Secret of the Sevens

by Lynn Lindquist

  Boyle ignores it. “I have copies of this already. Kane, what’s your point?”

  Kane sets his drink down and makes himself comfortable on the couch, stretching his long arms across the back of the sofa. “The newer board members already agreed in private to support me in selling the school and company, but my attorney Katherine Jones believes a few of the old-timers will put up a fight. They’d never allow the company to be sold if they thought it’d jeopardize William Singer’s vision for his precious school.”

  Headmaster Boyle chuckles. “Well, doesn’t it? The deed was written to ensure the school could continue to help underprivileged students.”

  “The deed also gave the Board the authority to decide what’s in the best interest of the company, as long as it protects the school,” Kane says. “Singer School will still exist, just in the form a private boarding school. As long as we keep a decent number of scholarship and charity cases, we can still claim Singer as a philanthropic institution. Once we convince the Board that the changes are worthwhile, we’re set. We only have one loophole to close.”

  “What loophole?”

  Kane twists a large gold ring on his finger. “As you know, William Singer included a clause in his will that assigned several unnamed students as trust protectors—the infamous Society of Seven. If the Sevens ever felt that the Board was making a decision that’d hurt their school, they could present the Trust Protector Document at a board meeting and take over as trustee, essentially firing the Board of Directors.”

  Boyle checks the time on his watch. “So what’s the problem? The Sevens are long gone and the Pillars are in your pocket.”

  “But the Pillars are only substitutes for the Sevens. Singer specifically mentioned the Society of Seven in his will and the deed. They’re the actual trust protectors. The issue is, Singer left the individual Sevens’ names out ‘for their protection,’ stating that the Sevens only needed to present the Trust Protector Document at a board meeting to assert their authority. Consequently, anyone claiming to be a Seven could present that TPD document and complicate this deal.”

  “I thought that no one knows where the TPD is?”

  “They don’t, as far as I know. Carmine Rathbone drew up the original document for Singer. Rathbone told police that Singer said he was going to hide the TPD until he finished mentoring the Society of Seven. I’ve scoured the school and offices myself and found nothing. As long as that TPD remains lost, we’re golden. My legal team has worked out everything else.”

  “So you have no problem kicking out underprivileged and abused kids?” Boyle asks.

  “Don’t act like you care about these delinquents, Matthew. I happen to know that you hate your job here.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  “Katherine Jones told me.”

  “So you’re working with Katherine,” Boyle says. “When did that happen?”

  “I hired her as legal counsel when I became Chairman. She worked under Carmine Rathbone and was very familiar with Singer Enterprises. Turns out we have quite a lot in common.”

  “Your love of money?”

  “Not entirely. We both started out with nothing and earned our success. There’s nothing wrong with a wealthy lifestyle, Matthew. Give it a try. I heard you’re sick of hassling with students and child welfare agencies and having nothing but a pathetic paycheck to show for it. Katherine’s the one who suggested we garner your support. You should be grateful to her. Half a million is a pretty generous stipend for someone in your shoes.”

  Boyle presses his linked fingers to his mouth and considers Kane’s words. He tilts his head. “What would you need me to do?”

  Kane’s eyes brighten. “The Board holds your opinion in high regard. When they ask for your input, I need you to support me wholeheartedly. Make a convincing argument and back it with whatever educational studies or nonsense you can. I don’t know … argue that it’s healthier for underprivileged and at-risk students to be mainstreamed with children of different social classes. Pretend it has something to do with diversity or fitting into society. I don’t care what line you use, just sell them on the idea.”

  Boyle taps his mouth with his hands and thinks. Then his slitted eyes lift to Kane’s. “I want six.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Six hundred thousand dollars. With early retirement and a significant raise when the school goes private.”

  Kane’s mouth snakes into a twisted grin. “I’ll see what I can work out. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Don’t take too long.” Boyle shifts to his trademark scowl. “Or I may decide I want seven.”

