Wolfe in Shepherd's Clothing

by David Gane

  “Sounds like he was infatuated,” I say.

  “That’s an understatement,” Haley snorts.

  “He still coming around?” Charlie wants to know.

  She shakes her head. “Haven’t seen him in months.”

  “Did she ever call the cops?” I ask.

  Haley shrugs. “I don’t know. By that point she and I hated each other, so she wouldn’t have told me anyway.”

  “He have a name?”

  “Not that we ever heard. She was pretty secretive about him.”

  Charlie’s thought of something else. “Do you think he was ever around when Mike showed up?”

  “Maybe. Like I said, after a while, we never knew when he was watching. We just started to assume that he was always around somewhere.”

  Shit, Mike, did you get in the way of some psycho stalker?

  chapter 97

  Charlie and I find Mom and Dad’s table and dig into our sandwiches. I don’t know about Charlie, but I’m having a hard time carrying on a discussion with my folks while my brain spins through our conversation with Haley. Who’s the mystery guy? Is he the reason Mike died?

  We drive back home and spend the afternoon doing chores. Dad has us spring cleaning the garage, reorganizing his junk, dragging stuff to the curb for donation, and sweeping the floor. Just when we think we’re done, Mom sends us down to the basement to tidy up the storage room.

  “Your parents are taskmasters,” Charlie says, hauling a box onto a top shelf.

  “Welcome to my world.”

  “So,” he says, “that Autumn, hey?”

  “Yup.”

  “What a piece of work.”

  “That’s one way to describe her.”

  “She lied to us. Let’s send Gekas after her.”

  Much as I’d love to, I have to say, “There’s so many reasons why we can’t.”

  He sighs. “I know. But it’d be fun.”

  True. Though I have to add, “I’m pretty sure she didn’t kill Mike.”

  “No, but that honour might go to her stalker,” he says.

  Sounds like we’ve both been trying to figure out who he is. “I don’t know anyone who could tell us anything more about him. It seems like Autumn pisses off everyone who knows her.”

  “Who’d she hang around with at your school?”

  “I have no clue. I kind of remember seeing her at parties, but she always seemed to be floating between guys.”

  “Considering her M.O., that doesn’t surprise me. She was also probably scrapping with other girls at school.”

  Good point. And it gives me an idea. “Maybe we should ask a teacher.”

  “Who you thinking?”

  Besides my coach, there’s only one I know well enough to talk to: Statten.

  chapter 98

  Charlie and I play games most of Saturday night. Sunday is pretty low key, except for Elaina coming over to hang out in the afternoon. They invite me to watch movies with them, but I decline. I’m not interested in being a third wheel, and besides, I can use the time to do some biology homework. Mr. Hall’s a lot better than Harriet was, but he still wants the lab experiments written up on time.

  I know the presence of a girl in the house makes Mom happy, but I also know she’d much rather have someone coming by to visit me. It’s been a year and a half since I lost Sheri and everyone’s told me it’s time to start moving on.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t noticing girls, but none of them have come close to what I felt for Sheri. I worry sometimes I’m remembering the past in picture-perfect terms—who knows? Maybe I am—but until I’m ready to move on, I’m happy to wait until the right person comes along.

  chapter 99

  Monday rolls around, and Charlie and I are anxious to get to school, but Dad’s running slow.

  “What’s the rush, boys?” he asks.

  “I’m hoping to work on my documentary about Louis Riel, Mr. S.,” Charlie says.

  “You can’t do that at home?”

  I know for a fact that he’s been editing it on his phone, but I stay silent. I feel bad we’re not being honest with Dad, but I’m willing to do anything to get him to move faster. Mike’s murderer is still out there.

  Unfortunately, he gets us to school with no time to spare, and I can’t help but wonder whether he did it purposely so we wouldn’t have an opportunity to find trouble. We clamber out of the car just as the first bell for homeroom rings.

  “Too late to talk to Statten now,” I say, as we hustle inside.

  “Meet me at the end of third period and we’ll catch her at lunch,” Charlie says.

  We separate, rushing to our lockers to dump our backpacks before going to class. I walk into the classroom as the second bells rings and grab my chair. Statten’s still teaching the unit on child development, but I struggle to focus enough to take notes. For most of the class, all I can think about is whether Statten knows anything more about Autumn, or worse, if Gekas or my parents have warned the school about us stirring up shit, and whether Statten will rat us out if they have.

  The bell rings and I head straight to chem. Although I did my homework this weekend, I’m absolutely stumped when it comes to interpreting solubility curves and hope to find some clarity from Mr. James. By the end of class, I’m slightly less confused, but now we’re calculating the solubility product constant for saturated solutions, so I spend most of my spare trying to figure out my homework on that.

  I don’t realize what time it is until the bell rings, and I have to pack my books up quickly and hustle back to Statten’s room. The door is closed when I arrive, and there’s no sign of Charlie, so I knock.

