by Cynthia Raye
“What is it?” She pretended to be puzzled.
“I think drinks and snacks are free today.”
“Gosh, how could I forget?” She nodded toward him. “Come on. Let’s go.”
They found a table to the right of the entrance. Hardly anyone else was in the cafeteria now, except for a couple of tables near the serving area where several students sat.
“Okay,” Ronni said, as they each took a seat. “What’s on your mind?”
“I think something’s wrong with me!” He frowned. “Really wrong.”
“I don’t understand,” Ronni said.
“It’s that I just can’t make myself care that Sylvia’s dead. Isn’t that terrible? It’s like, so what? She was a horrible person. Not that I’m happy she died. I’m not. I wouldn’t want anyone to die. But…. You’ll think I’m a terrible person.”
“I won’t, Robbie. It’s okay. I don’t think you’re terrible. I can understand. I’m sure other kids feel that way too. It’s like they’re telling themselves, ‘Okay, she’s dead. I’m sorry, but it happened.’ And that’s all right. Certainly, it was a shock.”
“Oh, yes. It was awful.”
“See, you do care.”
“But I just can’t make myself care about her. I feel bad for her parents. Things like that. But still, oh wow… I just don’t feel anything for her. I could say more, but I won’t.”
“Go ahead. I won’t hate you. I won’t be upset.” she said, tenderly.
“She was not a nice person. She was the meanest person I ever met. So maybe… Okay, maybe it’s even better for everyone else that’s she died. Now she won’t hurt any more people. She won’t do horrible things anymore.” He shook his head. “See why I feel guilty? It’s because I can’t make myself care.” He covered his face with his hands. “And to me that’s a really bad thing. A bad thing that I just can’t care.”
“Look at it this way, Robbie. Suppose one of your friends were murdered. Then you’d care, right?”
“I would!”
“So you’re not an unfeeling person.” She exhaled sharply. “Sylvia did a lot of things to hurt people—physically and emotionally. No one liked her in life, Robbie. Almost none of the kids. So it’s okay not to like her when she’s dead.”
“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with me?” He lowered his hands and looked into her eyes. “You’re not just saying that… to make me feel better.”
“No, I’m not,” She reached across the desk and patted his arm. “I honestly mean it.”
“You don’t know how much better that makes me feel.”
“I’m glad. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to talk with me.”
“You know what, Ms. Adams!” He stood quickly. “You’re super! You’re the best! He quickly turned and rushed out of the cafeteria.
Ronni felt tears sting her eyes. What a nice thing for him to say. And the poor thing he thought he was unfeeling. No way.
Chapter 14
Ronni didn’t see anyone waiting to talk with her, so she decided she’d go back to the spot where Sylvia was murdered. Of course, the police had thoroughly investigated the area around the statue, the murder weapon, but maybe they had missed something. Not likely but possible, she thought. Or was she just being foolish? Well, she didn’t have anything better do, so why not?
She left the cafeteria, taking a cup of coffee with her, and walked down the hall toward the stairs that led to the second floor. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. There wasn’t a single reminder of what had happened there the previous morning. She shrugged. She hadn’t expected there to be anything. Still, she kept looking… and she noticed something. The pedestal on which the murder weapon rested was the tiniest bit out of balance. Hmm.
She reached into her purse, which was slung over her shoulder, and drew out a tissue. It probably didn’t matter, she told herself, if she left fingerprints or not. There already were so many on the statue and probably the pedestal itself that it wouldn’t matter, but as her mom always used to say, “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
She glanced around to see if anyone was watching. No one was in sight. She set her coffee on one of the bottom steps, wound the tissue around her fingers, picked up the statue, and set it on the floor. She pushed against the pedestal, tilting it a little and voila, there was an earring underneath.
A tiny, one-diamond stud. Wow, she thought. It had to have come from the murderer. When the person replaced the statue, she must have bumped into the pedestal at the exact time the earring fell off. But it must have been somehow defective or loose to begin with. Ronni thought.
Balancing the pedestal with both hands, she scooted her foot underneath and pushed out the earring. She gently let the pedestal back in place, bent down, and grabbed it up. Who did it belong to? she wondered. And how on earth did it get under the pedestal?
Ronni shook her head. She’d definitely have to try to find out who lost the earring.