  Kane holds out his scarred hand for Boyle to shake, but Boyle ignores it. He pushes himself up and out of his seat. “I have meeting to get to. I’m sure you can find your way out.”

  Boyle strolls out of the room without a backward glance. A second later, a door slams in the distance.

  Left alone now, Kane parades around the empty room, taking in his surroundings like he just won them in a poker bet. He refills his glass of liquor and walks right up to the one-way mirror.

  Everyone freezes. Does he suspect we’re here?

  Kane ambles along the front of the mantle, lifts a picture of William Singer off one end, and smirks at the photograph. His upper lip curls. “That’s what you get for picking the wrong Sevens.”

  He grabs his coat and glides out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Thirty

  Jose steps backward, his voice trembling. “What exactly did we just witness?”

  Kollin’s lips pale into a tight line. “We just watched the devil make a deal for our school. I can’t believe frickin’ Boyle would sell us out like that.”

  “He’s always been a scumbag,” I say.

  “To you maybe,” he snaps.

  “They’re turning Singer School into a private school for rich kids?” Jose asks. “That’s as far from its purpose as you can get. They can’t do that, can they?”

  “Apparently. You heard Kane. He’s got a team of lawyers making sure everything is legal.”

  “What about Kane’s comment that he’s behind the vandalism?” Emily says. “Talan, what exactly did you tell Cameron?”

  “I said something after I got the invitation. I had no idea this was real at the time; I thought the Pillars were pranking me. I told Cameron I knew about the Sevens and that he was screwing the wrong person. That’s it, I swear. I didn’t know enough to say anything else. I hadn’t even returned the invitation yet. You heard Kane—they’re just being careful.”

  “You said enough to put us in danger,” Kollin says.

  “They don’t even suspect you, Kollin! Kane named a couple of my buddies that aren’t even involved in this. If the Pillars are watching them, they aren’t gonna find anything anyway.”

  “He’s also watching you. You’re putting us all at risk.”

  Laney jumps between us. “Talan had no idea what this was back then.” She looks at all of us. “We can’t waste time fighting. Our friends, all the younger kids here—they need us.”

  “Fine,” Kollin says. “Well, at least we know why we’re here now. The Sevens are being resurrected to find that Trust Protector Document and present it at the December board meeting before Kane sells our school.”

  “No problem,” I snort. “Except for one thing. How the hell are we supposed to do that?”

  “We’ll figure it out.” Laney’s wide smile seems out of place. “We just have to work together.”

  Jose shakes his head. “This whole thing is so … I thought the Sevens were just a … a … secret gang. The invitation talked about granting our desires and getting rewarded. I thought it’d be a gang where we made some money and broke some rules. I didn’t think—”

  Laney cuts him off. “Man up, Aguilar. Did you expect to get a Great Reward for partying at a secret clubhouse and learning a secret handshake? You read what the invitation said: ‘To whom much is given, much is expected.’ This is about our ho
me, Jose.” She jabs him hard in the chest. “Your home. My home. The home of two thousand kids—most of whom have no other place to go. This may be the most important thing you ever do in your life. Don’t you dare quit now.”

  Jose answers in a whisper. “I didn’t say I was gonna quit.” He stands there, red-faced and nodding at Laney, his chin dropped like he was squared with a sucker punch.

  Sweet little Delaney Shanahan just brought the ruckus. She’s standing there all bossy, with her chest out and her hands on her hips. It’s probably a good thing LeDouche opens his annoying mouth right then. His know-it-all tone kills the mood before I start breathing heavy on his girlfriend.

  “Delaney’s right,” he says. “We owe it to Mr. Singer and our friends to see this through. If there’s something we can do to save our school, and the Sevens obviously think there is, then we need to figure it out. ASAP.”

  I hate that I agree with Kollin LeBeau almost as much as I hate that we’re working as a team now. I turn my attention back to the one-way mirror and stare off into the abandoned room. I take a step closer and lean in. “They left it.”

