“Custodians mostly. A few stragglers. Buck Weekly is in his office still.”
“But the main office staff?”
“Gone home,” Jess confirmed. She went first down the hallway, peering around each corner before smuggling Jil along the hall to her office.
Once they closed the door, Jil breathed a sigh of relief. “First, tell me about Bex.”
“Right. She’s at the hospital now with Rosie McMonahan. Rosie promised to stay with her until her social worker got there, or until she was released. But they’re going to provide her a counselor in hospital who will follow her afterward.”
“Do you know where she’s going?”
“Not back here, that’s for damn sure,” Jess said. “The poor kid wants a placement as far away from here as possible.” Her forehead creased and she looked to be fighting back tears. “I just can’t believe any of our students could behave so horribly. Gang-raping a girl? Bullying kids into suicide? What the hell kind of environment is this?”
“One that’s been festering for a long time.”
“Right under my nose.”
Jil shook her head. “They played you. Picked a young, inexperienced principal—”
“Who was distracted by her own life,” Jess finished. “Green and relying on her mentors. God. I made it so easy. I let them run that residence program, because that’s what the principal before me did. I let student council take an active role because I believed our own press about St. Marguerite’s having the brightest and the best students. Blinded by our trophies and our headlines.”
“But there’s one thing you’re forgetting,” Jil said gently.
“What?”
“DiTullio. He knew you’d put a stop to this.”
Jess shook her head. “Small consolation.”
Jil’s phone buzzed. A text from Padraig. All clear outside.
Jil felt better knowing that Padraig was surveilling the perimeter, but the knot in her stomach would not release until she’d found what she was looking for and vacated.
She put her hand in her pocket again. Morgan, her ever-reliable friend. She could hardly count how many scrapes he’d gotten her out of, and now that he was into cyber forensics, his knowledge apparently knew no bounds. Theoretical knowledge of course. Because there were some lines no good officer would cross.
Jess slipped out the door and crossed the main office to the doors there, which she locked. On her way back, she hit the light panel.
Jil followed her to the office next door and over to Mark Genovese’s desk. She peered out the window and caught a glimpse of Padraig’s darkened SUV across the road.
She pulled herself up to the desk and flipped on the computer. A popup box prompted her to enter a code. She looked to Jess, who typed in the code that was supposed to override access to any school computer.
A loud ding echoed through the room. Jil punched the sound down with her thumb. “It didn’t work.”
Jess shook her head.
“Morgan, it’s me,” Jil spoke into her phone. “That theoretical computer is encrypted.”
“Okay, here’s what I might try,” Morgan said.
Jil followed his instructions, and in a moment, the popup box flashed, and they were in.
“Thanks.”
Morgan’s low chuckle reverberated in her ear. “I’d say ‘anytime,’ but I’m afraid of the phone calls I’d get.”
After they’d hung up, Jil connected the small device in her pocket to the computer, and began scanning. Every few clicks, she needed to override the system, and as the minutes ticked by and Jess fidgeted behind her, the knot in her stomach tightened.
Her phone buzzed. Padraig. Black Panther on the prowl.
Her stomach lurched. “Jess, Genovese is outside.”
“What?” She moved to the door and peered out. “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know. Did you say Buck’s still here?”
She turned around. “Yeah. Do you think that’s important?”
Jil shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. I have a feeling the answer might be locked in this computer.”
“Okay, if Mark comes this way, I’ll head him off. How long do you need?”
“Five minutes. I have to log into his FaithConnects account and get the final piece of this puzzle.”
Jess slipped out the office door, and a moment later, Jil heard the main door clink open.
Silence followed as she clicked the keys, searching for the one thing she was sure she would find.
“Bingo.” The hairs on her arms stood up as she saw GunSlinger’s face flash up on the screen. She scanned through the conversations from last fall—between him and Alyssa. “Wow,” she breathed, not quite able to believe what she was reading.
On a hunch, she clicked on the “Linked Accounts” tab at the top. Clarisse’s picture popped up. So, Mark was both GunSlinger and Clarisse.
From down the hall, she heard faint voices. She knew she didn’t have much time. As quickly as she could, she uploaded the data to the device, streaming it directly to her computer at home. She waited for the green light to flash.
The main office door clinked open. Jil felt bile rise in her throat. She pulled the device out and gently closed the lid on the computer. No time to shut it down.
Footsteps sounded outside, but they didn’t come right for the door, as she’d feared. Instead, she heard drawers gently easing open and closed in the main office.
Then Jess’s voice rose. “Looking for something to hawk?”
A drawer banged shut.
“Uh…what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Marcel’s voice sounded panicked.
“The St. Marguerite’s magpie,” said Jess. “I think I just caught him.”
“I was just…cleaning.”
“Brian is assigned to this office, not you.”
“Well, Brian’s slow. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to clean up his areas.” Some of the cocky bravado had returned to his voice.
“Save it,” said Jess. “Just leave your things and go home.”
“But—”
“Now! I have enough to deal with at this school without thieves on top of it all.”