Vaguely, she remembered seeing someone wearing a pair that looked like this. But who was it? She tried to think, but she couldn’t remember. The problem was that so many kids wore similar earrings. She shook her head. Why did stud-type earrings have to be so popular at Watson-Collins? The only difference she could see between the one she found and other similar pieces was the cut. This was different from the usual in that it was triangular, with the sides longer than the top. Most diamonds in stud earrings, she thought, were more symmetrical.
She opened her purse and dropped the earring inside. Then she bent down and picked up the statue and replaced it. She retrieved her coffee and looked around. Still no one in sight. The kids who came in to talk to counselors or to her and other teachers who’d decided to help were most probably either in the cafeteria or in offices or conference rooms.
Should she tell the police about finding the earring? She knew she should. But did she have to do it right away? No, she wanted a little more time to try to remember who she had seen wearing an earring like this one…or at least very similar to it. Her mind was a blank. Besides that, single stud earrings were pretty common, both among girls and boys.
Totally lost in thought, she headed for the cafeteria. Just before she reached the entrance, she heard someone call her name and turned.
“Suzie, how are you?”
“Worried. Upset.” She hurried up to Ronni. “I heard you were here. I’d like to talk with you.”
“Of course. My office or the cafeteria?”
Suzie nodded toward the door to the cafeteria. “Here is fine.”
They found an empty table just to the right of the door. All those around them were empty.
“Thanks for talking to me,” Suzie said as they both sat down.
“You’re certainly welcome.” She smiled. “So you say you’re worried and upset. It obviously has to do with Sylvia’s death.”
“Yes.” She met Ronni’s eyes. “You know the problem I had with her.”
Ronni met her gaze. “I do. And I can understand your still being upset because of what she did and then what the other girls did.”
“I am,” Suzie replied. “But that will go away. I’m sure most kids won’t even think of it in a year. And the horribleness will fade with time.” She sighed. “What I’m worried about is that I’m going to be blamed for killing her.”
“Because of Sylvia taunting you the day before she died?”
“I was angry enough at the time to want her dead. Enraged, really. I actually wished her dead. I wished she’d die an agonizing death.”
“Suzie, don’t blame yourself for that. It’s a natural reaction. Everyone has feelings like that sometimes. It’s a momentary thing. Just think about it.” She smiled sympathetically. “You really don’t want her to be dead, do you?”
Suzie expelled a deep breath. “I suppose I don’t. Though I’m still mad at her.” She shook her head. “How can I be mad at someone who’s… who’s no longer alive?” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God, why did it have to happen?”
“Do you think everyone who know what she did—mocking me, and calling me names—will think that I’m the one who… who killed her?”
“I suppose it’s natural to do so,” Ronni said. “But then there are a lot of other instances of that sort of thing. Kids who were the target of her cruelty. And there’s no denying it, she did some extremely cruel things to other students.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She frowned. “The thing is, it couldn’t have been me.”
“What do you mean, Suzie?”
I got to school late that day. Sometimes I leave early in the morning to go for a cup of coffee and study for an exam or whatever. Yesterday we were to have a biology exam. Because it’s fairly quiet there, a few of my friends and I get together at the coffee shop. That means we don’t have to put up with all the stuff going on with younger brothers or sisters before school. It’s easier to study there. So that’s what we did. And we stayed a little too long. When we got here yesterday, we saw all the kids standing around outside.”
“Well, I certainly don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Ronni told her. Your friends can back up what you say.”
“If they’ll do it,” she said, sounding concerned.
Ronni leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Why wouldn’t they?”
Suzie laughed, without humor. “I guess I’m just borrowing trouble, huh?”
Ronni chuckled. “Sounds that way to me.”
Suddenly, Ronni noticed something. Suzie wore only one earring, and it looked very similar to the one she’d dropped in her purse.
“Suzie!” Her voice sounded more harsh than she meant it to be.
Suzie jumped. “What! Is something wrong?”
Ronni leaned forward. “You’re missing an earring.”
She shrugged. “Oh, I know I am.”
“You don’t seem concerned.”
Suzie laughed. “It was hurting my ear, so I took it off. My birthday was last week. Mom and Dad gave me the earrings as one of my gifts. Today was the first time I wore them.”
