I turned around to check on Jayden. He hadn’t moved from his position and still had his eyes closed.
“Hanging in there, buddy?” I said softly. “We’re back at the school. We’ll get someone to look at you.”
Jayden opened his eyes and gave an imperceptible nod. He pushed his hand from under the blanket and gave me a feeble thumbs up.
I returned the gesture with a smile.
Good. He can hear me. He can understand me and he can move. Maybe the concussion wasn’t as bad as I was worrying about.
I got out and opened the back door when I heard voices behind me.
“What in good god’s name is going on?”
It was Martha, marching over.
Katy was pacing up and down at the top of the steps, speaking furiously on the phone. I presumed she’d finally got through to the emergency dispatch.
I turned to the principal.
“He got rammed by a truck.”
“What?”
“We were right behind him when it happened. Just fifteen minutes ago. It was a large black utility truck. Do you have one in the school?”
Martha stared at me in shock for a few seconds, then mutely shook her head.
“Is he okay?” she asked in a low voice.
This woman must have a smidgen of humanity after all, I thought, as I moved aside and opened the car door wider.
She stepped up gingerly and bent down to peek inside.
“You’re bleeding,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth. “Jayden, what happened?”
Pushing against the seat, Jayden raised his head and gave her a woozy look, but didn’t answer.
“Do you have any medically trained staff here?” I asked Martha.
“Sally,” she said, turning around. “Sally Robertson. I’ll get her right away.”
“Get a stretcher!” I yelled as she hurried back to the building.
Jayden gave me a dazed look.
We had gathered an audience now.
It hadn’t taken long for the news to get around the school. Some of the staff and a handful of students had surrounded our car.
“Hey there.” I kneeled next to Jayden. “How are you?”
He pushed the blanket away and tried to sit up.
“Take it easy,” I said, putting a hand on his knee. “We’re getting a stretcher.”
“Don’t want one,” he said in a raspy voice as he struggled to sit up.
“You’ve just been in an accident,” I said, helping him up. He wasn’t going to listen, anyway. “You could have broken something.”
“I’m good,” he said, clutching my arm for support and pushing himself to an upright position. He sat quietly, holding on to me for a few seconds to settle himself, but I could see he was rustling up his strength, determined to get up and walk.
“Move aside!” came a loud voice.
It was Tom, the teacher who’d sat with Ruby for dinner. He was pushing through the crowd, carrying a stretcher. Sally Robertson was right behind him, a first-aid kit in her hand.
I stepped aside to let them move Jayden onto the stretcher and carry him inside, but he was having none of that.
Jayden stood up with their help. Then, leaning heavily on Tom, he half-dragged himself across the grounds, toward the building.
“Ambulance is on its way,” said Katy, elbowing her way through the throng of girls and coming toward us. “They’ll take an hour to get here though.”
We followed Jayden as he hobbled his way up the steps and to the school’s clinic on the first floor, his arms around Tom and Sally, who were carrying most of his weight.
We watched as Sally gave him a stronger dose of painkillers, strapped a neck brace on him and laid him out on a clinic bed. Jayden didn’t complain, but he was in bad shape.
Sally was a school psychologist, not a doctor. She may have had first-aid training, but Jayden needed more than that.
There was nothing for us to do now besides wait for the paramedics to arrive and take him to the hospital, and for Katy and me to give a statement to the police.
But there was something we needed to do before they came over.
Leaving Jayden in Sally’s care, Katy and I marched over to Martha’s office.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Martha’s usual gatekeeper wasn’t at his desk.
Katy and I stomped across the front bull pen where Nick normally sat, toward the office in the back.
Martha was seated behind her desk, her head in her hands. She looked up stunned, as we stepped up to her.
I wasn’t a fan of the principal. She could turn nasty on a dime, but her pale face and those eyes wide in shock told me she was as unsettled as we were.
“What in god’s name happened?” she said.
“Someone tried to kill Jayden,” I said, keeping my voice level and watching her carefully.
She opened her mouth to talk, but nothing came out. Then, as if she didn’t know what to do with herself, she got up, came to the front, and started pacing the room.
“Why? Why would anyone do that?”
“Your guess is as good as ours,” replied Katy, her arms crossed, an angry expression on her face. She hadn’t forgiven the principal for firing Jayden indiscriminately and ignoring her own students’ misdemeanors.
“How did it happen?” asked the principal.
“The truck was hidden on a side street and rammed him as soon as he drove by it,” I said. “Are you sure you haven’t seen a black tinted pick up here?”
Martha’s eyes flitted back and forth, like she was rifling through her memory banks.
“No,” she said, finally, shaking her head. “I know every vehicle that sits out on my parking lot. Never had a black pickup here.”
“I’m sure I’ve seen it before,” I said.
She stopped pacing and spun around.
“Where?”
“Behind our bakery in Harlem,” I said, keeping my eyes on her. I was looking for signs. A twitch on her face, a flush creeping up her neck, anything to tell me she was lying.
