The Suicide Club

by Gayle Wilson

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Where, Jace? Where do we ever go from here?”

  “Right now, outside. Eventually…Eventually we go home.”

  Whether that was something they’d do together was one more thing only Lindsey knew the answer to. And all he could do was wait for her to figure it out.

  “Most of what we know came from the Phillips girl, who on the advice of her lawyer is being very cooperative. She’s got nothing to lose and maybe leniency, given her age, to gain.”

  Jace had had one of the deputies take Lindsey to her parents’ house while he’d stayed behind at the school to put together the timeline and motivations for today’s attack. Apparently his role had included interviewing those who’d been involved in the lunchroom standoff, including Jean Phillips. Although it was almost four, he’d told her this was the first chance he’d had to call.

  Jace had already given her the death toll. Each victim someone she’d known. Someone she’d interacted with every day.

  One of the assistant principals, Lucas Colbert, who’d been unlucky enough to encounter Justin as he was bringing his “project” into the vocational wing of the building, had died from a single shot from Colonel Carr’s Beretta. Melanie Perrin, the registrar, who’d entered the office through its back door, had been killed as she’d unlocked its front. The two deputies who’d responded to the call from the maintenance man had been gunned down as they’d entered the building. Other than Steven and Justin, only one student, Mary DeWitt, had died.

  Colbert’s intervention had put the timetable of the attack off track. Most of the students the three had targeted hadn’t even arrived at the school before it was all over. Those names, according to Jace, included kids prominent in school society—popular, involved, attractive. Many of them were among Lindsey’s students.

  “What could those students have possibly done to them to justify the kind of rampage they planned?” Lindsey questioned. Renee’s inclusion was especially hard for her to understand, given the girl’s innate kindness.

  “Some perceived slight. Simple jealousy. But in most school shootings, no matter the targets, the ultimate victims hinge primarily on opportunity. Mary DeWitt was the unfortunate exception.”

  “I thought there was some kind of budding romance there. Between her and Steven.”

  “Byrd did, too. The Phillips girl says Mary had rebuffed his attentions, so he put her on the list the three of them composed over the weekend. He knew she got to school early. He was waiting for her when she got out of her car.”

  “And he shot her?” The first shots she’d heard occurred after Steven came into her room, but maybe in the parking lot—

  “He stabbed her, pushed her body back into the car, and locked it. Then he came into the school to wait for Justin. We didn’t find Mary until we were clearing the lot.”

  Then Steven had killed Mary before he’d come to her room. The barrier she’d worried about had already been broken.

  “Steven said he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life in jail. That they were going out in a blaze of glory. What changed? Was it because you talked to Justin again?”

  “It started to unravel when they killed David Campbell. To give them credit, they were smart enough to know that.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “We think he surprised them inside Shannon’s house. There’s precedent for that, remember.”

  The snake in her hamper. Lindsey wondered briefly what they’d planned to do at Shannon’s. Another warning? Or had the drug they’d brought with them been intended for the counselor?

  “Do you think that what they did to Dave they intended to do to her? Because Justin knew she saw through his act?”

  “Jean says she wasn’t involved in Campbell’s murder. She may not have been. Like the others, her parents apparently kept her on a tight leash. We’re trying to determine if Steven’s mother was working that night.”

  “You think he’s the one who broke into my place?”

  What role had his supposed crush on her played into that? Or any of this? Assuming, of course, Justin had been telling the truth. It was clear he’d been trying to divert attention from himself and willing to throw Steven to the dogs to do it.

  “Probably. According to the coroner, the drug he believes was used on Campbell is a staple in hospitals.”

  “And Steven’s mother is a nurse.”

  “That’s not reflected on his permanent record, by the way.”

  “She probably wasn’t working when he provided the information. They do that at the start of their sophomore year. Steven’s dad walked out on them sometime around that time, and she was forced to go back to work.” Although emergency contact cards were updated at the first of school, other than posting grades and disciplinary actions, the permanent records weren’t. “But…she wouldn’t have stolen drugs for them, believe me.”

  “Steven’s been doing some volunteering there. He was familiar with the medication system. And we’ve verified his mom had keys to the cabinets, based on her position.”

  “For the community service component of his scholarship applications,” Lindsey spoke her realization aloud.

  “What?”

  “That’s why he volunteered at the hospital. Scholarship committees want someone who’s well-rounded. For kids who aren’t athletic, and Steven wasn’t, the other things they look at can become more important. His mother probably helped him get the position.”

  “I haven’t talked to her yet, but I will. And to Carr. I understand he’s concerned now that someone might sue because his guns were used. He’s called the sheriff twice to detail his security arrangements, but he has yet to say he’s sorry for his son’s actions or take responsibility for them. Or the weapons.”

