The administrative office for the school board was located inside the high school, and so the meeting would be held in the high school auditorium. Even though I had been there many times since I graduated, it always felt a little off to return to school. Instinctively, I parked in the same space I had used when I was a student there.
By the time I walked into the auditorium, the meeting was already in full swing. A high school student, who looked like she’d rather be just about anywhere else on the planet, took a break from texting to hand me the evening’s agenda. The board was still in the middle of item number one: a new arts program for fourth through eighth graders.
David stood at the podium on the floor presenting the program to the board. “We at the co-op know the school system is having trouble providing arts education for the students, so we open our doors for any interested students who would like to take free after-school art instruction. This plan would be especially successful if these students could apply their time at the co-op toward class credit. We can’t let the arts die out in our community for lack of money.”
There was cheer from the crowd, and I found myself clapping. It was an excellent plan and would give the school system an out on the expense of an art program. The program had already been cut by two-thirds since I was in school. I shivered to think what kind of art education my nephew and nieces would receive by the time they were old enough to join the co-op’s program.
The dourfaced president of the school board didn’t look nearly as enthused. “Thank you, Mr. Berring, we will take it under consideration.”
If that’s the kind of reaction David’s free arts education plan received from the school board, my parents and their bell tower crusade were doomed. I spotted them in the last row on the first section of the seats. I hurried over to them. As always, the row was full of their band of faithful groupies: church members and middle-aged leftists. “I’m so glad you decided to come,” Dad whispered hoarsely as I knelt by his chair.
Mom looked down at me. She reached into her expansive bag and pulled out an enormous stack of pro-bell tower pamphlets. She thrust them at me. “Hand these out at the end of the meeting. Make sure you’re at the main exit that leads to the parking lot. You will catch most of them. We need as many of these people on our side as we can get.”
I took the papers without a word and consulted the evening’s agenda. The bell tower issue was the very last item. Perhaps the school board was hoping there wouldn’t be enough time for that particular item. They should know better, after having wrangled with my parents once before.
I was surprised when I read my mother’s pamphlet. It wasn’t about saving the tower; it was about a concert that would be held on the square next month to raise money to restore the aging building. It seemed like Mom was jumping the gun to plan such an event. From past experience, I wondered what she had hidden up her sleeve for tonight.
I found a seat in another section and listened to the next presenter talk about new computers for elementary school. His monotone voice lulled me into a bored daze. It was nearing eight and the close of the meeting. The board president raised her gavel. “I believe that’s all we have time for tonight. Is there a motion for adjournment?”
“I—” A member of the audience began but was cut off my mother. Her preacher voice could overpower a foghorn.
Mom stood. “I move that we continue the meeting to address the important issue of the bell tower.”
The president narrowed her eyes. “There are only ten minutes left in the meeting.”
“This won’t take long.” She made her way down the aisle with the same confidence she displayed when she approached her pulpit on Sunday morning.
The president scowled but gestured for her to come forward.
“The bell tower is part of Stripling’s legacy. I have documents here that declare the tower a state historic landmark, making it illegal for you tear it down.”
The president bristled. “How can you do that without the board’s consent?”
“I don’t need the school board’s consent, only the support of the city council, which the Save the Bell committee obtained yesterday. The city council was very pleased with the idea of saving another historic building in town. You know how much they hate to lose any bit of our Western Reserve heritage.”
The president looked like she was ready to spit. “This is on school property.”
“Of course, but your school property is paid for by tax levies, and so essentially you work for the town.”
The board couldn’t argue with that. Several of the members began whispering to each other.
Mom put her hand to her cheek as if she were thinking. “One more thing I learned, Madam President; the demo company that believes we should destroy the tower is owned by your brother-in-law.”
“I don’t see what that has to with anything. His company is the one the city uses on a regular basis.”
“Yes, but did you get a second or even third opinion about the stability of the structure?”
“I don’t know why that would be necessary.”
“I should think it is in any case when the school system is contemplating a large and expensive project. However, in this case it would be even more necessary, considering your close relationship to the company’s owner.”
The president’s face was beet red. “What are you suggesting?”
Mom’s shoulders shrugged. “I’m not suggesting anything.” She reached in a large tote bag she had at her side and pulled out a thick sheaf of paper. “Here are four statements from four different local contractors, none of whom have any relation to the school board or any members of the Save the Bell committee, who have inspected the tower and declare it is structurally sound.” She placed the stack of papers on the table. “You can keep those. I have my own copies.”
The president went from red to white.
Mom turned to the audience. “Even though the structure’s sound, it will take time to raise the funds to restore the tower to its former glory. Out of concern for our children’s safety, I recommend the tower be locked and closed to the public until the necessary funds can be raised. Let’s put it to a vote.”