“The day Sally came to visit us,” I said. “We caught it watching my bakery from the back entrance. It took off the second my security staff came out.”
“My goodness.”
“Sally got nervous when we told her we saw that truck. She knew who it was, and it scared her.”
Martha turned to Katy, then back to me. “What’s going on here?”
“I think you have bigger problems in your hands than a runaway girl,” I replied.
The principal merely stared.
“One.” I pointed my index finger up. “A student goes missing. While everyone else thinks she ran away, I think there’s more to it. She’s also the daughter of your biggest donor.”
“Yes, but—”
“Two,” I continued. “Your gardener dies unexpectedly, within an hour of talking to us. From what we heard, he knew something or saw something, and he was probably killed for that.”
“Oh, my god.”
For once, Martha looked completely shocked.
“Three. The Phys Ed teacher you fired this morning nearly gets smashed by a pickup truck, one I saw the day Sally came to New York with your letter. If we hadn’t been there, I doubt Jayden would be alive right now.”
Martha’s face had turned white.
If this was all a pretense, she was an excellent actor.
“Are you saying all this is connected?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along,” Katy said, exasperation in her voice. “Can’t you see what’s going on right under your own nose?”
Katy stepped toward her.
“You put too much faith in some of your girls, do you know that?”
The principal stared, uncomprehending.
“You didn’t want to hear this before, but you need to hear it now,” I said, feeling my voice harden. “Last night, when we walked into the sports center with Jayden, we came across Isabella
and three girls, smoking weed and cigarettes. Plus, she had hard drugs in her handbag. Their reaction was enough to tell us what it was.”
Martha put a hand over her face.
“They weren’t too happy to get found out, but Jayden did the right thing. He told the girls to stop, hand over their contraband, and go straight to bed.”
The headmistress didn’t answer, but, for once, she was listening.
“What does this have to do with him getting into this accident?”
“Accident?” said Katy.
“This… this attempted murder…” trailed the principal, leaning against the desk as if to support herself.
“You said the police discovered opioid in the syringe that somehow got injected into Sam,” I said. “Putting aside whether he was murdered or not, we can say for sure someone is channeling drugs into this school. If we can find out who it is, we might find out how Sam really died, and who the killer is.”
Martha spread her hands out and tried to reply, but all she did was splutter.
“It could be the same person who tried to get rid of Jayden this morning,” I said. “Jayden may know something the killer doesn’t want exposed. Maybe something he saw last night.”
“A killer?” exploded Martha. “Drugs in my school? This is unbelievable. For goodness’ sake, who would do such things?”
“That’s what we want to find out,” I said, giving her a steely look. “If you’d stop impeding us.”
A momentary shadow crossed her face.
The real Martha May was back.
Even when she knew she was on the wrong, this woman hated to be corrected.
“This sounds like something out of a cheap pulp B-movie,” she blurted. “This can’t be happening in my school. Not here. Not now.”
“Perhaps it’s time to look truth in the face, Martha,” I said, knowing I’d only rile her further, but it was what she needed to hear. No one else in this school was going to tell her, which left Katy and me.
“This is preposterous,” she cried. “Don’t you think I’d know if someone was going around trying to eliminate my staff? Do you think I’d let that kind of activity ruin my school’s pristine reputation? I’d make them rot in jail. I’d kill them myself!”
I let her froth for a bit.
“Tell us about the town mayor,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Does he have a connection to the school?”
“The mayor? Why are you asking about the mayor? We have a crisis in this school and you’re off on another goose chase. For goodness’ sake, can you not focus!”
I exchanged a warning glance with Katy. We didn’t know the mayor’s connection with the principal yet. Maybe, I thought, it would be wiser to keep what we saw that night under wraps until we learned more.
“Going back to the runaway girl,” I said. “We’d like to speak with her family.”
The principal stared at me like I’d grown two heads.
“She’s close to an Aunt Becky and corresponds with her often,” I said. “Maybe the aunt knows something. Maybe Brianna dropped a hint—”
“Absolutely not!” shouted Martha. “You’re talking about Becky Madison.”
She glared at me like I was supposed to know who that was.
“It doesn’t matter if she’s the queen of England,” I said, trying to stay calm. “If you want us to find the girl, we’d like to explore all avenues.”
“If you even think of talking to Becky Madison, I’ll—”
“Martha,” I said, matching her glare. “We have a missing girl, a dead man, and an attempted murder. Whether you pay me or not, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
“Don’t you dare talk to Becky. She’s one of my primary donors. An alumna. She and Brianna’s father have supported umpteen projects in my school. I’m not having you even look at her. I swear if you do, I’ll—”
Martha May didn’t get to finish her threat.
A loud bang echoed across the school grounds making us all jump.
I leaped to my feet.
That was a gunshot.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Katy and I dashed out the door.
There was no one in the front office.
Where’s Nick?
“It came from outside,” said Katy.
“Let’s go!” I hollered as I ran to the corridor.
That’s when I spotted him.