  Laney turns my way. “What’d you say?”

  “They left it.” I point to the side table next to Boyle’s chair. “The copy of the deed. We should take it. Maybe we can use it for evidence or something.”

  The four of them peer through the window at the envelope forgotten on the table.

  “Are you crazy?” Kollin says. “You can’t steal that. They’ll know someone was in here.”

  “They’ll never miss it. Boyle left first—he’ll just think Kane took it with him, if he even remembers it. And Kane left without thinking twice about it. He’ll assume Boyle threw it out since he has copies. They’d never miss it.”

  “The Sevens never said anything about taking anything. This is your idea, not theirs,” Kollin says.

  “It’s a good idea!” Everyone jumps when Laney speaks. “We might need it as evidence someday, or maybe it has some other information that could help. How do we get it? I’ll do it.”

  Kollin scolds her. “Laney, you’re not serious.”

  “I think we can get in through the fireplace,” I say. “This metal thing is probably the way into the headmaster’s house. Think about it. There’s no chimney behind this fireplace, just this weird box below the one-way mirror.”

  Laney kneels next to the metal structure. “Help me figure this out, Talan.” The two of us unlatch the side hooks, pulling and pressing and pushing the cold steel box until—

  Squeeeeeek.

  The heavy container slides left on rollers hidden underneath. Suddenly, the back half of the fireplace hearth slips to one side, creating an opening into the room. This must be how the Sevens got in to meet with Singer.

  Laney crouches low and creeps through, navigating around the logs in the grate. “Careful,” I warn her. “Don’t get soot on that fancy rug.”

  “It’s decorative. They’re fake logs.” Still, Laney steps out of her shoes before she tiptoes to the end table. She grabs the envelope and rushes back to the fireplace. Slipping her shoes back on, she bends low and climbs back through the opening. As I help her inside, Emily and Kollin slide the box back in place and re-latch the hinges to secure it.

  Laney clutches the envelope tight to her chest. “Ahhhh, my heart is beating like crazy.” Her big-ass grin is aimed at me. “Oh, Talan! That was exciting!”

  The glimmer in her eye makes me laugh. I know exactly how she feels. That rush you get from doing something impulsive and risky.

  Kollin glares at me. He steps forward and pulls Delaney’s fingers away from her shirt, sliding the envelope out. “This better have been worth it.”

  Leave it to LeDouche to ruin a beautiful moment. “Relax, LeBeau.”

  Kollin opens the envelope. “I interned at an attorney’s office last summer. I’ll email my mentor and see if I can get some info about Trust Protector clauses. In the meanwhile, I think we should leave the deed in the secret room below the mausoleum. In fact, if the Pillars are on the lookout, we should probably hide everything there—the clues, the maps, everything that could tie us to the Sevens. Kane isn’t the only one that’s out for us. Headmaster Boyle isn’t exactly on our side either.”

  “I hate to break up the party,” Jose interrupts, “but we need to get out of here. It’s gotta be close to curfew.”

  The five of us hurry down the chute, crawling back through the tunnels and out the staircase. My body finally relaxes when we reach the secret room under the mausoleum.

  It doesn’t last long.

  There’s a huge, yellowed piece of paper taped to the wall now.

  “ A prudent question is one half of wisdom.”

  Dwell on this for your last test,

  When you’re on your own, and all alone,

  Beginning your final quest.

  Knowledge is gained through fact compilation;

  But wisdom is born in its simplification.

  Columns and half clues to find and combine.

  Words that are letters read between the lines.

  Use all you’ve learned, and you’ll solve the last clue.

  Your founder was wise

  In deed,

  Are you?

  Behind me, Laney says, “We’ll wait for the next clue, then. If something comes up before then and we need to talk, Talan and I use this signal where we tug on our ear.”

  “Sounds good,” Kollin says. “Let’s go.”

  We follow him up the stairs, pausing at the top. He peeks out the slit where we returned out invitations. “It’s clear.”

