I Know What You Did

by N L Hinkens

  “You too. Thanks for listening and … understanding.” He raised his hand in parting before striding off down the corridor in the direction of his office to fetch his paperwork.

  Jo sank down at her desk and remained frozen in place until he returned moments later, waving again before exiting the building. She remained in her office for a full five minutes before making her way to the main entrance and peering around the parking lot. To her relief, Robbie’s car was nowhere in sight. She glanced at her phone. Five fifty-five. She waited just inside the glass doors, exhaling in relief when Liam’s car pulled up.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve been standing here all this time,” he said, when Jo depressed the crash bar on the door and let him in.

  “Robbie just left,” she blurted out.

  Liam threw her an alarmed look. “You should have texted me. I could have bumped into him.”

  “I didn’t know he was coming by. He showed up to pick up some tests to grade and then he left again.”

  “Are you sure he’s not coming back?”

  “As sure as I can be. I’ll keep an eye out in the corridor while you’re on his computer.”

  Liam gave an uncertain nod. “All right, let’s do this.”

  Jo led him through the deserted building to the science wing and unlocked the door to Robbie’s office. Liam strode over to the desk and set down his laptop case. He unzipped a small pouch on the side and pulled out a gadget that looked like a thumb drive.

  “What is that thing?” Jo called from the doorway.

  “Basically, it’s an input device,” Liam explained. “It contains software that trawls through the hard drive and collects anything suspicious, any sensitive files that Robbie has password protected, any search terms I direct it to look for in the browser history.” He sat down in front of the computer and powered it on before inserting the device. “I also installed some software on it to circumvent Robbie’s password. I don’t want to reset anything, or he’ll realize someone was messing with his computer.”

  Jo peered briefly down the corridor in both directions and then made her way over to the desk to watch what Liam was doing. “We’re safe, no one’s coming,” she reassured him when he shot her a nervous look.

  The computer booted up and Jo sucked in her breath at the beautiful black and white photo of Olivia that filled the screen. If it wasn’t for the fact that the photo had been taken in Robbie’s family room, it could have passed for Claire. Jo was only halfway convinced by Robbie’s assurances that he wouldn’t seek custody of Claire. If he really was a sociopath, there would be strings attached to his promise, an unspoken agreement that he was rewarding her for not turning him over to the authorities for having a sexual relationship with an underage student.

  A small black screen appeared in the top left corner of the computer monitor, rapidly filling up with text and code. Liam leaned back in his chair, grasping the arms as he watched the software he’d installed do its work.

  “Is it finding anything?” Jo asked. “I can’t tell what I’m looking at.”

  “I won’t know until I take it home and go through the files. This is only the collection process. I’m uploading everything it’s retrieving to my Google account.”

  “Can’t you take a peek at it here?” Jo persisted.

  Liam’s eyes traveled to the door. “Not worth the risk. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  A swishing sound signaled the software had done its job.

  “That’s it,” Liam said, sounding relieved. He ejected the device and powered down the computer before retrieving his laptop bag. “Let’s go before the janitor shows up.”

  They set the alarm and locked the school entrance doors before climbing into their respective cars and pulling out of the parking lot.

  Bethany had already put Claire to bed by the time they got home. “She was really tired, so I thought I’d just go ahead and bathe her and put her down for the night.”

  “Thanks for doing that.” Jo pulled out her phone to issue payment through her PayPal app. “See you Saturday as usual?”

  “Looking forward to it.” Bethany said.

  As soon as the front door closed behind her, Jo locked eyes with Liam. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  She followed him into the office and pulled up a chair next to him in front of the computer. Liam’s fingers flew over the keys as he entered his password and logged into his Google drive to view the files he’d retrieved. “What do you want to start with? Browser history or password-protected files?”

  Jo grimaced. “The files.”