The ayes had it.
Mom checked her watch. “Excellent, we are three minutes early. I move to adjourn.” Yet another commanding performance delivered by my mother. The school board never stood a chance.
She quickly received a second, and the president’s gavel hit the table. I wondered if there would be a dent.
Chapter Forty-Two
As the last person walked across the parking lot with a pro-bell tower concert flyer in hand, I stacked the rest of the pamphlets on the edge of a windowsill. Dad rolled up. “India, I think we’re in trouble.”
I looked around. There was no one in the hall. “Trouble? Why? Where’s Mom? Did she get herself arrested? I’m not in the mood to bail her out of the Justice Center.”
“It’s worse than that.”
Something worse than my pastor-mother being arrested and thrown into the city jail? There’s the Hayes family perspective for you.
“Where’s Mom?”
“She got a ride with some of the bell tower team. They are going to meet at the church to plan the next move.” He looked down. “I just feel so awful about this.”
“What is it?” I was starting to worry.
“It’s Zach. I can’t find him.”
“He was here at the school board meeting?”
“Not here per se. He was out in the courtyard. I had tied him with his leash to one of the benches there. He’s gone. His leash is gone, too. He must have untied himself somehow. I don’t know how he did it. I tied those knots extra tight. He must have worked for a magician in a former life.”
“Dad! I can’t believe you did that.”
Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry.”
“We have to look for him.”
“Darn this chair,” Dad said. “I’m useless.”
Dad rarely
complained about his wheelchair, so I knew he really felt upset about losing Zach.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll find him. He probably wandered off. And you’re not useless. You can stay here in case Zach comes back to the school.”
David stepped up. I hadn’t realized he was still in the high school “I can help you look,” he said.
“No, that’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’m sure it won’t take me long to find him.”
Dad beamed. “Great idea. India would love your help.”
“I—”
“It’s settled then,” David interrupted. “We’d better start looking before it gets much later.”
David and I walked across the parking lot to the courtyard where high school students could take their lunches outside in nice weather. In northern Ohio, nice weather during the school year is all of a couple months long. There was a dim security light in the courtyard, providing us a full view of the place. Zach wasn’t there. I peered behind the bushes and called the dog’s name.
David stood off to the side and occasionally called as well.
I glanced at him. “I’m going to look over by the stadium. There are a lot of little places to hide there, and Zach might have been attracted by the smell of discarded popcorn from last weekend’s game. You might want to start around the front of the school.” I started off at a fast walk.
I heard David’s heavy footsteps behind me. Quickly, he was at my side. “I’ll go with you.”
“I think this would be more effective if we split up,” I said, not breaking my pace.
Before David could respond, I heard an unmistakable bark. I broke into a run in that direction. The barking led us to the foot of the bell tower. I turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. “He’s in there,” I said in disbelief. I peered into the inky black inside of the tower and saw nothing. “Zach! Zach! Come on boy. Come here!” I continued calling for a few more minutes.
Zach’s barks were becoming increasingly hysterical, but he didn’t appear.
I looked up. The barks and howls were coming from above. “Oh, crap.”
“Looks like he’s at the top,” David said.
“Crap. Crap. Crap,” I said. “Zach! Zach! Here, boy!”
Nothing but frenzied barking from above.
“I don’t think he’s coming down,” David said. “Maybe we need to go up after him.”
“Double crap!”
“It will be fine. Didn’t your mother report that four contractors found the building sound?”
“I don’t think they inspected the building in the middle of the night.”
I looked inside again. There was very little light coming from the windows at the top, certainly not enough to climb the treacherous stairs by. A small penlight hung from my keychain. I clicked it on. It gave us all of two inches of light.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
“If you want to stay down here, I can go up,” David offered.
“No, no, I’ll go. Zach’s my responsibility.”
“Let’s both go then.”
“Fine. You go first.”
David and I shuffled to the foot of the stairs. He stepped on the first step, and it creaked under his weight.
I grimaced. “I’ll wait until you get to the first landing before I start up.”
A minute later, David’s shadow paused. “I’m at the first landing.”
“Okay.” Under my breath, I added, “Here we go.”
I held my breath the entire walk up the staircase. My tiny penlight provided little comfort. David reached the top quickly. “You’re almost there,” he said encouragingly. “You won’t believe this when you see it.”
“Is Zach up there?”
“Yes.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.”
I heard a deep growl, and I quickened my pace.
I reached the top. With the open windows, there was enough light around the bell to see pretty clearly. It was a cold, clear night with a half moon hanging low in the sky.
