by Gayle Wilson
“The Web site wasn’t put up from Andrea’s computer,” he went on. “Nor did any of the postings to it originate there.”
Despite the overwhelming emotions of the day, she felt a sense of vindication. Andrea hadn’t put up that profile.
“But even if they can give you information about the computer from which they did originate, you don’t have the authority to search for it?” Jace had already told her no judge would issue a warrant based on guesswork.
“If I knew why they did it, I might be able to figure out the who.”
“You said it before. A form of bullying. Harassment.”
“But why Andrea?”
“Because…” She hesitated, unwilling to put what she was thinking into words. Not about the girl they’d just buried this afternoon. “Because they believed they could. They thought she wouldn’t go to the authorities. And she didn’t. Maybe that’s why she came to my room that afternoon, but in the end—” In the end, she’d chosen to go home and permanently escape the persecution rather than tell anyone what was going on. “The bottom line is she was vulnerable,” she added softly. “And whoever did this understood that.”
“Are you surprised at the level of sophistication involved in that decision?”
“To target Andrea? To teens the kind of vulnerability the Andreas of this world display is like blood in the water. The sharks sense it long before anyone else.”
“Not the analogy I would use,” Jace said, “but for what it’s worth, I think you’re probably right. She was picked because she made the perfect victim. And I think she reacted just the way they expected. Just the way they wanted her to.”
Twenty
“I just don’t want any of you to get caught up in the emotions that ran rampant yesterday.” Shannon was perched, as she had been for the last two hours, on the edge of Lindsey’s desk, talking earnestly to her seniors.
Even before the funeral, they had agreed that the kids in the gifted program would probably be most in need of some extra attention today. And that, given their reaction to the county’s grief counselors, Shannon was the ideal person to provide it.
“It may seem that Andrea is somehow better off, but you’ve got your whole lives in front of you, lives full of endless possibilities and opportunities. Tragically, hers is now over. You have to remember that suicide is a very permanent solution, especially for problems that are often only temporary.”
Someone near the back of the room said something that elicited a spatter of laughter. It was so out of place in the prevailing atmosphere, even the students looked shocked.
“I didn’t quite catch that, Justin. Would you care to repeat it for the rest of us?”
Although Shannon’s voice seemed controlled, Lindsey had known her long enough to sense the underlying fury.
“Not really,” the boy said, causing another wave of low laughter from the guys around him.
“I’d appreciate it if you would. No one likes being left out of the joke.”
Lindsey wondered if she should step in. This was her classroom. She had an obligation to make sure a guest in it, which Shannon was today, would be treated with respect.
She hesitated only because she knew Shannon well enough to know she wouldn’t see it that way. Nor would she appreciate any interference in the way she was handling this.
“Survival of the fittest,” Justin said.
“I beg your pardon?” Shannon seemed genuinely shocked at the callousness of the remark.
“It’s Darwin, Ms. Anderson. Theory of evolution. Those who are fit to survive do so. Those who aren’t fit…” Justin shrugged. “It insures the continuation of the species.”
“And how does that possibly fit this situation?”
Justin smiled, but he didn’t bother to make any further explanation. The point he had made about Andrea’s death—and her life—wouldn’t be lost on this group.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Justin?”
Shannon slid off the edge of the desk and walked down the aisle toward him. Every eye in the classroom followed her progress, including those of the boy she was questioning.
“I think everybody got it, Ms. Anderson.”
“I didn’t. Why don’t you explain to me what you meant?”
“I’m not into trashing the deceased.”
“Really? I think you just did.”
Justin’s brows lifted, but his smile didn’t fade. Not even with Shannon looming over his desk.
The bell rang, but for several seconds no one moved. Finally Justin picked up his notebook and reached under his desk for the rest of his books. When he had them, he started to stand, but Shannon stepped to the side of his desk so that he couldn’t get out without physically pushing her out of the way.
Unsure whether or not her friend was trying to force him to do that, Lindsey decided it was time to intervene. She stood, pitching her voice so that it was clear she was addressing the entire class.
“Justin, why don’t you stay for a few minutes? I’d like to talk to you. The rest of you can go.”
As she had hoped, her request broke the tension. It took only a few seconds for the room to clear.
As the last of her seniors exited, Lindsey walked over to the door to stop the first of the next class from entering. “Y’all give me a couple of minutes. Okay? Just tell everybody to wait out here until I open the door.”
When the two kids standing outside nodded, their eyes wide, she pulled the door closed, shutting off the noise from the hall. Then she turned to where Shannon and Justin were still engaged in their standoff.
“You’ll give me a pass?” Justin asked Lindsey, ignoring the woman beside his desk. “I’ve got a calculus quiz.”
“I’ll give you a pass. Don’t you think what you said just now was pretty insensitive?”
“It’s biology. Suicide is stupid. Especially at sixteen. You both said it yourselves. She had her whole life ahead of her, and she threw it away.”
“But to relate her death to Darwin?” Shannon questioned.
“Like I said. Suicide is stupid. Andrea’s genes aren’t going to contaminate the gene pool. Survival of the fittest.”