  Liam opened up the screen and Jo quickly scanned the folders, dismissing most of them out of hand. “Exam results, chemistry tests to be administered—these are all school-related.” She read down through the list until she came to one titled Robbie’s Stuff. “Let’s see what this is all about. Probably school-related as well, but we might as well check.”

  Liam clicked on the file and waited for it to open. Inside, was a miscellaneous collection of JPEG’s, PDF’s, and documents. Liam randomly clicked on a JPEG and an image appeared on the screen—a meme of two kittens hugging each other. The caption read your face needs my kisses.

  “Cheesy but harmless,” Liam commented.

  “Depends on who Robbie was thinking of sending it to,” Jo responded, nauseated by the thought of Robbie carrying on like a schoolboy in an effort to seduce a seventeen-year-old. Although to hear him tell it, Mia had been the seductress. “Click on some of the others. Let’s see what else is here. Maybe there’s some photos of them together.”

  The rest of the JPEG’s proved to be nothing more funny, romantic memes, the kind of sappy images lovesick teenagers might send each other. A sad-looking dog resting his head on the couch next to a phone waiting for it to ring, two bananas hugging beneath a caption that read I love the Peeling.

  “I can’t imagine Robbie sending this kind of drivel to Sarah,” Jo said. “She was far too artistic and sophisticated to appreciate it. But they are the kind of images a teenage girl might appreciate.”

  “Maybe.” Liam sounded dubious. “But they aren’t exactly incriminating.”

  Jp pointed to the screen. “Let’s see what that PDF is all about.”

  Liam clicked on it and a poem appeared.

  Can’t get you out of my mind.

  The way you walk, the way you talk,

  The way you look at me and smile.

  Lay your honey on my lips

  With your passionate kiss.

  Forever I am yours and you are mine.

  “Robbie must have written it for Mia.” Jo pulled a face. “It’s pretty bad. He should stick to chemistry. Let’s check the rest of the stuff just in case.”

  They spent the next few minutes opening up and reading through more bad poetry, and corny love memes.

  “There’s nothing in here that has anything to do with Sarah or Noah,” Liam said. “We could go through his emails next, but I have a feeling it’s going to be more of the same. Do you want to review his browser history?”

  “What did you direct the program to retrieve?” Jo asked.

  “I gave it several different topics to search for. Suicide, carbon monoxide poisoning, love trysts, how to murder someone and get away with it.”

  Jo shot him a sharp look, her heart thundering in her chest. This was real. They were actually trying to find out if their friend had helped cover up a murder. They were investigating Robbie, illegally looking through his computer search history, questioning everything the police had accepted as fact. Were they mad? Her gut told her to keep digging. She wouldn’t give up until she had answers—it was how she was wired, how she went about everything in her life. “Pull it up and let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Liam tapped his fingers lightly over the keyboard and, a couple of minutes later, several URLs appeared on the screen. “These are the results for suicide.”

  Jo scanned through the URLs quickly dismissing each one. Holly Grove adole
scent treatment center didn’t mean anything. Robbie could have been looking up something to show the students. He often discussed drugs and the opioid crisis in his chemistry class. The next link was for theatre arts and lectures in Los Angeles. A bunch of different plays were listed and one of them had the word suicide in the title. The other links were even less relevant. “There’s nothing here,” Jo said. “Try carbon monoxide poisoning.”

  The only pertinent link that came up was a chemistry test—something about carbon monoxide and oxygen under pressure. Liam clicked on it and it opened up to reveal a standard test that was part of the high school curriculum.

  Discouraged, Jo asked, “What else have you got?”

  “How to murder someone and get away with it,” Liam said pulling up the search file history. “Here’s one, celebrity killers.”

  Jo batted at the air with her hand. “Probably some click bait title. We’ve all clicked on those before.”

  Liam tugged his fingers through his hair, stifling a yawn. “There’s nothing else here other than a news story about a pro football player charged with covering up a murder.”

  “Try your other search term,” Jo urged. “I forget what you said it was.”

