by Jack Parker
They all strained forward for a better view.
"Amy, isn't that yours?" asked Gracie.
Amy stood up to take a closer look. "So that's where I lost it," she said. "I went outside to get a little air. Can I have it back or is it evidence now?" Her voice turned uncertain as she asked the question.
Ken handed her the bag. "It only proves you were at the party and I already knew that," he told her. As she sat down he said, "I'll want to talk to you each separately, so you can carry on with your work until it's your turn. Thank you for your time, and of course if you happen to remember anything you think might be significant, please let me know. Mrs. Baker's got my number if you need to get in touch with me. I'd like to start with you, young man." He pointed at Bobby.
Bobby looked startled and blurted out, "But I wasn't at the party."
The girls supported him with comments like, "He's right" and "No, he wasn't".
"All right then. Is there anyone else who didn't attend?" Ken asked.
No one answered so Ken looked at Amy. "Okay, the young lady with the lost earring. We'll just step into the hall; Mrs. Baker will stand here in the doorway so she can keep watch on us. She won't be able to hear anything you might say, but if you feel the least bit uncomfortable please feel free to signal her so she can stop the interview. Let me stress that no one here is under suspicion of anything; I just want to ask questions about Mrs. Lane in the hope that I can find out what happened."
Amy looked around nervously, not liking being the center of attention.
"Go on and get it over with," Madison urged. "We'll all get our turn."
Amy followed Ken into the corridor and the rest of them went back to work, but in a desultory fashion. The news had shocked them and none of them really knew what to think, much less say. Besides, with the principal standing guard at the door ushering people in and out they didn't want to risk saying anything that might get anyone in trouble. Then there was the plain fact that none of them had any idea who might have wanted to hurt – much less kill – the teacher. Although none of them had much liked Mrs. Lane this hit far closer to home than hearing about her death on the news. Mrs. Baker tried to make small talk, but her efforts fell flat.
When it was Gracie's turn she walked into the hall and greeted Ken warmly. "We have to stop meeting like this," she quipped. Then, more somberly, "Ken, this is horrible. And before you ask, I have no idea what might've happened."
"I don't know that it wasn't just an accident," he replied. "The girls all say she'd been drinking; she could've just fallen down the stairs. There were no obvious wounds on the body, no blood; that tile floor is hard, a fall could easily have killed her. Gracie, I'm sorry! Here I am talking like a cop, and this is personal to you."
"No problem," she told him. "In case no one had the guts to tell you, we didn't like her very much. I had her last year; she assigns a boat-load of reading, and her tests are tough. She ignores the girls and flirts with the boys."
"Especially the ones on the football team," Ken added.
Gracie shrugged. "So do those girls in there! She just seemed preoccupied with herself. But I honestly don't know anyone who might hate her. But I do know – uh, suspect, I don't know for sure – that there was more than soda in the team's cups. I don't have any idea whether she offered it to them or just let them take it. She could get fired for that, someone might've threatened her with telling."
"Hmm, that could be motive. No one else mentioned that little detail. By the way, that red-headed girl, Allison I think; she seemed evasive about something."
"Probably that she had vodka in her water bottle," Gracie chuckled. "I just learned about it last night; apparently every one else knew. I'm pretty sure she helped herself to some at the party, but she left before I did and Mrs. Lane was too busy to notice."
"No wonder she didn't want to admit that!" Ken said. "I guess you didn't see anything you thought was odd, or you'd have told me. The party was pretty much inside, right?"
"A few people did go out in the backyard," she said. She was thinking of Jake and Meaghan, but knew that Ken was looking for confirmation that she'd have seen anything important.
"Yeah, that one girl lost her earring under one of the bushes. It's the wire kind, um…"
"A fish-hook," Gracie supplied. "Easy to get it snagged on a branch and she'd never realize it was gone."
"Well, thanks, Gracie," Ken said. "You want me to keep you in the loop on this one?"