“You little shit.” The counselor’s last word was hissed.
“Shannon!”
She turned her head to look at Lindsey, green eyes glistening with tears. Lindsey wasn’t sure if those were caused by grief or anger. What she was sure of was that her friend was too emotional right now to handle this situation.
“Go,” she said. “Get some coffee. Or go outside. Just…Get out of here for a little while.”
She thought Shannon might argue, but she nodded instead. Without looking at Justin again, she walked back to Lindsey’s desk and picked up her purse. “Can you handle next period?”
Lindsey nodded. “Go on. It’s okay.”
“And him?”
“I’ll handle him, too. Go.”
As Shannon walked past, she reached out and squeezed Lindsey’s arm. Then she opened the door, again letting the noise from the hallway into the room. Not until it was closed again did Lindsey turn to face the boy she’d promised to “handle.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising her. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I didn’t even know Andrea.”
“We’re all on edge. Emotionally, I mean. But…What you said did come across as disrespectful.”
“My dad says it. Not about suicide necessarily. Whenever anybody does anything stupid that costs them their lives, he says it’s nature’s way of protecting the gene pool.”
“Except Andrea was very bright. Just very troubled.”
“Look, I really am sorry. You want me to apologize to the class tomorrow?”
“Let me think about that. It might be a case of less said, soonest mended.”
The boy nodded. “And Ms. Anderson?”
“Maybe in a day or two. Not today, okay? Think you can make calculus?”
“I can make it.”
“Then go. And tel
l the others they can come in now.”
Justin didn’t meet her eyes as he walked toward the door. As soon as he opened it, she started toward her desk. She’d told Shannon she’d handle talking to her juniors. Now that she was actually faced with the prospect, especially after the tension of the last few minutes, she needed a moment to compose herself. Not that she was likely to get it.
“Justin in trouble?” Tim Harrison asked.
Maybe he should be, but surprisingly Lindsey believed his apology had been sincere. And she’d found herself responding more positively to him because of it than she ever had before.
She smiled at the boy. “Not really. How are you?”
“Okay. Rough week.”
“Yes, it has been. We’re going to talk about it.”
“Ms. Anderson coming back?”
The student grapevine had obviously spread the word that Shannon was talking to her gifted classes. Eventually it would also broadcast the incident from last period. There was nothing Lindsey could do to prevent that.
She wanted to go check on Shannon. Make sure she was all right. It seemed that since they’d heard about Andrea, her friend had been teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Right now, however…
“Not this period,” she said to Tim. “She had some other things she’s committed to.”
“So it’ll be just us.”
“Just us,” Lindsey said, smiling at him again.
“That’s good.”
For a fraction of a second, she wondered about the comment. Then, in the rush of incoming students, she dismissed the idea that the remark might have had any significance beyond the commonplace it appeared to be.
After school Lindsey stuck her head in the door of the guidance suite. No students waited in the outer part of the suite, and no sounds came from either of the offices.
She walked to the door of Shannon’s office, which was open, but the room was empty. Her briefcase and purse were gone. After a quick scan of the room, Lindsey went on to the next. She tapped on the open door, causing Beth Taylor to look up from whatever she was working on.
“Hey. Looking for Shannon?”
“Yeah.”
“She said you’d come check on her. She left about one o’clock. She said to tell you to come by her house this afternoon. And to stop at the state store on the way.”
“Is she okay?”
“I think we’re all holding it together as well as we can. All I know is I’ll be very glad when this week is over.”
“You want to come over, too? You know Shannon won’t care.”
“Wish I could. I have to pick Jason up and drive him to Dothan to get a shot. It’s always something.”
Beth had a three-year-old who stayed with her mother-in-law during the day. Her husband was the junior high football coach. Lindsey doubted she saw much of him this time of year.
“Is he sick?”
“He’s fine. Booster. Wish it were any day but this. If you have any booze left, I’ll join you tomorrow.”
“Deal. Drive carefully.”
“I’m not the one who’s going to be drinking,” Beth said with a smile. “Of course, you can always call the cops if you don’t want to drive home, I guess.”
“What?”
“Joke, Lindsey. The word is out.”
“About what?”
“About you and that New York detective. You’re still seeing him, aren’t you?”
“We’re…” Lindsey paused, unsure how to characterize their relationship. Put in the simplest terms, she was indeed “still seeing him.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to be nosey. More power to you. Good men are few and far between around here.”
“You got one of them.”
“Yeah, except this time of year. Then the team’s got him. I shouldn’t complain. As my grandmama used to say, at least he puts his shoes under my bed at night.”
If the truth were known, Lindsey had always envied women with that surety. Despite that fact she was sleeping with a man she was admittedly in the process of falling in love with, she had no idea whether that kind of commitment was in her future.
“Y’all have fun.” Beth’s eyes fell to her papers.
Something she might need to finish before she picked up her son, Lindsey realized. “Okay, you take care.”
“You, too. And see if you can get Shannon to talk. She’s got all this bottled up inside. She needs somebody to listen.”
