by Kathy Krevat
Horace must have sensed something because he put his hand on my arm to keep me beside him.
Joss took a step back, pulled on Gemma’s arms and said something like, “What the hell are you doing?” She’d made sure his back was to us and so far, he hadn’t seen us.
She still clung to him like a limpet for a moment before letting go. Then she covered her face with her hands and her shoulders heaved. She tried to move closer for him to hold her, and instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders with his elbows locked to keep her as far away from him as possible.
“Show’s over folks,” Horace said.
* * * *
“You did what?” Lani demanded when I told her the story.
“I walked with Horace back to his porch and went home,” I said, feeling proud of myself.
“Did you see her drive away at least?” she asked. “She had to pass by your house to get out of there, right?”
“Oh yes,” I said. “I took a cup of coffee out to the front porch, and when she drove by, I raised it to her.”
“Ooh,” she said. “Like ‘screw you’ or like ‘you’re a worthy adversary’?”
I laughed. “Probably a combination of both.”
“Are you going to tell Joss you saw the whole thing?” She sounded delighted with how things turned out.
“No!” I said.
“Hmm,” she said. “I bet he tells you.”
I hoped Joss would, but he hadn’t contacted me at all by the time we left for the Sunday matinee performance of The Lion King. Elliott was sad that it was the last performance, but the drama club teacher sponsor had encouraged them to think about ideas for their spring show.
“Maybe they can do Hairpray in the spring,” my dad suggested. “Didn’t you push for that one?”
“I don’t know,” Elliott said. “Not as many kids were as excited about it as I was.”
“Well, one of those reasons was because Lani designed the costumes for The Lion King,” I said. “Why don’t you see what she can do for that musical?”
“Hmm,” he said, thinking for a bit. “Or,” he drew out the word, “we can think about another musical where Lani can go wild.”
“Like what?”
“What about The Little Mermaid?” he said, getting excited. “Can you imagine what Lani would do with that?” He pulled out his phone.
“Are you texting Lani?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Sasha.” He frowned at me. “Don’t. Say. Anything.”
My dad was very careful to look out his window to hide his grin.
* * * *
As usual, the last show was over far too quickly. I wished I could bottle up all of that innocent fun on stage, especially the way it made me feel. My dad wasn’t interested in staying for the cast party, so he got a ride home.
Some of the actors cried at the party, already missing their brief but intense time together.
Elliott and Sasha sat together the whole time. I thought I saw them holding hands, but when I tried to slide over to get a better angle, Tuesday the puppet inspector was in my way.
“Elliott did a remarkable job,” she said.
“Thank you.” I tried to keep my eyes on her face, but they kept drifting over to the potential lovebirds near the piano.
She peered at me over her glasses. “Do you think he’d be interested in getting additional training? We have puppetry classes at the guild starting soon.”
That surprised me. “I don’t know,” I said. “He probably doesn’t know they exist.”
“Is it okay if I invite him to take the classes?” she asked. “I like to get parents’ permission before I ask.”
“Of course,” I said.
Elliott and Sasha moved apart when Tuesday approached.
Shoot. Now I couldn’t see anything. Elliott smiled when they spoke, but I couldn’t tell if he was humoring her or genuinely interested in puppetry classes.
I wondered what my dad would think of that. He’d just recently embraced the whole musical theater hobby of Elliott’s once he figured out that it was okay that his grandson had no interest in playing football. Puppetry might be a step too far.
* * * *
Elliott was quiet on the way home, but he kept smiling when he looked out the window.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t take the suspense anymore and went for it. “So,” I drew out the word, “it seems as if she likes you likes you.”
A grin spread on his face. “I think so.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Anything you want to add?”
“No, Mom,” he said. “It’s private.”
Really? I’d get more out of him later. “What do you think about taking puppetry classes?” I asked.
He shrugged. “They seem like fun, but they’re downtown on Saturdays during the farmers’ market.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe I’ll try one?” he said. “But I don’t know. I liked it but it’s not the kind of theater I want to do.”
My dad had brought more Pico’s burritos home and we heated them up for a quick dinner. Afterward, Elliott went up to his room to finish his homework. His junior theater performances always messed with his school schedule but he usually had understanding teachers who let him make up his work.
I wasn’t entirely surprised to answer the door and see Joss on the porch, looking agitated. “I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to be upset.” His hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it.
“Okay,” I said. I joined him outside and closed the door behind us.
Trouble jumped up on her windowsill perch, watching intently. You better watch it, mister.
“You were right.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. “Gemma said she wants me back. That she wants us to be a family again.”
I held my breath.
“I told her there wasn’t a chance in hell,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “You don’t look happy about that.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Really. But I’m worried that she’ll do something to retaliate. Like challenge Kai’s custody again.”