Jil heard the main door open and was about to creep out of her hiding place behind the door, when she heard Mark Genovese’s voice. “What’s going on?”
She froze.
“I caught the magpie,” said Jess clearly. “Do me a favor, Mark, and follow him out. Make sure he doesn’t take anything valuable with him. And check his locker. See if he’s kept anything in there.”
“I was just going to grab something from my office.” Jil held her breath. “But I’ll get it on my way out.”
“Okay. I’ll leave the main doors open for you. I’m leaving now, just as soon as I file a report about this incident.”
The main doors clinked again, and Jil counted to ten before coming out of hiding.
Just then, Jess opened the door. “In my office, quickly.”
“Just a second.” She crept back to the computer and shut it down properly. Mark could never know she’d been in there. In Jess’s large room, she hid against the side door.
“What did you get?”
“I’ll have to download it all at home, and read everything again, but I think we got him.”
“Really?” Jess’s tone was bleak.
“I know.”
“Part of me was just hoping…”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m actually afraid to be alone here. Isn’t that ridiculous? I never thought I’d say that about my own school. So many secrets, lies…”
Jil looked around, making sure again that the blinds were all drawn. “Padraig’s right outside. We’ll leave together.”
“I actually do have to file this report.”
“Okay then. I’m just going to take a trip down the hall and talk to Buck.”
“Right now?” Jess’s voice rose.
“Can you think of a better time? I can’t
exactly waltz in while school’s in session.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “One incident with damage control wasn’t enough?”
Jil grinned. “Sorry. I’ll meet you by the car.” She peeked into the atrium and saw no one, so she dashed across the empty space and down the hall.
Once at Buck’s office, she entered without knocking and closed the door firmly behind her.
He looked up, startled. “Ms. Kinness.”
“Hi.” She quickly switched on the dim desk light and hit the panel for the bright overhead halogens before yanking the blinds closed. From the hallway, the office would look dark. Nobody home.
For a second, she had a fleeting feeling of dread—that she’d just locked herself in a dark cage with a man whose history she still found dubious—but she’d started now and couldn’t quit.
“What are you doing here?” Buck asked.
“I’ve come to talk to you.”
“Why now?”
“Because you have valuable information, and I need it.”
Buck leaned forward in his chair, seeming to sense her urgency, because he kept his sentences short and his voice low. “You shouldn’t be here. People will start to figure out you’re not a teacher.”
“How many people know that already?”
Buck frowned. “Jess didn’t say much after you left. I’ve been citing the party line.”
“What is it?”
“That you had to have emergency surgery and wouldn’t be back this term.”
Jil snorted. “A lobotomy, more like.” She stopped abruptly, wondering if she had just put her foot in her mouth. Had Buck ever had a lobotomy?
He stared at her. Not a good time to ask. “What do you need from me?”
Jil sighed. “How long did you know I wasn’t a teacher? From the beginning?”
Buck ran his fingers over his chin. “DiTullio thought you might get into a little trouble.”
Jil smiled ruefully. “I did, of course. Teaching religion in a Catholic school. Sorry for being so difficult.”
“Well, likewise. But I was tasked with looking after you, and I guess I made an ass of myself.”
“Sitting in on my class, wanting my report cards….”
“I was trying to prevent Jessica and everyone else from finding out about you. The students are a lot smarter than you’d give them credit for.”
“Well, thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t make it easy for you. But tell me something else.”
“What?”
“DiTullio admitted to sending me in here to find out about the SoA.”
Buck sat back like he’d been smacked. “What?” he choked.
“I know this was a setup. I know I wasn’t here to investigate uncatholic conduct.”
Buck leaned heavily on the desk. “I didn’t know. My God.”
“I know you tried to protect me from them as well.”
His face took on a haggard look. “He told me you were here to look into contracts. That this was the best way to protect our teachers and students—by making sure they toed the line. He didn’t say anything about exposing the…”
Jil gave him a moment to collect himself. “I need to know how long this organization has been here. Who’s involved?” she said quietly.
Buck sighed—a hollow sound. “DiTullio?” His voice sounded strangled.
“Yes.”
“Why? Why now?”
Jil said nothing. “The SoA. You’ve known about it for years. Why keep their secret?”
“What else could I do? I’m just a bumbling old man who’s lucky to hold on to his job. The one who’s been to the loony bin twice. Now I start talking about secret societies and conspiracy theories? They’d lock me up forever. I have no proof.”
“No proof and a VP who’s in on the whole thing.”
Buck glanced at the door, alarm sketched on his face. “You be careful who you’re talking to,” he muttered. “Mark Genovese is someone you want to keep tabs on at all times. Don’t trust him.”
“Why?”
“Just…he’s dangerous.”
“Is that why you’ve stayed here all these years? To keep an eye on him—on the school?”
“It’s all I can do,” Buck said helplessly. “Try to keep the kids on the straight and narrow. Lend a hand to the Residence program. Those kids are always a target because they’re such easy access. Try to reach any of them before the SoA gets to them. It’s difficult when you never know who they are, and who they’re going to target.”