Zach’s leash was tied in knots around the railing. Whoever had done it had spent a lot of time making sure the dog couldn’t get loose. “Poor baby,” I cooed. The dog nuzzled my hand. I looked at David. “Who would do this? I hope he’s not hurt.” The long leash was also wrapped around his neck several times. I put two fingers between the leash and his neck. It was tied loosely there, but I worried that he’d choke himself if he moved too much and tightened the leash.
“He looks okay. Probably some kids thought it would be a funny joke,” David said.
“Well, it’s not. You wouldn’t happen to have a pocket knife on you? It’s going to take forever to untie these knots.”
“No, sorry.”
I stood and reached into my jeans pocket or my phone. “I’d better call Dad, so he won’t worry.” I hit the number five on my cell, which speed-dialed my dad. The line began to ring, and Dad picked up.
“Dad—”
David bumped into me and the cell flew out of my hand and over the rail. We heard it crash on the cement floor below with a sickening smash. I stared at him in shock.
Chapter Forty-Three
I looked over the railing. It was pitch black, but I most likely didn’t want to see the sad remains of my cell scattered on the cement.
David stood beside me, looking down. “I’m so sorry.”
I moved away from him back to the tethered dog. “It’s okay.” I hid my face and started working on the knots.
David circled me. The knots were tight, and I wasn’t making any headway on them. Damn my short fingernails. Lasha’s dragon claws were better suited for this type of canine rescue.
“You’re a very bright girl, India. I’m sure you know that.”
I didn’t respond and concentrated on the knots.
“You just wouldn’t let Victor go.”
I looked up for the briefest moment at David, and involuntarily cowered at his massive size. A chill ran down my back. Zach must have felt it, too, because he shivered. “Victor?”
“Yes, Victor. This is his dog after all.”
I doubled my efforts on the knots, but my speed made me clumsy. I took a deep breath and ordered myself to calm down and concentrate on the knots. The letter came to mind.
“I can’t wait for you to figure this out. I need to take care of it now,” David said.
I felt cold because I’d already figured it out. David was the killer. He’d murdered Tess, and Jerry, too, to keep Victor’s secret safe.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ll never get them untied without a knife. I made sure the knots were extra, extra tight when I tied them.”
I froze. Zach growled low and deep in his throat. I scratched behind one of his ears and stood slowly. “Why would you murder Tess to cover up a crime Victor committed?”
“I wasn’t covering up his crime. I knew what Victor had done, and it was only a matter of time before she learned of my own indiscretions. Stupid woman. Just like you.”
I swallowed. My throat was dry like ash, funeral ash.
David leaned against the silent bell. “She was just like you, you know. She was looking for trouble. She said she found a letter from her uncle, a confession of sorts, and she wanted to know more of what happened. She said she wanted to know everything, so she could tell her son and he could know the truth about what happened to his father. She came to me because she thought I would know, because I was his assistant. I knew everything about his life, and she was right.
“You see, after dear old Victor killed, accidentally of course, his niece’s husband, he asked me to take care of it. I went back to the scene to make sure there was no damning evidence there. I got the car fixed. I made the whole mishap go away.”
“You must have thought a lot of your boss.” I desperately scanned the area for a weapon, but all I saw were pigeon feathers, mouse droppings, and cobwebs, none of which would be much help to me. “That was a bi
g risk you were taking, covering it up for him.”
“Yes, it was a risk, but I didn’t take it for Victor.” He walked calmly to the other side of the room, giving me a clear escape route down the stairs. He knew I wouldn’t leave Zach trapped there with him, and he was rubbing my face in it.
There was a skittering sound from down below, and I jumped. Zach began to whine. He felt my body tense. David peered over the edge. “Long way down. I imagine there are some pretty huge rats in this old place. It’s just like your parents to want to save some worthless relic, isn’t it?”
“We were talking about Victor, not my parents.”
“You’re right. You see, after covering up the accident, I owned Victor. I owned him and his millions.”
“You blackmailed him.”
“How else was I going to open my own artist co-op? It had always been my dream. I could be an artist full-time and dedicate myself to my craft. You, yourself, said you have that same wish.”
“I wouldn’t reach it the way you did.”
“Then you never will, my dear. The art world is not kind. Very few can make the jump from avocation to vocation.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I’ve seen your paintings. Your odds aren’t good for making the leap.” He sighed. “I even threw the old man a bone by asking his widowed niece to become one of the founding members of the co-op. I liked to keep her close to remind him I could tell her the truth at any time.”
“If you told her, the money would run out.”
“How true, but it was a gamble Old Vic wasn’t willing to take.”
“What about Jerry? Did he know? Is that why you killed him?”
David snorted. “Jerry didn’t know anything, but I was afraid Tess’s murder wasn’t going to stick to him like I hoped. Celeste turned out to be a better person to frame.”
“You killed Jerry to frame Celeste for both murders?” I felt my eye begin to twitch.
Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) Page 23