by Sean Black
She closed her eyes. Her thumb pulsed with pain. She smiled to herself. It wasn’t a good feeling, but somehow it was comforting. She wiped the smear of blood away, and looked around for somewhere she could hide the knife.
51
It was a small enough town that it hadn’t taken Lock too much time to find out where the little old lady who had scolded Ty, lived. Lock parked one street over, and walked to the house. He climbed three wooden stairs to the porch, and knocked on the front door.
He heard the lady inside before he saw her. She was muttering about having been woken from a nap. It wasn’t a great start.
The front door opened and she peered at him through the screen. “I’m not buying anything.”
“That’s good because I’m not selling anything. I wanted to ask you a few questions about Broken Ridge.”
The door slammed shut. He tapped on the frame again. “Ma'am.”
“Go away or I’ll call the police.”
He was fairly sure she was still standing behind the door. He was also fairly certain that she wasn’t about to call the police just yet.
Lock put a hand up the side of the door, and leaned forward so that she would be able to hear him through the door without him having to shout. “Ma'am, my friend’s daughter is at Broken Ridge, and he’s very concerned for her safety. She was placed there by his ex-wife, and if we’re going to get her out of that place, I need any information get.”
There was no answer from behind the door.
“If you can’t, or you won’t help me then I’ll leave and I won’t bother you again,” he continued on. “But I know that you have some strong opinions about the place.”
He gave it a few seconds, turned and started back down the steps. His foot had barely fallen onto the bottom step when he heard the door open again.
“You’d better come on in,” she said, holding open the screen door.
Lock walked back up the steps and inside. He followed her into a small but neat as a pin kitchen.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Water would be great.”
She opened the refrigerator and brought out a jug of chilled water. She took two glasses out of a cabinet and poured them each a glass. They sat down at the small, formica-topped kitchen table. A grey and white cat scooted its way under the table, rubbing itself against Lock’s legs before it disappeared out through a cat flap.
“So how did you know to ask me about Broken Ridge?” the lady, whom he’d learned was called Miriam Toms, asked him.
“I’ve been asking around,” Lock told her.
She rolled her eyes. “About the school? Bet that’s made you real popular.”
“Not especially,” said Lock. “But I’ve always thought that popularity was kind of over-rated.”
Miriam Toms laughed. “You and me both.”
Most people he’d asked about Broken Ridge had either gone quiet or feigned ignorance. The vibe he’d gotten was that it wasn’t a subject that local people felt comfortable discussing. That was almost always a good indication of problems. A well run school that brought money into an area was usually a source of civic pride rather than secrecy.
“Do you mind if I ask how you came to be so concerned about Broken Ridge?”
She laughed again, this time there was more of an edge to it. “You don’t know?”
Lock shook his head.
“I worked there. As a counsellor.”
It all made sense now to Lock. But it also concerned him slightly. If she was a disgruntled former employee she may have an axe to grind. Her objectivity could be called into question.
“How long were you there for?”
“Three years, which believe me was more than long enough. I only stayed as long as I did because I liked the kids. And I thought that if I was there then perhaps I could be a moderating influence on that crazy bitch Gretchen Applewhite. Pardon my language.”
The apology wasn’t needed, but she didn’t seem to him like the kind of woman who used that kind of language without some pretty strong emotion being behind it. He wanted to ask her about Jennifer, whether she’d been there for that incident, or if she wasn’t then whether she’d heard anything. But that could wait. He didn’t want to spook her.
Instead, Lock asked, “What did you see that concerned you?”
She got up from the kitchen table and headed towards the living room. “We’re going to need a drink. If you don’t then I definitely do.”
Miriam Toms spent an hour giving him a run down of what she experienced at Broken Ridge. Most of it Lock had heard before. If not in relation to Broken Ridge then to one of the other thousand or so private schools of its type.
What surprised him was that so much bad practice could be concentrated into one place. If these types of schools could be dysfunctional then Broken Ridge would be the poster child.
From punishments that would ruled illegal in a county, state or federal prison to all kinds of abuse by staff members that should have seem them in court, to straight up psychological manipulation and brain-washing that may not have been illegal, but was certainly unethical, Miriam Toms related it all. With the kind of detail that made her highly credible.
Most alarming of all, it was clear from what she described that all of this was allowed to go on because of the leadership of the school. There was also a dark undercurrent to it. A line that could be drawn from Gretchen’s domineering father, who had established the school in the first place, to her, and in turn to the staff who implemented her philosophy and policies.
“Did you know Gretchen’s father?” Lock asked Miriam.
“Not really. Only by reputation.”
“Which was?”
“Well, no one round here spent any time with him unless they had to, or there was money to be made.”
“Not a pleasant guy?’
“He was pretty aloof, and he had a temper. Plus, he thought because he ran the school that people paid so much money to send their kids too that made him above everyone else.”
“And Gretchen?”
