A Little Learning

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A Little Learning Page 10

by Jane Tesh


  When the class was over, the students gathered their books and papers and lined up at the door. Several of them wanted me to sign their notebooks, so I borrowed a marker from Rachel and signed as many as I could before Norma Olsen arrived to take the classes back to their rooms. She was still beaming.

  “How’s everything working out for you?” I asked.

  “Couldn’t be better. This is a wonderful class, and we’ve had some good discussions about Mrs. Lever and what happened to her.”

  I couldn’t help but notice Ronald Brown roll his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “And we so appreciate you coming to talk with the class. I’m sure they had a wonderful time. Come along, boys and girls.”

  Rachel picked up the stray papers. “Thanks so much, Madeline. That was great.”

  “You’re welcome. How’s everything here today?”

  “Business as usual.” She rearranged the still life. “I have something to ask you, if I’m not being too forward.”

  She wants me to come back, I thought. Well, I enjoyed this. It might be nice to teach another class.

  “I’ve entered Bron and Mag in the Little Miss Rainbow Pageant in Parkland and I was wondering if you’d consider coaching them.”

  Good grief. “No, I’m sorry.”

  “Not even for a few minutes, just to show them how to walk? They deserve a little special treatment. They’ve been through a lot in their short lives, and I’m constantly amazed by how well they adapt to difficult situations.”

  I thought perhaps her daughters had health issues. “Difficult situations?”

  She pushed her hair back, dislodging the little ear cuff long enough for me to see a slight “V” shaped notch in her ear. It wasn’t something I would’ve been sensitive about, but then, I wasn’t as high-strung as Rachel Sigmon. Maybe I wasn’t being fair. I often found my looks to be a hindrance in my job.

  She rearranged the cuff. “Their father left me, and the divorce proceedings have been rough on all of us. He still sees them, but I’m the one who deals with everything. But being a single mom has its advantages, and the girls have been wonderful. You could at least meet them. Then I know you’d want to work with them.”

  “Rachel, I know you haven’t had an easy time, but every mother who puts her daughter in a pageant thinks her child is amazing.”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “If you had a child, you’d understand.”

  “You’re exactly right.”

  “I want you to meet them.”

  I couldn’t see any graceful way out of this. “I’m going to talk to Mrs. Dorman after school, and then maybe I’ll have time to meet them.”

  “Come by my house. Do you have my number? Just call and come by any time. Come this afternoon.”

  “All right,” I said. “But I’m not promising anything.”

  “Just meeting you will be a thrill, and maybe it will inspire them.”

  Just what I wanted to be, a shining example of queen-ness.

  ***

  After the students had been dismissed, I went to Mrs. Lever’s room. Mrs. Dorman was sitting in the empty classroom eating a cup of yogurt.

  “Mrs. Dorman?”

  She blinked like a turtle suddenly coming into a patch of sunlight. “Yes?”

  “May I ask you a few questions about Mrs. Lever?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Could you tell me what happened yesterday?”

  She sighed. “Amelia was her usual self. I do remember her asking me if I’d seen her cigarettes. Asking is too polite a word. She demanded to know where they were.” Mrs. Dorman stirred her yogurt. “I told her since I never touch the filthy things, I had no idea. She found them in her pocketbook, of course. She kept everything in these great big saddlebags—which reminds me. One of them is still in our storage closet. What should I do with it? I thought her sons would come get all her things.”

  “I’ll be glad to take it to them,” I said.

  “Thank you. I want it out of my sight. It reeks of tobacco.” She ate a spoonful of yogurt and then regarded me with her pale eyes. “It doesn’t do any good to speak ill of the dead, but Amelia Lever was not a kind woman, and I can’t pretend I liked her.” She gestured with her spoon. “It’s in that closet there.”

  I went to the closet and pulled out a large, heavy canvas bag. It bulged with papers. “Is this some of the kids’ work?”

  “Just leave those on a desk. I’ll take care of them.”

  I put the papers on the nearest desk. “Working with Norma Olsen must be a nice change for you, then.”

  “She’s all right. She talks to the students as if they were in kindergarten, though. And she’s always laughing and playing games. Too silly for me.”

  I imagined everything and everyone was too silly for Mrs. Dorman. I thanked her and took my treasure out to the car. I’d take it to the Lever boys, but first, I was going to have a look. Sure enough, the bag smelled like the inside of an old muffler. I found two packs of cigarettes and a lighter, several packages of Bufo cards she’d probably taken from students, a bottle of pills marked K-Dur, a tube of the dark violet lipstick, a date book, and a photograph of a small boy with a distinctive Buster Brown haircut. Had to be one of the boys. The name “Rusty” was printed on the back along with the year the photo was taken, almost thirty years ago. I looked through the date book. The last day of every month had a big red “R” written on it. “R” for Rusty? Maybe the Lever boys would know.

  But the most interesting thing I found was a piece of paper folded up in the back of the date book. It was a copy of Elijah Fenton’s riddle.