"Sure," Gracie replied. "Though I don't know that I'll be any help with it. I'll pay more attention to the gossip but I doubt I'll hear anything."
It was Ken's turn to chuckle. "They know we're friends and they won't talk to you, is that it?"
"Pretty much," Gracie replied.
CHAPTER 31
Monday morning at school the topic of the teacher's death was on everyone's lips. Everyone had their own pet theory from drunken fall to lovers' quarrel to jealous catfight to burglar; it was all anyone talked about. Many people named a suspect, but even those who subscribed to the same hypothesis couldn't agree on one name. As Kelly and Gracie walked to their second hour class that's all they'd heard.
"I know I promised Ken I'd listen to the gossip," she told Kelly. "But I am already so sick of it."
"I know what you mean," he replied. "You'd think if anything or anyone stood out they'd have noticed by now." They'd reached the end of the hallway. "This is where we go different directions; see you at lunch?"
"You bet!" Gracie replied, turning to her left at the intersection.
Kelly turned right, headed for the stairs at the end of the hall. Up ahead he could see Jake and Shaun in earnest conversation. He reasoned that if anyone had a clue what had happened to Maggie it might be Jake; just because he'd flirted with her didn't mean he'd done anything else, but just maybe his early departure from the party was designed to mask the fact that he'd come back later. Kelly sped up so he could walk behind them and eavesdrop.
"Why didn't he tell her who he was?" Jake was asking.
"Because he thought she knew," Shaun replied. "He was sure she'd figured it out and was expecting him."
This sounds interesting, Kelly thought.
"I can never figure that stuff out," Jake said, shaking his head at his own denseness. "The part I liked best is when the robot blew up!"
"I told you it was an awesome movie!" Shaun said. He intended to punch Jake's arm to emphasize his point, but Jake had stopped at the foot of the stairs and his fist hit Jake's hand instead.
Jake lost his grip on the bottle of water he carried and dropped it; water poured out before he could retrieve it. "Hey! Watch it, will ya?"
"Sorry," Shaun said, but not as if he really meant it.
Kelly moved past them and started up the stairs, laughing at how sinister the conversation had sounded at first and hoping he wasn't late for class.
Gracie got to the class room and settled down, getting her book ready. Of course everyone there was talking about the death too and she spent a couple of minutes trying to debunk the burglar theory. "If it was a burglar, why didn't he take anything?"
"Because he didn't expect her to be up at that hour," Cody explained. "After he pushed her down the stairs he got scared and ran away."
"Wouldn't he have seen the lights on and gone to another house?" she asked.
"Maybe she'd already turned 'em off and was going to bed," he replied reasonably. "He probably thought he'd just knocked her out and didn't bother hanging around to find out."
"If she'd turned the lights off why hadn't she locked the patio door? Oh, never mind! She'd been drinking; she probably didn't even think about it," Gracie conceded.
The bell rang and the teacher began trying to get their attention. "Settle down, please. I know this has been a terrible tragedy, but we need to put it aside for now and think about math for the moment. Let's start by passing your assignment forward."
Students opened books and backpacks, creating a white noise of thumps, zipper
s, and the rustle of papers. Amy slipped into the room and began looking for her homework.
"There was a line in the bathroom," she commented quietly to those near her. "Did I miss anything?"
"Only that Gracie doesn't think it was a burglar that killed Mrs. Lane," Cody responded.
"Why would a burglar kill her?" Amy wanted to know.
"Because she surprised him," he told her.
"Did he steal anything?" Amy asked.
"No, he ran away after that," he said.
"That doesn't make any sense!" she insisted.
"That's what I said," Gracie put in.
"Class!" the teacher said loudly. "Please, let's stop talking about this. The police are investigating and they will let us all know as soon as they solve it. I want to know what happened just as badly as you do, but we'll all have to wait. Now, please turn to page 79 and let's get started."
About half-way through the class an office aide knocked on the door. The kids watched avidly, though quietly, as their teacher answered. Interruptions didn't happen often and when they did it was a subject of much curiosity. Before anyone had a chance to think of someone likely to be in trouble the teacher turned back around.