  “My bet is he won’t. I’m sure that in his book he did everything he was supposed to. We’ll be the ones to blame. Justin was bullied or belittled or misunderstood. We failed to protect him until his only option was to strike back.” Lindsey made no attempt to hide her bitterness. She’d heard that, or some variation on the theme, too many times before.

  “With the church fires as a prelude, he’ll have a hard time making that case. Justin liked to demonstrate how much smarter he was than everyone else. Who do you think he learned that from?”

  Jace was right. That sense of superiority had been taught at home in innocuous doses like the “survival of the fittest” comment. Shannon had been right in thinking it was significant.

  And once more she’d been wrong. Tragically wrong.

  “And Andrea? Tim? Was that what they were doing when they targeted them? Trying to prove how brilliant they were?”

  “In a way. And it seemed foolproof. No one would know where those rumors had originated. If they didn’t work, they’d lost nothing but a little time. If they succeeded, they couldn’t be blamed for that success. And it would have been a good substitute for the rush they’d gotten from the fires.”

  “Two for two. Were they really that smart?”

  “Jean knew about Andrea’s depression. Even the cutting. They went to church together and had been close at one time. When their friendship fell apart, she was able to use what she knew to do the damage. Apparently she even suggested the youth minister at their church talk to Andrea about her promiscuity. All out of concern for her friend’s soul, of course.”

  It was exactly as Jace had characterized it. Diabolical.

  “And Tim?” According to Walt, no one had known about his son’s secret. They both had felt there was no one in this community who could be trusted to keep it.

  “Jean says that came from Justin. I’m not sure how he knew…could have just been a lucky guess.”

  Despite not having been raised here, Justin understood this community’s mores well enough to push all the buttons that must have driven Tim to think he had no option but take his own life.

  “So damn needless.”

  “Tim’s death?”

  “Everything. All o
f it. All of them.”

  Their brains aren’t done…

  “You need to let this go, Lindsey. Let them go. The sole responsibility for what happened here lies with the three who set this into motion.”

  And two of them were dead. “What will happen to Jean?”

  “She’ll be tried, probably as an adult. They’re sorting through possible charges. Although she didn’t fire any shots today, she was certainly an accessory.”

  “I heard on the news that she didn’t set off the explosives in the lunchroom. That must count for something.” As the words came out of her mouth, Lindsey realized that she was again defending someone who no longer deserved her defense.

  “They weren’t real. That’s probably what Justin had been putting together in the basement this weekend. Thankfully, being the son of a lieutenant colonel didn’t give him access to C4. Still, they needed something to control the hostages they planned to take in the lunchroom, so they faked it.”

  “Then the bomb I took away from Jean—”

  “Was a box wrapped in several layers of newspaper.”

  More deception. And she’d fallen for all of it.

  “I have to go,” Jace said. “I’ll call you later. You’re going to be all right there, aren’t you?”

  “I’m fine.” Her parents had been glued to the television, but she’d had to take the coverage in small amounts. It was still too real. Too up close and personal. It always would be.

  “Why did Justin come out of the lunchroom? I’ve thought about that all day, and I still can’t figure it out. Why not stay there and make them come in and take him?”

  “I don’t think there was anybody in there Justin really wanted. Nobody whose death would give him a sense of achievement. None of that glory Steven talked about.”

  That had been their avowed goal. Was that why Steven had come upstairs to get her?

  “Was I on their list, Jace?”

  “Does it matter? Whoever was on it—”

  “Were you?” Like poor Mary, had she unwittingly made Steven feel rejected? Because of her relationship with Jace? Could they have known how serious that had become?

  In a town where there are no secrets? she mocked her own question. I knew the first night you slept with him, Linds.

  “Lindsey—”

  “Never mind.” Did she really need to hear him say it?

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? For saving my life? And who knows how many others. You have nothing to apologize for. Not to anyone.”

  “Neither do you. You need to believe that.”

  “I’ll work on it. I promise. And now I need to let you get back to work.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t let this change who you are.”

  She smiled, thinking about all the ways it already had. “I’ll work on that one, too. And while I am, you take care.”

  She didn’t add the words she’d said to him this morning. He’d heard them then. If they’d meant anything to him, then the next step was up to him.

  Jace had tossed his jacket over a chair and headed straight for the cabinet where he kept the Scotch. Then, decanter in one hand and a glass in the other, he’d been about to pour the first drink of what might be several, when his doorbell rang.

  For a second or two he considered ignoring it, but there were too many loose ends that hadn’t been tied up to his satisfaction. If someone had come up with the answers he’d posed in the debriefing, he wanted to know about them.

  Setting the Scotch and the tumbler down, he walked over to the door. After looking out the peephole, he turned the dead bolt and opened it to Lindsey.

  “I thought you might not have had time to eat.”

  The smell emanating from the sack she held reminded him that he hadn’t. And of the last time she’d brought takeout.

  He stepped back, gesturing her inside. Considering what had gone down today, she looked a whole lot better than he felt. He’d thought about going by to check on her on his way home, but had finally decided, as late as it was, that it would be an intrusion. Not to Lindsey, but to her parents, whom he’d never met.