Oh man. I hadn’t thought about what she could do to mess with their lives. “You have an agreement,” I said. “You’d just have to take her to court. And Kai’s old enough now that the judge would take her feelings into account, right?”
“Right,” he said. “Logically, I know that’s all true. But I can’t trust her because of what she pulled this summer.”
“It’ll be okay,” I said.
“But I came over here for another reason,” he said. “I know it’s just about the worst possible timing, but I have to get it out.”
He grabbed both of my hands. My heart started pounding at the look in his eyes. “Okay.”
My phone rang from my back pocket.
No! I could’ve screamed.
Joss looked as frustrated as I felt.
“Ignore it,” I said, wanting to throw it far away. “I’ll turn it off.” I fumbled with it to send the call to voice mail and we both saw that it was Norma calling. “Shoot.”
“Go ahead and take it,” he said. “This can wait.”
“Hi, Norma,” I said, striving to sound calm.
“I have some bad news,” she said.
“What?” A slew of possible bad news scenarios went through my brain.
“We found Opal Volker,” she said.
I could tell it from her voice. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Chapter 19
Joss never did tell me what he had to “get out.” I guess talking about dead bodies puts the kibosh on any other conversation.
Norma h
ad spared me most of the horrible details about Opal’s death but what she did tell me was awful. Her body had been found in the middle of El Monte Park, a county park of hiking trails through mountains and valleys, east of Sunnyside. The only reason she was discovered was because someone saw a coyote with clothing in its mouth and tracked him back to Opal.
I stopped Norma from saying any more at that point.
Opal had never been on vacation. She’d been dead since Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning. The coroner wasn’t yet able to narrow it down more than that.
A part of me had suspected the worst ever since I heard she’d taken an emergency vacation but having it confirmed was awful. Now Norma was investigating who had access to her email and could’ve written the message that she was leaving town.
“You need to be careful,” she said. “We have no suspects. We tracked down Ian Luther but he’s not talking. I’m going to flash a few photos of her body to get him to open up.”
Norma didn’t pull any punches when she had two homicides to solve.
* * * *
Quincy and I were in place outside Red’s house when the same process server showed up to give Red the results of his DNA test. He was waxing his car and greeted the server with a grin. Since his hands were dirty from the wax, he told him to put the envelope in his mouth.
“Gross,” I said.
The server left in a hurry, which was a very smart thing to do.
Red wiped his hands on the rag sticking out of his back pocket, and opened the envelope. He read the results, and even from a distance, we could see his face turning red and then purple with rage.
Quincy zoomed in the video camera to catch Red screaming at the sky like a wild beast. He ripped up the papers, grasping at the pieces with two hands, and throwing them away from him. Then he picked up a tool from the ground and held it like a baseball bat.
Some part of his brain must have kicked in, because instead of going after his car, he threw the tool as far as he could down the street.
He stood still for a few minutes, his shoulders heaving and I got the impression of the Hulk trying to fight back against his anger. Then he stomped over to the door, slamming it so hard he broke off a piece of the frame.
Quincy shook his head and shut off the video. “That man’s an animal. We have to keep him away from Zoey.”
* * * *
I was early to my standing lunch with Tod, but he let me in anyway, his fascination with his latest puzzle—Benson’s murder investigation—overriding his anxiety.
We sat down and started eating our Vietnamese sandwiches.
“Do you think this fixer really exists?” he asked after drinking half of his can of Coke in a few gulps. “I couldn’t find anything about him online. Even on the dark web.”
“Tod, please don’t go on the dark web,” I said. To me, it was like a horror film character running into the zombie infested forest.
“I know what I’m doing,” he said. “Does Norma think Opal’s death is connected to Benson’s?”
“Well, they dated and possibly worked for the same person. Maybe they took money to do unethical things for students applying to college. But we don’t have any idea why they were killed.”
“It could be that they knew something the fixer doesn’t want to get out,” Tod said. “If he’s real.”
“Okay, that’s a big ‘if.’ But let’s just say he’s out there. What does he hope to gain by getting rid of them? It’s just bringing more attention to him,” I said. “Now everyone’s talking about a college ‘fixer.’”
“Well, really, that’s because of you,” Tod said.
I went cold. He was right.
* * * *
The Osetra Seafood Restaurant glowed with an indigo blue light coming from the bar. It gave the whole restaurant a cool vibe and I felt like I was walking into a night club before it was packed with the kind of people who go to night clubs. Not that I knew anyone like that.
The host directed me to an upstairs area that had been set aside for the networking group, and I gave my name to a young woman standing at a podium handing out name tags.
