Fallon.
* * *
ZACH DOESN’T HAVE to think twice about who died, or about who’s responsible. When he saw Crutcher at her building, he should’ve known better.
Well, he did know better. He saw Fallon and spoke to her, and she was fine.
But he should’ve done more. Stopped Crutcher. Talked to him. At least taken a picture of him walking into the building. Anything other than just watch.
That almost makes him feel complicit.
Fallon knew the truth. She always knew. Otherwise, Crutcher wouldn’t have done this.
Zach paces around the room with his phone, googling more information about her death. Not much else is out there. Carbon monoxide, an old water heater, a terrible accident.
Back on the TV, there’s a report about Belmont, the murders, the arrests, and the new headmaster. A picture of Crutcher appears, making Zach feel sick.
Crutcher’s going to get away with everything.
82
THE DAY IS cool and sunny, too beautiful for a funeral. But Teddy isn’t complaining. The last thing he wants to do is stand outside in gloomy, rainy weather.
There was no question he had to attend. Not only was Fallon a former Belmont student; she was an employee when she died. No. Passed away. People say “passed away” when the cause is anything but murder or suicide. And Fallon’s death was just a tragic accident.
Even the police said it was. For a minute, reporters had jumped on the fact that she was teaching at Belmont when the school had closed. But once the detectives saw the water heater, and the owner of the building came forward and said the rest of the heaters would be replaced, the case closed with a hard slam. Sometimes, people just die. The bobblehead reporter, Lissa, even said so. That makes it true.
The service is held right at the grave site. Fallon’s parents are here, surprisingly, since they clearly didn’t support their daughter financially. They’re right in front, dressed in expensive black clothing. Mom crying, dad somber. All very appropriate.
A number of other Belmont teachers are also attending, along with former students who knew Fallon. Teddy recognizes several, and all appear to be doing much better than Fallon was. Or at least their parents haven’t cut them off.
Frank is here as well, standing right next to Teddy. He’s a bit miffed by that; people might think he’s gone and found God or something. But it’s hard to tell a man in a clergy collar to get away at a funeral.
The man who leads the service also wears the white collar. He’s old and distinguished-looking, with a deep baritone voice to tell a lot of mistruths about Fallon.
“Fallon Meredith Knight, beloved daughter of David and Olivia Knight, was the kind of woman who tried to help wherever and whomever she could. Just recently, she returned to Belmont Academy and volunteered to step in for one of the recent poisoning victims. Her love for the school, and its students, was deep enough that she put aside her own goals in order to help.”
Teddy clears his throat. An unintentional reaction. After all, this man has no idea that Fallon’s death never would’ve happened if she hadn’t sent that final email.
And if she hadn’t lived on the first floor of a former motel, it wouldn’t have been so easy. Too easy, really. The motel was cheaply built, no maintenance, no updates, and cheap windows. Almost as easy to get into as Belmont.
Plus the old water heater. Just a tiny leak made it run constantly, causing the buildup of that deadly gas in her small apartment.
Everything had fallen into place, almost like it was meant to be.
Teddy had a backup plan, of course. Another poison, a product used to kill rodents. The kind one might find a lot of in a run-down building like that. Luckily, he didn’t need to use it.
All that’s left is right here, right next to her coffin. A few final words, a few tears, and then it’s over.
Not that he’s proud of it. He can’t be. Fallon was, above all else, a Belmont student. One of his students. Teddy had a responsibility to help her and, no matter how hard he tried, he failed. This is what weighs on him now, at her funeral. Thinking about it makes his stomach hurt a little, like the worms are starting to wake up.
He reminds himself that, as much as he wants to, he can’t save everyone. Some people just refuse to be saved.
Fallon’s father is speaking now. He’s the chief financial officer of a bank, and he looks the part.
“My daughter had a good soul. A pure soul. Perhaps too pure for this world.” He pauses, looks up at the sky. “I remember when she was about five, we were out in the garden and she saw her first ladybug. It was alone, wandering around on the grass, and Fallon wanted to help him find his friends . . .”
Teddy tunes out, glancing around at the crowd and trying to calculate the net worth of everyone in attendance. The total would keep Belmont going for the next hundred years. He makes a mental reminder to send out another donation letter.
This keeps him occupied until the coffin is finally lowered into the ground, and the first shovel of dirt is thrown on top of it. Teddy immediately goes to Fallon’s parents, offering his condolences.
“Your daughter was a lovely young woman, and such a tremendous asset to Belmont,” he says. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
As he shakes Mr. Knight’s hand, someone catches his attention. He turns to look.
Zach Ward.
He’s dressed in a dark grey suit, looking much older than his seventeen years. Freshly cut hair, shiny shoes. Sort of like his father.
He’s looking right at Teddy.
* * *
ZACH HAD A feeling Crutcher would show up. How could he not, being the headmaster and all.
Plus, he probably wants to gloat.
Zach stares at him until Crutcher has no choice but to walk over. But just as he’s about to say something, Frank Maxwell interrupts.
“How nice to see you, Zach. Though I’m sorry it’s under such tragic circumstances.”