  He presses the hidden button and we straggle through the door in the marble casket. Laney closes it, and one by one we sneak out of the mausoleum and race home.

  When we reach our back door, Laney goes in first. I wait a few minutes and walk in.

  Marcus meets me in the kitchen. “Where you been, man?” He’s pissed.

  “What? At the library.”

  He walks over, looking me up and down. “Really? Is there a lot of mud at the library? ’Cause your shoes are caked. And why did you tell Dad you were working out? I went to the rec center and the stadium, everywhere, looking for you.”

  “What are you, my nanny?”

  “We had plans, remember? You promised to help me with drills.”

  “Oh. Man. I’m sorry. I forgot.”

  “Another lie?”

  “What are you talking about?” I brush past him but he grabs my arm.

  “You said you left the dance early because you and Taylor wanted to be alone. Taylor says you weren’t feeling good and dumped her at her door at nine.”

  “So what?”

  “So she says you’ve been acting weird, and you know what? I agree. When I went by the stadium looking for you tonight, I saw all the damage there. Coach told me what’s going on. They’re talking about canceling the rest of the season. Did you know that? It was Stephen Kane’s suggestion. He says it’ll pressure the students to turn in the perpetrators.”

  “Can they do that over some vandalism?”

  “So you already know about it, huh? That’s odd, considering they kept it under wraps all day. Or did you hear about it ‘at the library’?”

  “Are you accusing me of trashing the stadium?”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. But weird shit is going on and you’re acting strange lately. You’re gone all the time with these lame excuses. You seriously want me to believe you’ve been at the library? You haven’t turned in a single chem assignment all semester.”

  “I wouldn’t trash the football field. You know me better than that. We’ve been friends since third grade.”

  “You’re right. That’s how I know you’re hiding something.” Marcus shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Tal, I know this graduation thing is getting to you. If this is some anger thing, you venting on the school or something, you gotta stop.”

  I look him square in the eyes. “I had nothing to do with the
vandalism. Nothing. I swear on our friendship.”

  “Then where were you? Why all the sneaking around?”

  “Just trust me, okay? I’m not doing anything bad.”

  “Then why can’t you tell me?”

  “I just can’t. Please, Marc. Give me some credit.”

  He drops my arm. “Fine. But no more lies. If the games get canceled, I don’t get scouted. And that means no scholarship. I’m not the only athlete who was counting on that, either. I don’t care if it was my mother—if I find out who ended our season, I’ll personally narc them out to Boyle.”

  Thirty-one

  Rumors spread all morning, but the announcement at lunch makes it official: “Due to recent events and widespread vandalism, the Board has canceled all extracurricular activities for the fall season, pending investigation of these incidents.” Moans rise up across the crowded room. “In addition, the Board of Directors is offering a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of those involved.”

  Kane said he could make things hard for my friends. Score one for the bad guy.

  So why do I feel so guilty when I’m innocent? I stare at Laney’s table and tug my ear when she glances over. She nods toward Kollin, but I shake my head. I really want to talk to her alone. My head is spinning about Marcus and the Sevens and Kane. Laney has a way of slowing the world down.

  I scoop my lunch up. “Where you going now?” Marcus asks. There’s an edge to his voice.

  I’m too flustered to think of an excuse. “I’ve got a meeting with my counselor. I’ll talk to you later.” I rush out and head down the hall.

  I collapse in a chair in Solomon’s room, tapping my fingers to the pounding in my head. The door slowly opens and I finally exhale. But it isn’t Laney.

  Marcus crosses his arms on his chest. “Meeting with your counselor, huh? Does Ms. Bennett rent space from Solomon now?”

  “What are you—”

  “No!” Marcus says. “No more bullshit. I want to know what’s going on. Why are you blowing your friends off, and where do you keep sneaking off to?”

  He’s pissed and he isn’t gonna let this go. I can’t tell him the truth, and my mind is racing too fast to come up with a lie.