"Gracie, you have a visitor in the office," she said, beckoning.
Whispers flew as Gracie packed up her books and walked out of the room. But she had a pretty good idea who'd asked for her; it had to be Ken. This was the first chance he would've had to talk to all of the people who'd been at Mrs. Lane's party Friday night. He'd spoken to the recycling group Saturday morning and had said he'd talk to the football team at practice later that afternoon, but no doubt he'd want a list of everyone who'd been there and it didn't surprise her that he'd ask her first.
"It's a policeman," the aide volunteered when the classroom door had shut. "It's about Mrs. Lane, isn't it?"
"I'm sure it is," Gracie agreed, though she volunteered nothing.
"I'm really glad I didn't go to that party!" the other girl said. "I thought about it, I was going to go, but then Cindy got sick and I had to take her home and then, well, it was late and I was tired so I just went on home."
"Nothing happened at the party," Gracie assured her. "He just wants to hear that from everyone else."
They opened the door to the principal's office and went in. The secretary was talking on the phone and held up her index finger to indicate she'd be with them in a moment. Gracie, who rarely had reason to be in the office, looked around. She always associated this place with her brother Justin, who had spent a great deal of time here. Justin had been a rebel, always getting into some kind of trouble; but he'd done it because he'd wanted their father's attention. Dad's death last year had shocked him and made him realize what he'd been doing. Justin had straightened up and was going to art school now.
Lost in her thoughts, Gracie found herself staring at another student who was sitting in a chair in the corner and cradling one arm with the other. "Travis, are you okay?"
"Think my arm's broken," he replied. As he spoke he lifted the arm for emphasis and then winced. "I'm waiting for Mother to come get me and take me to the hospital."
Gracie looked a little closer. Travis Nichols was considered the school nerd complete with short dark hair and black glasses, though there was no white tape holding broken pieces together. He always wore cotton slacks and shirts, as opposed to the more common jeans and T-shirts; yet instead of looking neat his clothes were always wrinkled and the shirt usually partly un-tucked. Typically he was shy and appeared clumsy because he tried too hard to do things right.
She smiled at him in sympathy. "What happened?"
Travis shrugged, and winced again. "I was in a hurry and slipped on some water at the bottom of the stairs. I'm always bumping into things, you'd think I'd be used to it; but I think my arm flew out and hit the edge of the stairs. It really hurts."
"I'm sorry, Travis," she said. "Were you late to class? Is that why you were in a hurry?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I was running an errand for Mrs. Baker. I'm Office Aide this hour," he said proudly.
"Guess it's a good thing you didn't hurt your leg, or you couldn't have gotten back here. I'd hate to think of you lying out in the hall all hour."
Travis twitched his head to his right. "I could've yelled, it was just right outside by the south stairway."
Gracie heard the secretary end the call. "I hope your mother gets here soon, and you feel better. See ya later." She turned to give her attention to the secretary.
"Lieutenant Freeman is in the vice-principal's office. I gather you're acquainted with him," the woman told her.
"Yes, thanks," Gracie said. She took this as an invitation to open the door and go in.
"Hello, Gracie," Ken said with a smile. "Have a seat. I'm sure you know why I'm here today."
"Hi, Ken! You want me to tell you who all was at the party so you can talk to them. Let me just get out a piece of paper and I'll get started." She ripped a page out of her notebook and began writing.
Ken laughed quietly. "You know me too well. I don't really think I'll learn anything new, but gotta cover all the bases just in case."
Gracie was mumbling to herself as she wrote, trying to remember who she'd seen there on Friday night. "I don't know if I can remember everybody, but this should be a good start."
"That's fine, Gracie," Ken told her. "I, uh, know this sounds prejudiced, but try to remember as many of the un-popular kids as you can. They often will say things the in-crowd wouldn't."