  “Are you all right?” she asked as he secured the door.

  “That should be my line.” He turned, taking time to verify his initial impression that she seemed better than she had on the phone.

  “I haven’t been working on this all day. Despite my parents’ obsession with Fox, I’ve had some distance.”

  “The more time and space, the less consuming it becomes.”

  “The voice of experience.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  He led the way to the kitchen, setting a couple of plates down on the counter. Lindsey watched as he did, but made no effort to put whatever she had in the sack onto them.

  “Soda okay? Or something stronger?”

  “They finally brought me my purse,” she said. “Steven made me leave it in my desk drawer, and I knew they weren’t letting anyone back in. I called and asked them to go up and get it.”

  “If you’d told me—”

  “I didn’t want to bother you. Actually, I thought it was a little…strange that I even thought about it, but it had my driver’s license, of course, so I couldn’t drive. And my cell.”

  As she said the word, the message he’d left on her phone played through his head, the words etched on his memory by the emotions of the moment. He’d been so afraid he’d lose her. Afraid that he’d been too slow to figure it all out. Once again too slow to stop what he knew was going to happen.

  And he almost had. When he’d seen that punk put the muzzle of his weapon against her temple, everything he’d managed to rebuild of his shattered life had hung in the balance.

  One chance. And this time he hadn’t hesitated.

  “I don’t know whether your message was from the stress of the moment,” she said. “If so, I understand. All you have to do is say—”

  “Was that what it was for you? The stress of the moment?”

  When she’d whispered the words she was trying so hard to give him an out for, she’d just laid a bomb on his palms. Did she regret saying them? Or was she just afraid he did?

  “No,” she said simply.

  “Truth be told, Lindsey I’m not particularly eligible. Not by anyone’s standards. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”

  “No,” she said again, her eyes holding his.

  He laughed. “Then you aren’t as bright as I thought.”

  “A quality that just might be overrated. I think sometimes…You said important things sometime turn on a feeling. An investigator’s instinct. From the first, as much as I resented why you were here, I was glad you were.”

  “I don’t know that this can ever be home. I can’t go back to the place that is, but I know how important home is to you.”

  “You’re important to me. And if you meant what you said in that message, then nothing else really matters.”

  “It will. Eventually. Your family. Friends. Your job.”

  “The irony is that until today I might have agreed with you. Now…” She shook her head. “I just want to grow old with you. Somewhere safe. Somewhere we can send our kids to school and not have to worry if they’ll come home. Where we can walk into our house at night and not be afraid of the dark.”

  “The dark’s always out there, Lindsey. There isn’t any place where those things don’t happen. Even here.”

  “That’s why what you do is so important to you. I understand that now. Important enough that whatever happened to you before didn’t keep you from going back to your job.”

  “Maybe another quality that’s overrated. What I did was for me. I needed to know if I could face what I feared. I needed to know the next time I wouldn’t make the same mistake.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  She nodded. “And now that you know that?”

  “I have to decide if I need to do it
again. And if there are other, better reasons for it if I do.”

  “I don’t know that I can do that. I don’t ever want to go back to what happened today. Or to the weeks before it.”

  “Nobody will judge you if you don’t.”

  “Maybe you won’t, but to me, it’s the coward’s way out.”

  “You’re not a coward, Lindsey.”

  “I don’t know if I can ever walk into a classroom without wondering which of them is capable of what happened today.”

  “Fair enough. You don’t owe anybody. Do something else.”

  “Be a greeter at Wal-Mart.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what Shannon always threatens to do when she can’t take the little darlings anymore. Right now…”

  “Right now, you need to give yourself some time.”

  “How long did it take you?”

  “I’m a slow learner.”

  “Sorry, that’s not my specialty.”

  “What is?” His grin emphasized his meaning.

  “You know all of them. Such as they are.”

  “That’s right. You’re the gifted coordinator. Highly gifted, I might add.”

  “Thank you. Actually, thank you for everything.”

  “Don’t get grateful and serious on me. Neither one of us needs that. Not tonight.”

  “Barbeque?”

  “Eventually,” he said, taking the sack from her and putting it down on the counter.

  “I’ve got to stop bringing food over here. It’s a waste.”

  “I thought it was a bribe,” he said as he took her into his arms. “Police corruption.”

  “As long as it works.”

  His lips closed over hers, swallowing the last word. And it was a long time later before either of them spoke again.

  “I liked the part about sending our kids to school.” Jace ran his thumb over the moisture left on her bottom lip.

  Maybe not in Randolph, given the memories that would haunt both of them here. But not so far away that those children she’d mentioned wouldn’t have grandparents. Someone who would love them and nurture them and help them become the kind of person Lindsey was. Someone to balance his cynicism. And someone willing to babysit for the occasional weekend away.