“She looked at her father the way most people look at God. I think that was a big part of the problem. Especially after he passed.”
“You mean, she’s trying to prove a point to herself.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. A lot of the stuff that Albert did would be considered cruel but there was some kind of method behind it. Gretchen does stuff because she wants to show just how tough she can be. That’s when it got dangerous there. Anyone even hints at challenging her authority, and she gets rid of them.”
“And that’s what you did?”
Miriam moved her glass around the table top in small circles. For a moment she seemed lost in her past.
“Yes, I did. But way too late. I made the mistake of thinking that if I stayed around that I could somehow put the brakes on the worst stuff.”
“The worst stuff being?” Lock prompted.
“You’d think it would be physical violence. Like once I saw Gretchen totally lose it and drag a girl away from a fire pit session by her hair. But as bad as that sounds, it wasn’t the worst thing that she did. Not by a long way. The psychological stuff, the bullying, setting the others on one kid like a pack of wolves, that was what really did the damage. And Gretchen was really good at that. She could manipulate people better than any politician, and what made it worse was that she seemed to get a kick out of it.”
“She’s a sadist?”
“I’m not even sure that’s an adequate enough word for what she is. But, yes, she gets a lot of pleasure from seeing other people in pain.”
‘Was Jennifer Oates one of those people?” Lock asked.
Miriam’s expression darkened. “One of them, yes.”
52
Ty watched as the flames from the fires danced in Gretchen’s eyes as she marched back and forth between the groups of students huddled around the pits
“If the person who stole from Mr Cross does not come forwar
d, every single one of you will be punished.”
By Ty’s estimate, her rant had been going on for a full ten minutes. If nothing else, he had to admire her lung capacity. She had barely stopped to draw breath.
There was part of him that regretted informing her of the theft. But he hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Even though his sidearm was in a very secure carry case – one that would likely take a locksmith to break into – it was still a gun that was in the possession of someone here. Likely a minor. Likely a minor whose behaviour was unpredictable. And, there was a good chance that it was a minor who wasn’t used to handling a gun in a safe manner.
Gretchen stopped next to a group of girls. She tapped them on the shoulder one by one. That was their signal to stand up. She asked them all whether they had taken, or had knowledge of who had taken, Ty’s property.
One by one, they denied any involvement or knowledge. They sat back down. The person next to them was tapped on the shoulder. The process repeated.
Even staff members weren’t exempt. They too had to stand and deny knowledge.
As every person spoke, Gretchen stood in front of them, and stared into their eyes. Because she was shorter than most of the staff, and many of the students, especially the boys, it came off as comical and threatening in equal measure.
When she had asked everyone present, Gretchen walked back across to Ty. She stood behind him. It gave him the creeps.
“This man came here to help us, to help each and every one of you, and this is how we have chosen to repay him? Shame on you. Shame on all of you.”
Her voice was beginning to crack with emotion. But it seemed forced. Put on. Like a performance by a bad actor.
“Not only do we have a thief among us. We have a liar,” she continued. “And a coward. Whoever did this has until tomorrow morning to come forward. If no one comes forward then you will all be punished.”
None of the kids said anything. Ty noticed that a couple of the boys in his group were shaking. He guessed that whatever the planned punishment was it wasn’t going be fun.
The problem was that none of this actually solved the problem. Ty’s gun was still out there somewhere. They couldn’t assume that one of the kids wouldn’t be able to get it out of the case.
Gretchen had started to walk away from the fire pit area. Ty got up, and ran to catch her up.
“Miss Applewhite?”
She turned.
“Yes?”
“Listen, I know how you deal with this is your call, but would you mind if I made a suggestion?”
Her expression told him that she wasn’t looking for any suggestions, but she nodded her head. “Go on.”
“Well, if one of the kids did take it, it has to be here somewhere. If we find it in one of the dorms then that at least narrows down who our thief might be.”
It was so obvious that he felt kind of stupid suggesting it. But then again, no one else had. Gretchen seemed more fixated on the punishment she could mete out than in actually solving the problem.
She folded her arms. Not a good sign. She didn’t like her authority being challenged. Not by anyone. She seemed to take it personally. Again, not a good personality trait for someone in a position of authority. The great leaders Ty had worked with over the years had the ability to remove their ego from decisions, or at least keep it in check.
“Very well then. Have the dorms searched. But they’re all going to be punished tomorrow. Whether or not it’s found now or not.”
Ty didn’t follow that logic, but he wasn’t going to argue. All that mattered to him was finding his gun before something really bad happened.
He walked back to the fire pit, and gathered up Chris and the other staff members. The students stayed where they were.
Ty laid out his plan. Each dorm would search their neighboring dorm. That would mean there was less chance of someone deliberately overlooking the gun case if they had taken it, or knew who had.
Chris seemed pretty excited. “That’s some Marine grade thinking right there.”
Ty did his best not to roll his eyes. All it was was the basic application of common sense.