Zach nods, shocked to see his math teacher for the first time since he left the school. Also shocked to see that white collar around his neck. “Hello, Mr. Maxwell. It’s nice to see you, too. I hope you’re doing well.”
“I am. Thank you so much.” He smiles, his face so calm and serene, it makes Zach wonder if he’s high. That would explain a lot. “I hope you’ll be coming to the Belmont memorial.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Zach says.
Mr. Maxwell nods and smiles and moves on, giving Crutcher a chance to move in.
“I didn’t realize you knew Fallon Knight,” he says.
“I did,” Zach says. He keeps his hands in his pockets so Crutcher won’t see them shake. That’s how nervous he is.
“Is that so?” Crutcher tilts his head up, appearing to think about this. “Well, it’s a terrible thing. Just terrible. And a good reminder for everyone to have a carbon monoxide detector.”
“My parents bought eight of them,” Zach says. “And a brand-new water heater.”
“Good for them. Better safe than sorry.”
“It’s funny, I was just telling Fallon that the other day,” Zach says, bringing the conversation back to the point. “Her apartment wasn’t really in a good area.”
Crutcher looks surprised. “Oh my, you two really were close.”
“She helped me out with my homeschooling.”
“Did she now?”
Zach nods. Under his suit, his heart thumps against his chest so hard, he wonders if it’s visible. Crutcher’s a dangerous man. Deadly. In the safe confines of Zach’s home, talking to Crutcher seemed like a good idea. Now he isn’t sure. This shouldn’t be his problem, and he shouldn’t have to solve it.
But if he doesn’t, then who will? No one left but him.
“I saw you there,” he says to Crutcher. Voice low, blank expression.
“You saw me wh
ere?”
“At Fallon’s building.”
Crutcher looks at him like the idea is preposterous. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
“I was there the day before she died. We were meeting to go over an assignment I have.” The lie comes out smooth, just like the truth. “When I drove up, I saw you walking out of her building. You went straight to your car. The one you drove to Belmont every day.”
“I have visited with all the faculty members since the school closed,” Crutcher says, waving away Zach’s words with his hand. “You can check.”
“But you just said you weren’t there,” Zach says. “Now you say you were.”
Crutcher stares at him the way he used to in class: with a whole lot of contempt. It used to confuse Zach, to make him want Crutcher to like him. Not anymore.
Crutcher’s mouth morphs into a smile, a shift so sudden, it takes Zach by surprise. “We’re all very upset today, Zach. You’ll have to forgive me for speaking in error.”
“Which part?” Zach says.
“I don’t understand.”
“Which part was wrong? Were you there or not?”
Crutcher is still smiling, but his eyes aren’t. Something changes in them. It’s a look Zach hasn’t seen before, and it’s terrifying.
“Good to see you, Zach.” He starts to walk away.
Zach braces himself.
He’s got nothing but a theory. No evidence, no proof, no nothing. But Fallon might. Maybe on her computer, which no one is looking at because her death was ruled accidental. Maybe someone should look at it.
“One more thing,” he calls out to Crutcher, walking toward him.
Crutcher looks angry, but he nods. “Go ahead.”
“The milk,” he says. “You drank the milk at school, didn’t you?”
“Yes. What of it?”
“Just weird, since you only drink milk out of glass bottles.”
Crutcher clenches his jaw, his skin rippling all the way up to his eyes. His hands clench into fists. For a second, Zach thinks Crutcher is going to punch him.
Zach isn’t scared. Because now he knows for sure.
“Goodbye, Zach,” he says. Crutcher turns and walks away, toward the parking lot. Away from the funeral and away from Zach.
Zach watches until he can’t see Crutcher anymore.
Shut up and smile.
Not this time.
He takes out his phone and punches in the number he has memorized.
“Hi. This is Zach Ward,” he says. “Do you remember me?”
“Yes, of course I do,” Pruitt says. The FBI agent has a good memory.
“I want to give you some information. Can I come in and talk to you?”
83
GLORIOUS. SIMPLY GLORIOUS.
It’s been two weeks since Ms. Marsha and Joe were arrested. The shock has passed, and now the healing can begin.
Teddy stands at the top of the stairs, just outside the entrance to Belmont. In front of him, the crowd is beginning to swell. Parents, students, media . . . Everyone is here. Everyone.
Behind him, a banner is strung from wall to wall:
Remembrance & Recovery
Belmont Forever
The podium is set up here, in front of the chairs for the clergy members.
And the rock. Finally, the memorial rock can be unveiled. Because of the weight, it’s already in place, albeit covered in a red velvet throw with gold tassels. Winnie took care of that. She’s good at decorating—Teddy will give her that. The flowers are stunning: blue asters and huge golden sunflowers, chosen for the school’s colors. They’re mounted in stone planters, providing a floral walkway from the parking lot to the front of the school.
Because the ceremony is expected to take the whole morning, they have to serve food and drinks. No small thing, considering what happened at the school. Teddy and his team spent hours trying to decide what to serve, where it should come from, and if people would feel comfortable eating, or even drinking coffee, at the event.