“But people have still died,” Jil whispered.
“Alyssa,” choked Buck. “I didn’t see it in time. I was too busy with Holly Barnes and her mental breakdown to notice what was going on.” He clamped his mouth shut. “That was meant to be a secret.”
“It’s okay,” Jil said. “I already knew.”
Buck nodded. “She was going through a divorce. She’d started seeing someone new after finding out her husband had cheated on her for the past decade of their marriage. And then she started getting notes. People followed her home from work. Eggs were smashed on her door. She was in a car accident. I can’t say whether it was related, but she decided to take time off. She told everyone she was injured, but some found out it was stress leave. I told her to blame me. Tell someone in confidence that I was hard to work with. I know it’s partly true anyway.”
Jil pursed her lips. At least he admitted it. “You were here back when those boys died. Tell me what happened.”
Buck lowered his head til his chin almost reached his chest. “I couldn’t prove anything,” he muttered. “They shut me out. Wouldn’t talk. I don’t know what happened.”
“Who shut you out? Your brother? DiTullio? Genovese?”
Buck put his face in his hands. His fingers trembled in the dim light. He reached for the handle of his top drawer and opened it, gazing at a bottle of pills for a moment before popping one.
Something clicked in Jil’s brain. “Your brother, Charleston.”
Buck’s face blanched ever whiter.
“Mark told me he was in a car accident. You were young then.”
“Thirty years ago. Seems like several lifetimes,” Buck confessed.
“Why was he targeted? What happened?”
Buck rocked forward in his chair, his breath labored. “He couldn’t live with what had happened. Had nightmares, like I did, but didn’t ever…you know…”
“He wasn’t hospitalized?”
“No. He went traveling instead. Did foreign aid and taught at missionary schools. He never could put it behind him, though, and eventually, he came to me and said he planned to confess and expose the Sons of Adam.”
“Confess what?”
But Buck didn’t hear her. “He asked me to help him. I told him I’d have to think about it. Next day, he was dead.”
“In the car accident.”
Buck took in several breaths. “The police said he didn’t even try to stop. There were no skid marks. He just plowed right into that tree like he had no brakes.”
Jil swallowed hard. Another “accident.”
“Buck, what couldn’t he live with? What did he need to confess?”
Buck banged his fists on the desk. “I can’t betray my brother. I know he only meant to harass them. Not that it’s an excuse. He was there when those boys died, but he was no killer. Their deaths couldn’t have been his fault, but he still felt responsible.”
“What about DiTullio?”
“No,” Buck said. “I know they both saw something. But neither of those boys were capable of murder.”
“Neither of those two…”
Buck looked into her eyes, and she saw his haunted look.
“But Mark was?” she finished.
He looked at her but didn’t say anything.
“Buck, how do you know Charleston was there?”
“That day, I saw the group of them heading up to the loft of the old gym. I figured they were smoking up or something, so I followed. When I walked into the
lower gym, Tommy was hanging dead. I was paralyzed. I didn’t know what to do. Then I saw that Edward was still…putting up a fight. I…I held him up and screamed for help. Charleston…Charleston came running down from the loft above the gym and cut him down. We called the ambulance. It was too late. He died anyway.”
“You found the boys?”
“Yes. Charleston and I.”
Jil nodded. “So that’s why you’re…”
“Disturbed?” he growled.
“Affected,” she said gently.
“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “I can’t talk about this anymore. You should go. I won’t mention you’ve been here.”
Jil watched him a moment longer. There was so much more she wanted to ask him, but he already looked like he might be due for a third stint. She pulled back. “You’re going home now?”
“My wife will be wondering where I am.”
“I’m sorry I had to bring it all up.”
With seeming effort, he met her eyes. “I understand why. But I can’t say any more.”
Jil got up and peeked out the blinds into the dark, empty hall. “Is that side door unlocked?” she asked, looking down the hall to where the Exit sign glowed red.
“There’s a door behind my desk,” Buck said. “It leads to the parking lot. Better take that.”
Ten seconds later, she sprinted across the parking lot to the street and climbed into her car, where Jess was already waiting. Four places behind them, Padraig started his engine. They watched him blink his lights to say good-bye, and then Jil spun the car around and headed for home.
*
“Did you get that?” Jil spoke into her phone. She had just viewed the contents of Genovese’s computer and streamed it to Padraig.
“Sure did,” he said. “But it’s still circumstantial. Buck’s memories are hearsay at best. It’s not enough to get him on any of the other murders.”
“I have a plan.”
“Does it involve calling Morgan in the morning?”
Jil sighed. “Sure does.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Five thirty on a Monday morning, Jess threw the covers off her bare leg and snaked her arms back under her pillow to bury her face. “I don’t want to go to work today,” she mumbled.
Jil kissed her gently on the temple. “You have to. You’re my spy inside.”
UnCatholic Conduct Page 28