“We could also offer them a little incentive,” one of the younger female staff members suggested. “Tell them that whoever finds it will be spared being punished.”
A similar thought had already crossed Ty’s mind when Gretchen was speaking. If she’d said that whoever fessed up would be expelled there probably would have been a line all the way down to the main road.
“Gretchen will never go for that,” said Chris.
“Okay, well let’s stick with the plan we have,” said Ty.
The staff members broke off to gather the kids from their dorm and begin the search. Ty walked back to his group of boys.
An hour later, Ty led his group back out to the fire pits. They hadn’t found the gun case. Nor had anyone else. Its location was still a mystery.
The search had turned up a bunch of contraband items, everything from a couple of girlie magazines in one of the boy’s dorms to candy. As illicit items went it struck Ty as a fairly pitiful collection, but Chris appeared pretty stoked.
“Y’see,” he said to Ty. “You just can’t trust these kids.”
Ty was more concerned that the gun case hadn’t turned up. It meant that whoever had taken it had gone to considerable lengths to hide it. As far as what they had found, Ty doubted that some Snickers bars posed much of a threat. The girlie mags that Chris was tossing onto one of the fires almost made Ty nostalgic for the days before the internet when the merest peek of a naked woman was a thrill.
“What about the other buildings?” Ty asked Chris.
“What about them?”
“Well, maybe we should take a look.”
“But the students don’t have access.”
“They could have snuck in.”
Chris grimaced. “I don’t know. Gretchen really doesn’t like anyone going near the ranch house. Not even staff.”
“Can’t hurt to ask her,” said Ty.
53
Gretchen’s hand closed around the SIG Sauer. It was a nice weapon. Well maintained. Not cheap. Neither was the carry case. It had taken her longer than she thought to get it open. In the end she’d had to use a drill with a diamond tipped bit.
The phone on her desk rang. She put the gun back in its case, and shoved the case under her desk. She glanced at the phone’s display. It was a Washington D.C. number. No doubt some neurotic parent wanted an update on how the kid they had messed up was doing.
Gretchen lifted the phone. “Broken Ridge Academy. Gretchen Applewhite speaking.”
“Hi, my name is Susan Kranston. I’m calling from the Washington Post,” said the woman on the other end of the line.
Gretchen held the phone away from her ear and stared at it.
“Hello?. . .Hello?. . . Are you there?”
54
Ty knocked at the ranch house door. When no one came, he turned the handle and pushed the door open. “Miss Applewhite?”
No one answered. Off in the distance, he could hear someone talking. It sounded like Gretchen, but he couldn’t be certain.
He walked down the corridor, checking rooms as he went. The place was dark and musty. The furniture was old. Ty guessed it was probably the stuff that Gretchen’s parents had bought when they’d first bought the place.
Ty stepped into a living room. There were two couches and a piano. The piano was covered with framed pictures of Gretchen’s father. There were several pictures of Gretchen and her sister with him. There was one picture of what Ty guessed was her mother.
Something else stood out about the photographs. No one was smiling.
Ty walked back out, and continued on down the corridor. Near the back of the house, he reached a closed door. He could hear Gretchen behind the door. Her voice was high pitched and agitated. She was practically screaming.
“I’m warning you, Missy. I have lawyers.”
Ty hesitated. This
didn’t seem like a good time, especially as he had just walked in. Then again, what the hell was he scared of? What was she going to do? Give him detention? Send him down to the barn with Ruth and Mary?
He knocked at the door.
On the other side, Gretchen fell silent for a moment.
“I have to go,” he heard her say. “I suggest that in future you talk to our attorney.”
The door opened. Gretchen stood there. She looked beyond angry. Her lips thinned, her nostrils flared. Her hands were down by her side, her hands bunched into fists.
“Sorry for intruding like this, but I didn’t think you could hear me.”
“What do you want?” she spat.
“I thought that you’d want to know that we’ve finished searching all the dorms, but we didn’t find it.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Gretchen.
“And why is that?” Ty asked her.
“You’re new here. You don’t know what these young people are capable of. The deceit. The lies. The manipulation.”
Gretchen was correct. He didn’t think they were that bad. Not from what he’d seen. They seemed like a fairly regular bunch of kids, with all the good and bad that entailed.
“Anyway, I thought that maybe we could search the other buildings.”
A fresh tic of irritation flitted across Gretchen’s face. “That’s what you thought, is it?”
What was this woman’s problem? Ty took a breath.
“Yes, Ma'am. If whoever took my gun case is as cunning as you say then they could have snuck off to hide it. Don’t you think?”
“You know, if you’d just told me that you had a firearm, I could have stored it for you. I have a gun safe. It’s very secure, and hidden away from prying eyes.”
Ty made a mental note. Not that having a gun safe was anything out of the ordinary. In isolated parts of the country like this, gun ownership was common, often for good reason.