  ***

  Marshall and Kevin Lever were listed in the phone book. Their address was Country Dale Apartments, B and C. I didn’t find them there, so I drove to Amelia’s house, a large brick Colonial style home near the school. When I got out of the car, I heard lively country music playing. The Lever boys were mourning in their own peculiar fashion. I went up to the front door and rang the bell. The music stopped. I heard muffled voices. The door opened, and Marshall Lever looked out, a transformed Marshall Lever. Gone was the unflattering hairstyle. Marshall now sported a short razor-cut style that changed his face from sad hangdog to male model. Gone was the flannel shirt. He wore a crisp white shirt, gray slacks, and a gray silk tie.

  “Yes?”

  “Madeline Maclin. We spoke at the PTA meeting. I was asked to return some of your mother’s things.”

  “Oh,” he said. He turned and called over his shoulder. “It’s someone from the school, Kevin.”

  “Did she come for the textbooks?” Kevin called back.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Marshall Lever opened the door wider. “Please come in. Excuse the mess. We’re remodeling.”

  The house was dark and smelled of fresh paint. The rug was an ugly forest green. The furniture was standard, unappealing. Ugly landscapes decorated the paneled walls. Several cardboard boxes filled with clothes were piled on the sofa.

  Marshall indicated a stack of books on the coffee table. “We were just going through Mother’s things, and we found these books that belong to the school. The new teacher might need them.”

  “I’ll be glad to take them to her.”

  Kevin Lever came into the living room. His hair was also cut short. He had on paint-splattered overalls and sneakers.

  “Marshall, come see if this is going to need another coat.”

  I followed the brothers down a short hall to another room. Here, Kevin had painted the paneling light blue, and the dark carpet had been torn up to reveal a hardwood floor.

  “Quite an improvement,” I said.

  “We’d been trying to convince Mother we could make it look better,” Kevin said. “She never wanted us to change anything.”

  “We’re going to redo the whole house before the wedding,” Marshall said. “Kevin’s decided he’d like to live here. I’m buying a house closer to Parkland.”

  “Who gets the congratulatio
ns?”

  “We both do. We’re marrying Wanda and Shawna Bleeker next month. I’m sorry to say if Mother were alive, she’d never allow it.”

  The twins had to be in their forties, so this was puzzling. “Allow it?”

  Marshall sighed. “I know it seems crazy, but it was so much easier to go along with her than oppose her. She could be very aggressive.”

  “She didn’t want you to marry?”

  “Mother never liked the Bleeker family. She said they were gold diggers. Dad left us plenty of money, but not what you’d consider a fortune. I never understood why Mother thought the twins wanted to marry us for our money.”

  “And she controlled the money,” Kevin said. “Dad always did what she said. We wouldn’t get any of our inheritance unless we married the woman Mother chose.”

  “Of course we have money of our own,” Marshall said, “and we’d decided to give up our inheritance. We were even planning to elope, but now we can have the big church wedding the girls wanted.”

  “Eloping seemed our only choice,” Kevin said, “and then—well, if Mother had to go, this was a good time.”

  Marshall looked uncomfortable. “We’re not dancing around with glee, but we have to admit it’s a relief.”

  “I wish you all the best,” I said. I took out the photograph. “Oh, one other thing. This must be a picture of you.”

  Marshall shook his head. “That’s not me.”

  Kevin looked. “It’s not me, either.”

  “It says ‘Rusty’ on the back. Do you know who that is?”

  They glanced at each other, their identical expressions devoid of emotion.

  “Oh, yes. Rusty. One of Mother’s students.”

  “He’d be about your age. Did you know him?”

  “No. She’d have a favorite every now and then,” Kevin said. “Excuse me. I’ve got a lot of work to do. Another coat, Marshall?”

  Marshall nodded. “That should do it.”

  That should do it, all right, I thought as Kevin went down the hall.

  “Was there anything else, Ms. Maclin?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Let me help you with those books.”

  Since neither Lever brother seemed inclined to take the picture, I put it in my pocket. Amelia won’t need her date book, or that bottle of pills, either, I thought, so while Marshall carried the stack of textbook out to my car, I quickly rummaged in Amelia’s bag and took out the items I hoped would help solve this mystery—if there was a mystery, including her copy of the riddle. I took the Bufo cards, too.

  Marshall told me good-by and went back into the house. I took out my cell phone and called Nathan Fenton. He didn’t answer. It was almost five o’clock. I really didn’t want to Rachel’s house to meet Bron and Mag, but I didn’t have a good excuse not to go.

  I got into the Mazda, and as I was hooking my seat belt, my cell phone buzzed. Yay, I thought, when I saw the caller was Jerry. Here’s my excuse.

  “Mac, Georgia’s asked me to watch the store while she goes to Parkland. I’ll be locking up around eight, so go home and paint.”

  An even better excuse. “Great idea. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Bring pizza,” he said.

  ***

  To ease my conscience, I gave Rachel a call. “I’m sorry I can’t come by today. Can we reschedule?”

  Rachel’s voice sounded peeved. “Well, we were beginning to wonder.”

  “How about tomorrow?”

  “Bron has dance lessons, and Mag is going with some of her little friends to the Princess Spa. I’ll check their schedules and get back to you.”