  “Come in.”

  chapter 100

  Charlie’s already there, sitting near Statten’s desk, and I take a seat beside him.

  “Why do I feel this has nothing to do with Native studies or psychology?” she says, giving Charlie a look. Obviously he’s been buying time until I arrived. “What’s this about, boys?”

  Even asking this simple question seems to make her tense.

  I don’t see any easy way to approach the discussion, so I jump right in. “What can you tell us about Autumn Flettner?”

  Statten stares between Charlie and me, then finally blinks. “Autumn Flettner?”

  We nod.

  “Why are you asking about her?”

  She clearly knows enough to recognize the name. That’s something.

  “It’s about Mike.” This might sink the whole thing, but I’m hoping her kindness to me the other week means she’ll grant us some leeway—maybe even give us some answers.

  “How so?” she asks, looking far more distraught than I’d expected.

  I’m not quite sure how to put it. All I can come up with is, “Well, we’re worried that she somehow involved him in something bad.”

  “And you think it could have led to his murder?”

  I get a weird twist in my gut. She does know something.

  “We’re not sure,” Charlie says. I’m guessing he’s where I’m at, trying not to let any of us jump too far ahead of the questions. “Did you ever have to deal with her when she went to school here?”

  “This is none of your business.”

  Shit. We’ve stepped into it big time.

  “Anthony, when I told you to make things right, this isn’t what I meant.”

  “Ms. Statten, my friend is dead—“

  “I know. And you should leave the matter to the police.”

  “And we will,” I say. “Whatever we find out, we’ll tell them.”

  Statten studies us, deciding if she’ll continue.

  “All we’re trying to understand is what Mike was up to so that we can help them.”

  “And what does that have to do with Autumn?” she asks.

  “We
know she saw him the day of his murder. Mike’s not the kind of guy to find himself mixed up with a killer, but the way Autumn causes trouble—“

  “You think she may have?”

  Charlie and I both nod. I continue pleading for her help, “All we want to know is what you can tell us about her.”

  Statten picks up a pen, playing with it between her fingers. “She often got into trouble. I saw her in detention quite a bit.”

  “For what sorts of things?” I ask.

  “The usual. Fighting with other students. Fighting with her teachers. Fighting with the administration.”

  Everything I’d already assumed.

  But then she continues, “One time she spit on one of the maintenance staff.”

  “Wow. She likes to be difficult,” Charlie says, and hearing him make a statement like that makes me stifle a laugh.

  “Most kids seem to want to get along, but that girl seemed to find pleasure in being the villain.”

  “Did she ever cause grief for any male teachers?” Charlie asks.

  She clicks the pen, suddenly nervous. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Hook up with them? Get in their pants? Schizzle their dizzle?”

  “Charlie!” she warns.

  He raises his hand in surrender. “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”

  I take over. “I’m sorry. We’ve just heard that she had a habit of flirting with older guys.”

  Click click click. A pained look crosses her face. We seem to have struck close to home.

  Statten pauses for a moment. “There was a thing, but I’m not sure what it might have to do with Mike.” She pauses again. “Last year, she accused a teacher of inappropriate conduct.”

  How much, I wonder, not for the first time, have the events of the past year made me oblivious to everyone else’s lives?

  “A teacher from here?” I ask. “Who?”

  “Mr. Harriet.”

  My old biology teacher.

  I’m curious whether this has anything to do with his recent absence, but Charlie’s already asking her what happened.

  “Autumn accused him of sending inappropriate texts.”

  “Like, sexy texts?” Charlie asks.

  Statten nods. “Autumn said at first she didn’t know who it was, but when she figured it out, she reported it immediately.”

  “Seems like an open-and-shut accusation. If it were true, she could show the texts and he’d get booted.”

  Statten nods again. “Yes, but like everything about Autumn, it gets complicated. She said Harriet told her to delete the texts. She even said he showed her how.”

  “Sidestepping blame seems to be her strong suit,” Charlie says. “But wouldn’t a computer forensics team be able to retrieve the data?”

  “They said they could’ve if she’d come forward sooner.”

  “Why would she destroy the texts only to turn around and accuse him afterward?” I ask.

  “I think at the start she liked the attention.” Statten looks out the window as a couple of students run past. “He’s older than she is, relatively good-looking. It was exciting.”

  “So, she deleted the messages. No evidence, no case,” I say.

  “Yes, but Autumn dragged it out. Said she had screenshots of some of the messages but then couldn’t find them, then said the phone containing them was stolen.”

  “Ah, the old ‘destroyed evidence’ story!” Charlie sneers.

  “The whole thing went on for far too long and dragged Mr. Harriet’s name through the mud. He ended up going on paid leave, then paid stress leave. It affected his marriage and eventually his wife divorced him.”

  “Geez, everything this girl touches turns to shit,” Charlie says, and Statten glares at him. “Sorry,” he says quickly.

  “Did you know him?” I put in. “Did you ever ask his side of the story?”