“I will. I promise. See you tomorrow.”
Beth’s attention had already returned to her work. As Lindsey walked back through the suite, she took her phone out of her purse and punched in Jace’s number. When she got his voice mail, she hit the off button without leaving a message.
If she ended up staying late at Shannon’s, she’d give him a call. With the hours he’d been working, Jace wouldn’t be back at the apartment until after 7:00 p.m. And he might actually like the opportunity to spend some time there without her.
Concentrating on putting her phone back into her purse, she almost walked into Jay Burke. The choral director caught her shoulders, preventing a collision.
“Heads up, Linds.” Good friends with Shannon, Jay had picked up the nickname. “I’ve heard of walking around with your head in the clouds, but I’ve never seen it until now.”
“I was putting my cell away.”
“And just who might you be calling?” Jay arched a brow.
“I’m heading over to Shannon’s,” she said, avoiding a direct answer. “You want to come? There will be booze.”
“Wish I could. I have rehearsal. Dave didn’t want us to cancel any activities. Keep their minds on something positive.”
That was probably a good idea. Her Scholars’ Bowl team’s match had been cancelled by virtue of the early dismissal yesterday. She planned to meet with them as scheduled on Thursday. Exactly one week after Andrea’s visit to her room, she realized, which seemed to have taken place an eternity ago.
“Walt find you?” Jay asked.
“Walt Harrison? I didn’t know he was looking.”
“He came into the office maybe…ten minutes ago. Asked if you’d signed out.”
She hadn’t, she realized. She’d been too consumed with checking on Shannon. “Any idea what he wanted?”
She could guess. Despite what Walt had told Jace, they both knew she hadn’t been mistaken about what she’d overheard. It had had nothing to do with boosters.
“You teach Tim. Maybe he wants to talk grades or assignments or some difficulty he’s having with your course.”
“There’s little likelihood of that with Tim.”
“Then…I don’t have a clue. He’ll probably find you tomorrow. Go have fun.”
Jay was right. If Walt had something to say to her about the lie he’d told, he could track her down. She hadn’t promised him confidentiality. And he shouldn’t expect it.
Of course, Walt might not be aware of all that had happened or of the importance of telling Jace the truth about the rumors he’d been referring to. There’d been little talk about the snake incident or, surprisingly, even about the stadium fire. The first had been overshadowed by Andrea’s death, and she herself had downplayed the latter, which had been blamed on faulty wiring.
Undecided, she watched Jay walk away in the direction of the choral room. Walt might still be in his room. Or, since she hadn’t signed out yet, he might be looking for her in hers. She glanced at her watch. It was already 3:20 p.m. Walt had probably given up, and Shannon and the state store were waiting.
She turned toward the main office, walking quickly now that the decision had been made. Even Melanie had left for the day, she discovered when she entered. Dave’s door was closed, but he often worked there long after everyone else had gone.
She signed out and then walked around the counter to the rows of teacher cubbyholes. As usual, hers was stuffed with tardy and check-out slips for her homeroom students and a few memorandums. She glanced at those, stuffing them back i
nto the box for tomorrow. As she did, she noticed a folded piece of paper that had been hidden under one of the tardies.
She took it out, flipping it open with one hand. In neat block letters, someone had printed: IF YOU SEE THIS BEFORE YOU LEAVE, COME DOWN TO MY ROOM. WE NEED TO TALK. It was unsigned.
We need to talk… She replayed the conversation she’d overheard between Walt and Dave. Although, as she’d told Jace, she couldn’t remember it word-for-word, she also couldn’t make anything about it match the story Walt had told him.
Maybe Walt felt he owed her an explanation, but after the last few days, she wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Not now.
She closed the note and slid it back among the other papers in her cubbyhole. Childish, perhaps, but if Walt came back to see if she’d read it, he wouldn’t be able to tell.
She thought about changing the time she’d signed out before she realized that, despite the fact that was after he’d left the note, Walt couldn’t know that she’d come behind the counter to check her mailbox. She could talk to him tomorrow, she decided. Clear up whatever the misunderstanding was.
Except, if she left without seeing him, she’d wonder what he’d wanted. To come clean about the lie? If that were the case, it would be more appropriate to talk to the police.
Maybe he wanted to try and pressure her into recanting her version of the conversation. Or to explain why his version didn’t match hers. In any case…
She walked around the counter and down the hall toward Dave’s office. Surely Jace had verified Walt’s story with the principal. And if he hadn’t, she needed to do that before she listened to what Walt had to say.
She tapped lightly on the door. She waited several seconds before she tapped again, more forcefully this time. There was still no answer.
She reached down, her finger seeming to wrap of their own accord around the knob. She hesitated briefly before she tried to turn it and found it locked.
Dave was as exhausted as the rest of them. Maybe, like Shannon, he’d left early. If so, she couldn’t blame him.
Although the faculty had had to deal with the still-grieving students today, the responsibility for the well-being of the entire school fell to the principal. If anything else happened, Dave would be the one who’d be blamed, fair or not.