Ronni felt far from convinced. “You’re sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure.” Suzie sounded defiant and a little angry.
Ronni reached into her purse and took out the earring she’d found under the pedestal. “I asked because it looks a lot like this one.”
Suzie took the earring. “It does. It’s almost an exact match. The only difference is that the triangle on mine has sides that are all the same size.” She glanced at Ronni. “You thought the earring you have is mine?”
Ronni wasn’t sure. “Maybe.” There did seem to be a slight difference.
“You found that one?” Suzie asked.
“I did, yes.” Ronni gazed directly into her eyes, an accusatory look.
“Where?”
Should she tell her or not? Why not? she decided. “It was under the statue... Or at least under the pedestal where the statue stands.”
Suzie was shocked. “Under the statue that the murderer used to… to murder Sylvia?”
“That’s right. I noticed the pedestal was just a little out of balance.” Even if there was a slight difference between the two earrings, did that mean anything? Ronni asked herself. She didn’t know. The difference was slight.
“My God. That means you think I killed Sylvia?” Her face had turned white.
“Did you?” Ronni demanded.
Suzie grabbed her purse and turned it upside down. “Here, I’ll show you.” Everything inside scattered onto the table. There was no earring. Suzie looked at Ronni and then back down at the table. “It’s not here! How can it not be here?”
“I think maybe we’d better talk to the police.”
“No! Wait!” She scrambled through everything on the table. No earring. She grabbed the purse and turned it upside down again. “It has to be here. It has to be.” She reached inside the purse and felt around. Again she faced Ronni. “It’s under the lining! Something’s under the lining. Look.” She pulled the lining away from the bottom of the purse. Something was underneath.
Then Ronni noticed the lining had a small hole in it about halfway down from the top. “The lining is torn, Suzie. See if you can reach whatever’s inside.”
Suzie frantically dug her fingers through the hole, felt around, and pulled out an earring. It perfectly matched the one in her ear.
Ronni felt her face flush. “I’m sorry, Suzie.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“You thought I did it! You thought I killed her. And that I was lying about the earring. I can’t believe it. I trusted you, Ms. Adams. You were my favorite teacher.” Suzie jumped up and ran from the cafeteria, tears boiling in her eyes.
Chapter 15
“I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt so bad,” Ronni said as she sat with Liz in the cafeteria. Liz had also come in to talk to students, but this was the first time they’d seen each other, except to pass in the hallway.
“Don’t blame yourself. You had every right to be suspicious.” Liz gave her a sympathetic look.
Her shoulders sagged. “What I should have done was call the police immediately. After I found the earring.”
“From what you told me, I gather that you didn’t have time.”
Ronni sighed deeply. “I suppose not.” She looked into Liz’s eyes. “Suzie probably hates me.”
Liz hesitated a moment before answering. “I’ll be glad to talk to her about it, if you like.”
Ronni shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe that would just make things worse.”
“Let me give it a try.” Liz reached across the small table and patted Ronni’s hand. “Okay?”
Ronni tried to smile. “Okay.”
“By the way, I’ve been asking around too—to see if I can find anyone else who had a motive for murdering Sylvia.”
“And?”
“She affected so many other students. As you know, not one of them—except her girls—liked her. And I wonder if even they did. Couldn’t it be one of them? Someone who was jealous? Someone who was tired of kowtowing to Sylvia? I’ve been thinking a lot about that.”
“Never occurred to me,” Ronni said, surprised that it hadn’t. Of course, it was possible. The revolt of the masses… Stop that! she told herself. A murder had been committed. It wasn’t some frivolous thing that had occurred. Far from it. “I suppose we had better try to talk to them.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Liz answered. “Incidentally, one of the boys I talked with is Chen Huang. Do you know him?”
“I don’t. I’m sorry.” She frowned. “What about him?”
“He’s originally from China. Like everyone else here, of course, he’s very bright but has never quite mastered conversing in English. He’s hesitant in carrying on a conversation and sometimes mispronounces words.”
“And Sylvia mocked him for that, I suppose.” Ronni felt disgusted. “Was there no end to Sylvia’s abuse of other students?”
“He’s in one of my classes—junior English—and talked to me about this just a few days ago.”