girl—”
“You leave Isabella alone,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. There was a nervous twitch on the side of his mouth now. “Whatever you do, I suggest you leave her be.”
“Why?” I said. “What’s going on—”
“Mr. Davies!” came a shriek from behind us.
I spun around.
Nick looked up with a scowl.
One girl had broken off from the group and was scampering toward us.
“Mr. Davies!” she squealed, waving her arms dramatically. “Mr. Davies!”
Nick let out a resigned sigh.
“What is it now, Ms. Johns?” he asked in a voice that clearly said he wished she wouldn’t answer.
“You’re not gonna believe what we saw!” came the girl’s high-pitched shrill as she trotted our way, flapping her arms. “There’s a dead body in the woods.”
I froze.
“A what?” said Nick, his eyes bulging.
“It was near the gate. We all saw it!” the girl shrilled, pointing in the distance.
“Oh, no,” said Katy.
My heart raced.
Did she find Brianna? Is Brianna Madison dead?
Nick gulped. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out.
I turned to the girl who was now standing under the ramp, hopping from one foot to another, her hands waving in a frenzy.
“When did you find the body?” I asked, leaning over the railing.
“Just a few minutes ago!”
“Is it a man? A woman? A child?”
The girl stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, like she’d just realized I was a stranger, someone not from the school.
I tried again.
“Did you recognize the body?”
“It was a… a…,” she stuttered, looking away. “It was a woman. An old tramp. She was… er… lying on her back.”
“An old tramp?” I said, frowning.
“Yes!” she cried, jumping up and down, a little too eagerly for someone who’d just discovered a corpse. “I almost threw up when I saw her.”
Something about the girl’s demeanor didn’t sit right.
I turned to look at the crowd.
The tall girl was now standing in front of the group, hands on her hips, a smirk on her face, having seemingly forgotten the young student she’d been picking on just moments ago. One of the girls grinned at me.
Something was wrong with this picture.
“It was horrible!” screeched the girl by us. “She was all bloodied and had these awful marks on her. It was sick!”
“Bloodied?” I said. “Marks?”
Why do I feel like we’re being strung along?
“Her clothes were ripped too. I think something ate her!”
“Oh, my goodness,” said Katy, bringing a hand to her mouth.
“Look, I even found her bra,” said the girl.
I thought I spotted a grin escape from the corner of her mouth.
“You did, did you?” I said, sure we were being had now.
The girl popped a white bra from the front of her shirt and twirled it in front of Nick.
Nick stood frozen in place, like a statue.
Her compatriots by the wall collapsed into giggles, and a wide grin broke out across the girl’s face.
I stepped back, shaking my head. I wondered if I’d been too harsh in my judgment of the headmistress. With students like these…
“Is that blood?” said Katy, peering at the red-stained undergarment being waved in front of the assistant’s petrified face.
“My god,” whispered Nick, his face white. He clutched the railing, like he was about to faint.
“Where did that come from?” asked Katy.
“It’s my time of the month. Where’d you think?” replied the girl, a smug look on her face.
A chorus of “ews” and “gross” came from the audience behind her and their guffaws echoed through the school grounds.
I was right. This was all a joke.
Katy stared at the girl in shock. Even I didn’t know how to respond to a prank like that.
Suddenly, like he got a jolt of energy, Nick spun around and ran up the ramp, his neck a beetroot red.
“Whatcha gonna do about the dead body, Mr. Davies?” squealed the girl, running after him to the raucous laughter of her friends.
Nick stumbled over a crack and grabbed the railing to steady himself.
The girls sque
aled louder.
“Mr. Davies!” screeched the girls in unison. “Mr. Daviiies.”
Nick skedaddled inside.
Chapter Eight
Bullies knew a weakling when they saw one.
I wondered how often the girls picked on Nick like this.
“Bunch of brats,” whispered Katy as we stepped inside, and followed the principal’s assistant who was hurrying toward the main staircase now.
It was a subdued Nick who took us up to the third floor. With stooped shoulders and that unhappy expression on his face, he looked like he wanted nothing more than to dump us and leave. But he had a job to do.
With some coaxing, Katy and I squeezed information from him.
The first floor was where the administrative rooms were. This included the principal’s office, the school clinic, the teacher’s common room, the dining hall, and the kitchen.
The classrooms were all on the second floor of the main building. The basement held the staff bedrooms. The school gym was a separate building by the lake, where the girls had their rowing lessons.
The third floor of the main building was a labyrinth of corridors that led to the dorm rooms. Two girls shared a room, unless they paid extra for the singles on the west wing, next to the common living room.
“Which one is Brianna’s?” I asked.
“She has a single room near the common area,” replied Nick.
“Can we see it?” asked Katy.
“It’s locked.”
“How did you get in to find out she had run away?” I asked.
“We used the spare key to open her door when she didn’t come down for breakfast.”
“Where’s the spare?”
“I, er, it’s somewhere in a cabinet in my office.”
“Ms. May said Brianna left a message in her room,” I said. “I’d like to see it, and she mentioned you’d give us the spare.”
“I’ll look for it,” replied Nick, in a dull voice. “It’s just that I have a lot of work to catch up on.”
I spun around to face the man. He stopped in his tracks and gave me a startled look.
“Wasn’t Brianna’s key in the keyhole on the inside of her room when you opened up?”
Nick shook his head dolefully.
“It was gone. Nobody could find it.”
Merciless Crimes: A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series (Merciless Murder Mystery Thriller) Page 3