The Calisto Catering van is right next to the seating area, visible to all. It’s the caterer of choice for those who can afford it. Every wedding, every charity event, every corporate golf outing is catered by Calisto. If people won’t eat their food, they won’t eat anything.
Already Teddy can see they are eating and drinking. Thank God. It cost a fortune.
Winnie appears at his side, with Daphne right behind her. Together, the two of them have taken over Ms. Marsha’s duties. For now, it works. By fall, he’ll have a new assistant.
With a clipboard in her hand, Winnie rattles off a list of updates. “All the speakers have checked in. The mayor called and said he’ll be arriving about five minutes before the program starts. But we have to set up a few more rows of chairs, because”—she looks out into the crowd—“I don’t think we’ll have enough.”
Teddy glances up. He’s been staring down at his cuticles, which look awful. Ever since Fallon’s funeral, he’s been biting them again.
“Hello, Teddy.”
Frank. He’s looking at Teddy with that same weird smile.
“Frank, good to see you.”
“You look well,” Frank says, glancing around. “Where’s Allison? I’d love to say hello.”
Teddy restrains himself from looking as irritated as he feels. “She’s trying to get away from work but may not make it. Hospitals do need their nurses.”
“Allison must be very busy these days. Missy said she hasn’t talked to her in a while.”
“Yes, she’s been busy.” Teddy turns away from Frank and back to Winnie. “We definitely need more chairs,” he says. He walks away, down the three steps to the seating area.
“Twenty minutes!” Winnie calls.
He doesn’t turn around. A group of parents stand near the front row, and Teddy stops to greet them. Press the flesh. Smile and nod and hope they contribute a lot. Before Ms. Marsha’s unfortunate arrest, she’d explained that this was a big part of his job. Public relations. “You have to be the face of the school,” she said.
Here he is, doing just that, working the room.
If he were still a teacher, he wouldn’t have to do any of this. As Teacher of the Year, he would be reviewing his speech. And if he hadn’t been named Teacher of the Year, he would be having a snack or showing up a few minutes before it started.
Such is the life of a headmaster.
It’s not what he’d expected. Still, it’s better than being a teacher who was never considered part of the Belmont family.
The worst part is dealing with the families of the victims. They’re all seated in the front row, to the right of the center aisle. Together, they are a sea of black clothing drenched in the smell of death. If Teddy had known this, he would have told Winnie to seat them farther back.
First, he must greet them. He begins with his predecessor’s wife. Before her husband died, she was a stern, no-nonsense woman. Now, she appears almost weak, with a stooped posture and a veil covering her face. She only nods when Teddy expresses his condolences.
Next, Dr. Benjamin. Sonia’s husband wears a grey suit, and his hair is longer than a typical professional’s cut. Professors can get away with that. He’s also much bigger than he was the last time Teddy saw him, and that was at Sonia’s memorial. Perhaps grief makes him hungry.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Teddy says, shaking his hand. “I realize this is of small comfort, but we will do our best to honor your wife in a way that you find fitting.”
“I appreciate that,” he says.
On the upside, at least Sonia never had children. Teddy hates dealing with small children.
The last of the mourners is Courtney and her father. Teddy steels himself to be gracious and humble, because there’s still a chance Courtney will return to Belmont in the fall. Her father can aff
ord it.
“Mr. Ross,” he says. “It’s nice to see you again, though obviously not under these circumstances.”
“Of course.”
“And I can’t tell you how happy I am that the FBI stepped in and cleared up the awful misunderstanding with you,” Teddy says to Courtney.
She nods, tries to smile a little. “Thank you.”
Teddy sees someone behind Courtney, who must be sitting with them.
Zach Ward. That little shit.
“Hi, Mr. Crutcher,” Zach says.
“Thank you so much for coming,” Teddy says. “Especially since you’re no longer a Belmont student.”
Zach doesn’t blink. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Teddy turns away from him and back to Mr. Ross. “Please, let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Thank you again.” Mr. Ross nods at Teddy, who walks back up the steps to the podium. No one is going to ruin this day. Not even Zach.
It’s time to start the show.
84
WHEN CRUTCHER IS gone, Zach turns his head to look around.
The FBI is coming today.
When he met with Agents Pruitt and Roland, they listened to him. They asked questions—a lot of them. Just like before, Pruitt did most of the asking. Zach told them about the milk, about the plant book, and about Fallon. “She knew something. Maybe there’s information on her computer. I’m not sure. I didn’t get a chance to find out before she died. But please, check.”
“Of course we’re going to check this out,” Pruitt said.
“And the memorial is coming up. It’s a big event, and he’s the headmaster now, and . . . I don’t know if he plans to kill anyone else, but it would be a perfect time. A lot of people will be there,” Zach said. “For all I know, he wants to kill me.”
Pruitt reached out to him, not touching his hand but almost. “Are you afraid for your life?”
He shrugged her off, even though he was kind of scared. Just a little. “I won’t eat or drink anything at the memorial, that’s for sure.”
For Your Own Good Page 28