At the far end, near the building entrance, was the old security guard. He was clutching the door with one hand, and his head with the other.
“This way!” I yelled, as I raced toward him with Katy and Martha at my heels.
“My goodness,” I gasped, stopping when I reached the guard.
He was fine, if not petrified in shock.
Twenty feet from him, halfway through the corridor that led to the school’s clinic, was Jayden.
Jayden lay on his back on the floor, his arms limp by his side.
We rushed toward him.
The garish bullet hole in the center of Jayden’s forehead was unmistakable.
All the blood drained from my face and my head spun.
“Oh, no,” cried Katy, falling to her knees. “Who did this?”
“Call nine-one-one!” I shouted at Martha.
I crouched beside Jayden and gently picked up his wrist, a strange sense of déjà vu coming over me. I tried to find his heartbeat, desperately probing him, like he’d done on Sam less than twenty-four hours ago.
But there was nothing.
I tried to find a pulse on his neck, but those empty, wide-open eyes staring at the ceiling told me everything.
Jayden was no longer with us.
Tears rolled down Katy’s cheeks.
We hadn’t known Jayden for long, but we’d both become fond of this good man who had only tried to do the right thing. After rescuing him from being rammed by that truck, I had felt a sense of responsibility for his life. But now he was dead.
I had failed.
“Who did this?” I said, looking up at the security guard who was leaning against the wall, staring at us mutely.
Martha was still standing nearby, her face white.
Did she call emergency?
“Speak, man,” said Martha to the guard. “What in good god’s name happened?”
The old man looked like he’d aged a hundred years more. His shock of white hair was askew, his face was pale, and he was shaking. He barely remained standing, one hand on his heart, the other clutching the door.
“I’ve no idea, ma’am,” he replied in a trembling voice. “I heard the…”
He put a shaking hand to his belt. That was when we noticed. His gun was no longer in his belt holster.
“Where’s your weapon?” I asked.
The guard looked at me, confusion in his cataract-covered eyes.
“I… I… have no…” He stopped and looked around him with even more confusion. “Someone took it. I… I thought I heard someone. But I didn’t. I swear I didn’t…”
He’d probably been asleep. I wanted to lash out at Martha May for giving a deadly weapon to a man who couldn’t even keep his eyes open. He didn’t look like he had enough energy to get the gun out of his holster, let alone pull the trigger and shoot.
Katy tugged at my arm.
“I see it,” she said.
She moved Jayden’s right leg aside. Tucked underneath his knee, where his right hand was resting, was the black firearm.
Martha’s face turned white as she spotted the weapon, horror overcoming her face.
“That’s your gun!” she shrieked.
I turned to the old guard and pointed at the sidearm. He squinted, but I doubted he could even see.
“Is this yours?”
“I really saw nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t know what happened…”
“But who would do this?” said Martha, her voice unusually high-pitched.
She seemed panic-stricken and genuinely grieved to see Jayden dead. At the same time, I
wondered how good of an actor she was.
The only thing I was sure about was she didn’t fire that shot. She’d been with Katy and me when we heard it.
“What’s going on?” came a female voice from the bottom of the corridor.
We all turned to see Sally Robertson step through a doorway at the end. She stopped as she spotted Jayden lying on the floor.
“What happened? I put him to sleep….”
She walked toward us, but halted when she got to ten feet from Jayden’s body. She had noticed the gunshot wound and the sidearm by his hand.
With a loud cry, she sank to the floor. I braced myself for a wail. Instead, she sat slumped, her face covered like she couldn’t bear to look at the dead man.
“Where were you just now, Sally?” I asked, as I watched her closely.
Silence.
“Sally?”
She pulled her hand away and stared at the body, her eyes wide in shock.
“Where were you right now?” I tried again.
She gave me a flustered look.
“I went to get bandages,” she said. “I’d run out. I used the last roll on him, so… I… I went to the storage room out in the back.”
“How come you didn’t hear the gunshot?”
“The door was closed. I heard something…. but I didn’t know…. I didn’t realize…. Oh, my god.”
She covered her face again.
“Asha.”
I turned around.
It was Katy.
“Check his other hand,” she said, pointing at his curled fist. “There’s something in his left hand.”
She was right.
I leaned over, and with a silent apology to Jayden, pried his fingers open. It wasn’t hard to do as the muscles were still relaxed. Rigor mortis would set in soon.
Behind me, I could hear Martha taking sharp, labored breaths. Sally was still sitting several feet away from the body, her face hidden in her hands, as if too frightened to look.
I pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from Jayden’s hand. I smoothened it out on the floor while Katy came over and crouched next to me.
We read it silently.
“My career is over. I’ve nothing to live for anymore.”
Katy gave me a startled look.
“A suicide note?”
I stared at the words, wishing I’d worn my gloves now. I looked over at Jayden’s lifeless body next to us, a rush of guilt overcoming me.
Merciless Crimes: A Thrilling Closed Circle Mystery Series (Merciless Murder Mystery Thriller) Page 12