Gracie laughed a little sarcastically. "Because they're not worried about getting their friends in trouble."
"Exactly. They'll talk about a fight between a couple, or two girls, and say who flirted with whom. Not that I think any of that is probably relevant, unless it involved Mrs. Lane."
Gracie looked up from her list. "I know we told you how she flirted with the guys on the team, but there was one thing that was really obvious."
"Something Mrs. Lane did?" Ken asked.
"Yeah," Gracie agreed. "She'd gotten queso on her finger and Jake made a big point of licking it off. He made quite a suggestive scene about it."
"Do you know if he was drinking? Loosened inhibitions and teenage hormones might account for that kind of behavior."
"No, I don't know for sure, though I suspect so," she replied. "We all thought it was disgusting."
"You think there was anything more to it than putting on a show?" Ken asked alertly.
"I wouldn't put it past him," she said. "Jake's a player; he takes out a different girl every night. And before you ask, I have no idea whether he's sleeping with any of them. Probably, but I'd hate to name names because I might be wrong. I'd probably be surprised to know who's putting out and who's not."
It was Ken's turn to chuckle. "It was the same in my day, Kiddo. The ones that talk about it are usually just trying to impress their friends; it's the quiet ones you have to watch out for. It never made any sense to me that girls will keep chasing a guy who plays the field. Did any of Jake's girlfriends seem particularly upset over that little display?"
"Not any more than the rest of us. Allison was pretty ticked off, but that was because he brought her to the party and then left without her."
"Did he take another girl home?" Ken asked.
"Nah, he left with a couple of his teammates." Gracie frowned in concentration for a moment before saying, "I can't remember who. But if you're thinking he got ideas from Mrs. Lane's flirting and came back later it wouldn't make any difference; he could ditch his buddies as easily as Allison."
"And probably wouldn't tell them his plans, either," Ken mused. "It's interesting because the ME said Mrs. Lane had had sex recently and he did find skin under her nails."
"Which could just as easily come from fighting off an attacker," Gracie remarked.
"Yes, it could," Ken agreed. "No bruising or other indications she put up a fight, though. We'll have the DNA checked, of course, but it takes time. Oh, and she'd definitely been dri
nking that night. Blood-alcohol level of .12"
"Wow, that's pretty high isn't it?"
".08 is legal intoxication," he replied. "Of course we don't know how much she drank during the party and she could've continued after it was over."
"Doesn't alcohol evaporate or something?" Gracie asked. "How do they figure out how much she'd drunk?"
"The word is 'metabolize', but it's more complicated than that," Ken said. "The body itself produces alcohol as it decays, so they can't just test the blood."
"Stomach contents?" Gracie suggested, trying not to think about it in too much detail.
"Worse than that!" Ken said. "They use the vitreous humour; that's eyeball fluid."
"Ewww!" Gracie said, making a disgusted face. "I think I'm sorry I asked! But I guess they know what they're doing and at that level it wouldn't make a whole lot of difference if they were off a point or two."
"That's true," Ken agreed. "But it would take time to get to that level so she'd probably been drinking pretty steadily. Steadily enough that it would've been easy for her to lose her balance and fall down those steps. The question is, was she pretending to run from a prospective lover or avoid an attacker – or did she just take a bad step and fall all on her own?"
"Yeah, I see the problem. Though you'd think a lover would've shut the patio door."
"Not if he was scared," Ken said. "The same would apply to an attacker; either might've just wanted to get the heck outta Dodge and not bother shutting the door behind them. Her neighbor said she saw a 'light-colored' car parked on the street in the wee hours of the morning, but that description doesn't give us much to go on. Could've even been someone had left it there and come back for it later."
"My Prius is light blue," she said. "I guess that could count as light-colored. But we were in Kelly's car and it's dark blue. That's so vague there's not much point in trying to figure out who all drives a light car; but I'll let you know if I hear about anyone coming back for a car early in the morning." Gracie looked thoughtful. "You said it was parked in front of Mrs. Lane's house?"