A man about my age in a sports jacket over a button-down white shirt and crisp khakis came over to meet me. “Hi, I’m Clayton. You must be Colbie.”
“How’d you know?” I asked, with my nice to meet you smile.
“You’re the only newbie this month, so it was easy to figure out.”
We both gave a fake laugh.
“It’s so great that you started this group.” I gestured around to all of the people holding drinks and chatting.
“Thank you,” he said. “It just made sense to me since this industry changes so much.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked. “How so?” As soon as it left my mouth, I realized it was the wrong thing to say. Anyone who took the time to attend this meeting should know that.
He tilted his head, and I rushed to cover for my flub. “I’m thinking of changing careers and someone recommended I start here.”
He nodded. “Good idea.”
Whew. I saved it.
He explained. “Every year it becomes harder to get into colleges, so every year our job becomes more challenging. You’re staying for the speaker, right? Learning all you can about the SAT is one of the basics you’ll need to make a go at this career.” He sounded like an introduction to an infomercial.
“Thanks for including me,” I said. “I definitely have a lot to learn.”
He guided me to a small group and I explained again the fake reason I was there. A woman said, “Don’t do it! Save yourself!” and they all laughed.
I was forced to respond to questions about why I was interested in moving into this field, but the group realized pretty quickly that I didn’t have a clue about the industry and was of no use to them. They resumed their conversation about the difficulty of finding paid internships for high school students.
As soon as I could, I made my way to the bar and grabbed a glass of white wine so I could study the room. Clayton moved easily from group to group. He knew everybody. He just might be the key.
Soon, we gathered in one corner to listen to a speaker. Since a whiteboard wouldn’t work in this setting, he’d printed out sample SAT tests and explained in far too much detail what the most recent changes were.
When it was finally over, I stayed behind to help Clayton, but besides handouts and name tags, there wasn’t much to clean up. Time was up so I went for it. “Someone mentioned that there’s a local college fixer helping students get into colleges they’re not qualified for. Do you know anything about that?”
He turned toward me with a stunned look on his face. “What? Who said that?”
“I met so many people that I can’t remember,” I said. “I probably have to get better at remembering names.” I laughed and started alphabetizing some name tags, pretending that my question wasn’t all that important. “Anyway, he said that wealthy people will pay anything to anyone to get their kids into a great college, even a ‘fixer.’” I made finger quote signs.
“That’s impossible.” He waved his hand as if pushing away the idea.
“Oh,” I said. “That doesn’t make sense. He said the guy was like Ray Donovan, you know, that TV show. I thought since you’re so well-connected that you had to know him. Or about him at least.”
“I’ve heard rumors, but that’s it,” he said.
More rumors. I felt a tingle on my neck.
“You should forget about him and focus on learning how to help the students,” he said, trying to change the subject.
“Really? He exists?” I didn’t have to pretend to be interested. “I knew you knew everyone. What have you heard?”
Just like I hoped, he responded to the approval. “That he operates some kind of unofficial network of people who can help smooth the way to college.”
>
“How can he do that?” I asked.
“He gets high level business people and teachers to give glowing recommendations,” he said. “I heard he can even get grades changed, but that’s crazy.”
“Hmm,” I asked. “Does he work with music teachers?
He shrugged. “He might.” Then he put the pieces together in his head. “No, wait. Are you a police officer?” He took a step one direction and then back. “Damn it. Ignore everything I said. I don’t know anything.”
“Clayton, calm down,” I said. “I’m not a police officer. I’m helping out a friend and trying to learn what I can about this guy.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, getting himself under control. “Wait. You came here to talk about this?”
I didn’t bothering answering that. “Just help me out for one minute,” I said. “You know everyone, right? And I saw you work the room tonight. You are freaking incredible at connecting people. Connect the dots for me. What is this guy after? If he does exist, and it sounds like that part’s true, then maybe he knew Benson Tadworth. I understand that it’s a big if. The other big if is that if he knew Benson, what possible reason could he have to kill him? This is all hypothetical, because we don’t even know if he’s really out there.”
“Oh man.” He shook his head, but the appeal of the mystery pulled at him. “If it’s true, then he must have a serious network connecting very different people for different reasons. He has to know someone at all of the schools. Plus technical people who can clean up social media and other sites. Local business leaders.” He paused. “I don’t know how he could manage something that big without people becoming aware of what he was doing.”
“How do you think I could find this guy?” I asked, even though the thought made my heart pound.
He thought for a moment and then said, “I have a feeling he’s the kind who finds you.”
* * * *
Clayton had very little else to add, but the whole concept was beginning to take shape. Norma just had to figure out who else worked with this fixer, someone who was still alive, and use him or her to track the boss down.