  She shakes her head. “I knew him enough to talk to in the staff room or the hallway, but not enough to ask such a personal thing.”

  There’s only one question left.

  “So. Was it true?” I ask.

  Statten shrugs, still playing with the pen. “Who knows? There’s no proof that it happened. Given Autumn’s habit of deception and antagonism—”

  “But you think it did?”

  Statten doesn’t answer.

  “You do, don’t you?” I persist.

  She sighs, unwilling to make an unfounded accusation against a colleague, before finally giving a reluctant nod. “After a while, you start believing there could be a tiny morsel of truth amid all her lies.”

  chapter 101

  We step out of Statten’s classroom and walk to the cafeteria.

  “Every time I think I’ve heard the last of Autumn’s craziness, she just adds more fuel to the fire,” Charlie says.

  “Do you think Harriet’s the mystery stalker?” I ask.

  “Could be. If he is, it certainly gives him motive.”

  “And if there was any truth to her accusations, it fits Haley’s story. They start flirting and he starts hanging around Fresh Buns—”

  Charlie interrupts, “Then, things go sour in the relationship and he disappears—”

  “Until they go really sour and she accuses him of sexting—”

  “And he slips into stalker mode.”

  “If any of her story is true.”

  I catch Charlie glancing at me and we both know that this is a pretty big “if.” Autumn hasn’t given us much reason to believe anything she says.

  But something else doesn’t add up.

  “Does any of this really lead to Mike’s killer?”

  Charlie runs a hand through his shaggy hair. “I don’t know, man. I never knew Harriet. You did. Did he seem like the killer type? Even the pervy type?”

  “I don’t know,” I shrug. “He taught biology. He was boring. He gave us homework. And occasionally he yelled at kids.”

  “That could make any teacher a killer,” Charlie says.

  “Precisely.”

  “So, let’s run through the motive. He gets attached to Autumn. She dumps him, screws up his life.”

  “He loses his wife, starts creeping on her at work.”

  “Mike starts showing up—”

  I interrupt, “But he’s there for Haley, not Autumn.”

  “At the start. So, Harriet doesn’t worry.

  “But at some point, Autumn gets petty and digs her claws into Mike—”

  “And now Harriet notices.”

  “So she hooks up with Mike on Tuesday night and—what? Harriet murders him in a fit of jealous rage?”

  “That seems like a real slow burn. Why not do it sooner? What set him off this one time?” Charlie asks.

  All good questions.

  I have another. “And what does any of this have to do with the other murder victims? Are they all Autumn’s exes?”

  “If only we could talk to Gekas,” he says, surprising me. He catches my look. “Yeah, yeah, I know. It just seems like we’re missing something and it’d be nice to ask for her help.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere near Gekas until we’ve got something solid.”

  Then the bigger question comes into view.

  “Why would Harriet leave the body at the running trails? Is this about Mike or is it about us?”

  Charlie sighs.

  It doesn’t feel like we’re anywhere close to knowing what’s going on.

  chapter 102

  In the cafeteria, Charlie heads directly to Elaina’s table, and I follow.

  She’s surrounded by a bunch of her friends. Most of them are pretty smart—the kind who work their asses off on assignments and keep up with their studies.

  “Hey, Laura, Maxine, Gretchen,” I say.

 
They all express their sympathy for Mike, and I’m grateful. It’s nice to know he won’t be forgotten quickly.

  “What happened to you two? In trouble again?” Elaina asks.

  By the looks on her friends’ faces, this has become a foregone conclusion. I wonder if they always thought I was a troublemaker, or if this is a recent development because of my association with Charlie. Either way, I try not to take it personally.

  “Just talking to Statten,” Charlie says.

  Although he’s sitting beside Elaina, they’re not holding hands or anything. I’ve got to give the guy respect for not rushing things.

  “Oooooh,” Maxine says, rolling out the word.

  She’s prone to drama, so I’m sure she’s got a million ideas of what went down.

  “Just homework questions,” Charlie adds.

  “Yeah, right,” Gretchen says. She’s the sassy skeptic of the group. I’m pretty sure she and Maxine will end up in a catfight one day.

  “Is this homework academic or something more … personal?” Laura asks.

  She knows me the best out of all them. Long before I met Sheri, Laura and I hooked up a couple of times before she broke it off because she found me “exasperating.” In fact, it was through my relationship with her that I got to know Elaina.

  Charlie grins. “Man, you guys are your own interrogation unit. Bad guys would be sweating bullets in no time.”

  He’s avoided the question and I’m not the only one to notice. I don’t think any of them are going to let us continue until they get a proper response.

  “Personal,” I say, hoping that keeping it short will put an end to the cross-examination.

  “What about?” Maxine asks. She wants the juicy gossip.

  Charlie steps in. “You know. Stuff. Stuff unrelated to school. Stuff that gets us in trouble.”

  “So if we told Mrs. Johnson or Mr. Barry—?” Gretchen says.