  Liam scratched his head and then typed something on the keyboard. “Love trysts, I doubt it will bring up anything useful.”

  A single URL appeared on the screen, the most shocking moments of madmen season five.

  “Robbie used to watch that show religiously,” Jo said glumly. “Is that it?”

  “I ran a couple of other searches, but I don’t think they’re relevant—too generic. Hiding bodies, police investigation, that kind of thing.”

  “We’re here now, we might as well look. We can’t afford to miss something that could be important.”

  By the time they’d combed through every last search Liam had retrieved from Robbie’s hard drive, and gone through all his emails, it was well after midnight. Jo ran her fingers despairingly through her hair. They hadn’t come up with a single incriminating piece of evidence. Other than a file of sappy memes, Robbie’s computer was squeaky clean.

  That left only two possibilities in Jo’s mind, either Mia or Noah had murdered her friend. She wouldn't rest until she found out which of them it was.

  25

  The following Monday, Jo texted Lydia Tomaselli and asked if she could meet with her and her husband. She’d mentioned she had some art work belonging to Noah to give them, but that she also wanted to talk to them about something important. It was several hours before Lydia responded.

  Sérgio’s out of town but I can stop by your office after school.

  Jo immediately texted back and asked if she could meet Lydia at her house instead. She couldn’t risk Robbie or any of the other teachers seeing Noah’s mother at the school and asking awkward questions.

  Shortly before four, Jo pulled up outside the Tomaselli’s spacious residence, a modern farmhouse-style house painted white with a row of decorative dormer windows. She reached for the file folder containing the caricature of Noah and then slung her purse over her shoulder before climbing out of the car. Despite having talked with hundreds of parents over the years, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her. After all, she wasn’t here in her usual capacity as a counselor, a role she was good at and comfortable playing. She was here to dig around and find out from Noah’s bereaved mother if her son could possibly have been involved in Sarah’s murder.

  Jo rang the elaborate brass doorbell and stepped back to wait while a melodic chime announced her arrival. She eyed the steps leading up to the front door flanked by ornate footed pedestals overflowing with succulents and flowering plants. Jo wasn’t much of a gardener, but she appreciated the tasteful arrangements of vibrant color and greenery against the crisp white backdrop of the house. It certainly didn’t look like the kind of home in which children grew up to become cold-blooded killers. But looks could be deceptive. Someone had murdered Sarah, that she was increasingly sure of.

  The door opened and Lydia peered out, her eyes sunken as though her spirit had long since vacated them. She managed a wan smile as she stepped aside to usher Jo in. “It’s thoughtful of you to bring by Noah’s artwork,” she said, leading her through to the kitchen.

  “It’s not his artwork per se,” Jo hastened to explain. “It’s a caricature drawing of him that one of his classmates did. But it’s quite good and I thought you might appreciate having it.”

  Lydia gestured for Jo to take a seat at the table and then sat down next to her. “I cherish everything I can find that smells of him or looks like him or even reminds me of him in some way. It’s still so hard to make sense of what happened. And yet I feel like everyone expects me to accept it and move on.”

  Jo nodded sympathetically, her mind flitting to the box of tiny baby clothes and blankets at the back of her closet that were her only tangible link left to the children she’d lost. “You can never really move on. It doesn’t necessarily get better, you just learn to live with it being different.”

  Lydia sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one mourning. Sérgio won’t open up to me. It’s like he’s sealed his grief inside a time capsule. I’m afraid it’s going to explode one day.”

  “It’s not unusual for men to be angry and not want to talk about it when they lose a child. And Noah’s death was very traumatic.”

  Lydia tilted her head to one side. “Yes, it was. I think that’s always been the hardest part for Sérgio—accepting that our son committed suicide.”

  “Actually, Lydia, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  A perturbed frown formed on her forehead, but she waited for Jo to continue.

  “I wanted to ask you if you’d noticed anything strange about Noah’s behavior in the months leading up to his death.”