  Well, they’d be so much happier going to the Princess Spa, I’m sure.

  At home, I took a closer look at the items from Amelia’s book bag. The riddle was the same as Nathan’s. From the way the paper was tightly folded and stuck at the back of her date book, I imagined Amelia, like Aaron Satterfield, had probably decided not to play along. The packs of Bufo cards hadn’t been opened. I looked through the date book, but other than the big “Rs,” the entries were the usual doctor and dentist appointments and a few reminders about school meetings.

  I went upstairs and decided to work on one of the landscapes. My work was going so well, I lost all track of time until my phone rang. This time Jerry’s voice sounded serious.

  “Mac, there’s been a little trouble at the store. You’d better come right over.”

  ***

  My heart did a huge flop when I saw the ambulance and police cars parked in front of the book store. I’m not sure how many people I knocked over to get inside. All around the check out counter looked as if it had been stirred by a very large stick. Jerry, rumpled and dusty, was talking with Nell’s father, Chief Brenner of the Celosia Police Department.

  My heart resumed its natural rhythm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Some nut decided to make a mess. Hit me from behind.”

  Chief Brenner opened his small notebook. “Did you see anything?”

  “I just caught a glimpse of him as he ran out,” Jerry said. “Blue jacket, baseball cap pulled down low. Looked like a teenager.”

  Brenner wrote this down and flipped the notebook closed. “Any idea what he was after? Can you tell what’s missing?”

  The floor in front of and behind the counter was a tossed salad of books, magazines, newspapers, candy, baseball cards, and gaming dice. Jerry’s eyes widened as he got a good look at the damage. “This is going to take a while.”

  “See if you can sort things out. I’ll have a look outside.”

  “Mind if I come along?” I asked. “I have a personal interest in this.”

  He nodded. “Come on.”

  I went with him. “No money was taken?”

  “The register was solid as a rock and full of cash. This kid must’ve been on something.” We met another officer coming up the sidewalk. “Whatcha got?”

  The officer held up an empty spinner rack. “Found this in the alley next to the hardware store. Doesn’t belong to them. And they say they saw a teenager boy run past not long ago. Blue jacket, baseball cap.”

  “Sounds like our thief.”

  I recognized the rack. “We can check with Jerry, but I’m pretty sure that’s the rack for Bufo cards.”

  Chief Brenner frowned. “Those frog cards? Well, now, that’s interesting. Let’s have a look in the alley.”

  It’s misleading to call the area between the hardware store and the drug store an alley because the narrow lane is paved and decorated with flowerbeds. Many people use the alley, so a search for footprints and other clues turned up nothing.

  We went back into Georgia’s, and Jerry agreed the rack belonged to the store.

  Chief Brenner took out his notepad again. “How many packs do you think you had, Jerry?”

  “Each section can hold ten packs. Over a hundred, I’d say.”

  “You sell that many packs of cards?”

  “Yes, it’s a big thing with the kids right now, and a lot of adults have been buying them, too.” He rubbed the back of his head.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” I said.

  “The paramedics checked. My head is secure.”

  Since Jerry nearly always hits his head, I don’t worry as much as I used to. Still, I really didn’t like the idea of someone attacking him in the store. “You’d think a book store would be safe.”

  “You see why I’m not bored?”

  “Is there any place he might try to sell the cards?” Brenner asked.

  “More than likely, he’ll look through the packs and throw away the cards he can’t use.”

  The chief put his pad away. “All right. We’ll check around and see if he ditched them anywhere. Anything else we need to know about these cards?”

  “The new cards have gold foil wrappers,” Jerry said. “The older sets have green.”

  After about an hour, Chief Brenner’s team finished their work, and Brenner said we could start put
ting the store back together. Jerry and I shelved the books and gathered up the magazines scattered on the floor. He called Georgia to tell her the news. He assured her we’d have things in order by the time she got back to Celosia.

  Fortunately, the mess wasn’t as bad as it looked. By nine o’clock, everything was back in place. Jerry ordered a pizza, and then locked the store. We sat down on the stools behind the counter.

  “So how was your day?” Jerry asked.

  “Not as exciting as yours. I talked with Mrs. Dorman and got a few clues from Amelia’s book bag. I talked with the Lever brothers. They’ve had a makeover and can’t wait to marry the women Amelia didn’t like.”

  “Not much of a mystery, then.”

  “I’m not sure. Amelia had a copy of the riddle in her bag, so Elijah thought enough of her to include her in his treasure hunt. And she had several packs of Bufo cards. First I thought she’d taken them from her students, tossed them in her bag, and forgot about them, but now, I wonder if there’s a connection to this theft.”

  “Maybe she had some sort of special card. Where are they?”

  “At home. We can check them out when—” I stopped. “Packs of Bufo cards. ‘Trust animals that live in packs.’ Is that what Elijah meant? When did they first come out?”

  “The first cards came out back in the spring, but they didn’t really catch on until later.”

  “So Elijah would have known about them. And if there’s a clue to the treasure in the cards—”

  “Then that’s why someone decided to steal all of them.”

  A knock on the door made us both jump.

 

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