  Lydia clasped her hands on the table in front of her and thought for a moment. “I’ve asked myself that same question many times. I’d hate to think I missed the signs. But there’s nothing that comes to mind. He was always outgoing and social, a ray of sunshine in the house. He was very fond of Mia, of course, to a fault. He followed her lead a little more than we would have liked. She wasn’t always the best influence—the drinking, for example. I think her outburst in school the day he disappeared embarrassed him, but he didn’t believe it was over between them.”

  “What makes you think that?” Jo asked.

  “Well, Mia asked Noah to meet her the following evening. He thought she was going to apologize to him for accusing him of cheating.” Lydia shook her head. “That was the last we saw of him.”

  “Do you have any idea what they talked about? Did he text you or anything afterward?”

  Lydia looked uncomfortable. “No, I never heard from him again. Mia said she tried to smooth things out between them, but he was too drunk. Apparently, they’d been drinking vodka. Eventually, she got out of his car and drove away.”

  Jo nodded thoughtfully. It was pretty much what Mia had told the police at the time. “Did you have any idea that Noah and Sarah Gleeson were in a relationship? Were there any clues at all?”

  “None. I shudder at the thought. I knew he liked her as a teacher, but Noah wasn’t like that—” Her voice trailed off on a despairing note. “At least, I didn’t think he was. I’m more angry at Sarah Gleeson though. As his teacher, she betrayed his trust.”

  “That wasn’t the Sarah I knew. I was a good friend of hers.” Jo leaned forward in her seat. “Lydia, I realize this is hard, but do you think there’s any possibility Noah was stalking Sarah?”

  Lydia’s eyebrows shot upward. Her lashes fluttered as she blinked in confusion. “What? Of course not. And I resent you insinuating such a thing. If that’s why you’re here, then maybe you should go.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jo said gently, reaching for the file folder. “I’m genuinely searching for answers. I’m just as bewildered as you are as to why Sarah and Noah would have committed suicide. The truth is, I’m not convinced
they did.”

  Lydia’s pale lips parted in shock. “I … don’t understand. What do you mean? Are you saying you think someone killed them?”

  “All the evidence points to the contrary, but evidence can be planted. The suicide pact theory doesn’t fit with either of their personalities, especially not after listening to you describe Noah. It’s all wrong.”

  Lydia nodded absentmindedly, gazing at a spot in the far corner of the room. “That’s how my husband feels. He thinks it’s a little too convenient that Mia and Robbie fell in love while Noah and Sarah were supposedly carrying on behind their backs.”

  “I suppose it’s possible, but I’m not a big believer in coincidence—true coincidences are rare.” Jo flipped open the file folder and pulled out the caricature drawing of Noah. “I recognized his smile right away,” she said, sliding the sheet over to Lydia.

  Lydia picked it up and studied it, her eyes taking in every pencil stroke. She pressed a hand to her mouth, her eyes growing watery. “This captures so much about him, even though it’s only a caricature.” She smiled at Jo. “Thank you for bringing me this. It means a lot. I know you lost a friend too. If there’s anything you need to help you get to the truth, please let me know—funds or whatever. I don’t know what else to do. I mean, even the police are convinced it was suicide.”

  “There is one thing.” Jo held her gaze. “It might be worthwhile hiring a private investigator.”

  Lydia frowned. “What for?”

  Jo hesitated. She didn’t want to cast any aspersions on Robbie until she was sure he was covering something up. But she didn’t have the same qualms when it came to Mia. “I can’t explain it exactly, but there are things about Mia that don’t add up. I don’t trust her.”

  “Like what?” Lydia asked doubtfully.

  Jo hesitated, her breath coming in sharp jabs. “For one, she takes an anti-anxiety medication called Lorazepam. It's the same drug the autopsies detected. What if she had a hand in Sarah’s and Noah’s deaths? What if she drove them to it, threatened to expose them or something?”