Relaxing my head against the back of her office chair, I wondered why the police took hard drives and computer chips for a “prankster” that might not have anything to do with Pringle’s suicide. Anytime there’s an unnatural death the police are called in. But if a suicide had been confirmed, the investigation would be dropped. Unless the death was still considered suspicious.
I tapped my fingers on the leather chair arms and tipped the chair back. Uncle Will wouldn’t tell me diddly about an open investigation, even another department’s. But Luke might play ball, seeing as how he was in a let-me-make-it-up-to-you-baby kind of mood these days.
My eyes slid closed as I contemplated the strategy of asking Luke to reveal police business. I jerked awake at the call of my name.
Assistant Principal Cooke stood before the desk.
My face burned, and I hopped from the chair.
Busted again.
“Sorry.” I rushed over my words. “I was helping Miss Amber and just waiting on the next group of student office workers to show them how to file.”
Brenda Cooke narrowed her eyes into a well-honed principal glare. “I thought you were assisting Mr. Tinsley, not helping in the front office.”
“Yes, that, too.” I smiled wide and patted my chartreuse messenger bag. “We had our brainstorm session, and I was just picturing an underwater alien Verona.”
“Why do I keep finding you in Miss Pringle’s office?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. Bad luck, I guess.”
She glanced at the desk and back to me.
I pressed the scribbling on my arm against my dress.
“Don’t let it happen again,” she said.
Crap, I thought as I trotted out of the office.
This investigation work was trickier than I thought. I walked back to Amber’s desk. “Hey Amber, those students took off before they put away the files and Ms. Cooke just kicked me out of Pringle’s office.”
Amber blew out a sigh. “Figures. They better hire somebody soon or I’m fixing to quit. Ms. Cooke keeps handing me things to do. I can barely keep up with the front office as it is. I didn’t even get lunch.”
“Good luck,” I said. “If I get extra minutes tomorrow, I’ll try to help.”
“Thanks.” She turned back to her computer.
“Cherry.” The squeal came from the visitors’ area.
I recognized the voice by the headache it caused. In a pink knit dress and matching Keds, Tara Mayfield bounced on a chair before the windows.
If Tara had a tail, the school foyer would catch site of it wagging.
“Did you come to pick up your brother?” I asked.
“Sort of.” She popped from her seat to skip to the counter. “I thought you needed help with your sets?”
“Rome wasn’t built in a day, Tara,” I said, sounding very art directory. “We just had our first meeting to brainstorm ideas. Auditions aren’t until tomorrow. I won’t start painting until later this week.”
“Oh.” Her pout caused a rainbow to vanish. “Darn it.”
“Watch your language.” I winked. “We’re in a school.”
Twenty shades of magenta scorched her cheeks.
“By the way,” I said, feeling bad about my teasing. “What’s the deal with your brother?”
“Is Laurence giving you a hard time? I am so sorry. He’s a little different.” Tara pressed her hands together and bowed her head. “I am at a loss at what to do with him. A loss.”
“What do you mean? He’s a teenager. You let him grow up.” Of course, I was at a loss of what to do with my brother, too. But Cody had stolen from my nemesis and declared war on the stepfamily of my ex-boyfriend, stirring a pot of god-awful crap that would hit a fan aimed at me. Laurence was no Cody. “Laurence wasn’t bothering me. I just don’t understand him.”
“I don’t understand him, either,” said Tara. “Why doesn’t he want to get involved?”
“In what?”
“In anything! He spends all his time in his room reading. He doesn’t talk to anyone. I don’t think he has any friends. I’m so worried about him.”
Tara’s agony over her brother jabbed my heart with empathetic needles. “Listen, I’ll keep my eye on him while I’m here. When we start the actual building of the set, feel free to help.”
“Thank you, Cherry.” Tara catapulted across the counter to hug my neck.
The edge of the counter dug into my stomach. I gently shoved her to the ground. “I’ll see you around. I should go work on my sketches.”
“Of course,” she chirped. “By the way, Lukey was much nicer to me today. Whatever you said to him last night must have helped.”
I contained my grimace and fled the school. I wasn’t sure if Lukey would appreciate that thought or not.
On my way home from Peerless, I buzzed my Uncle Will’s number. He picked up on the second ring. Expecting to leave a voicemail, I slipped my flip phone between my shoulder and chin and stumbled through a greeting. “Detective Herrera from Line Creek says to tell you hello.”
“That’s nice,” said Will, “anything else?”
“Did the coroner officially call Maranda Pringle’s death a suicide yet?”
“Get in here,” said Will.
Dammit, I thought and hung up. Letting the phone fall into my lap, I drove the extra twenty minutes to the Sheriff’s Office. I parked and walked into the building, holding a palm up before Tamara could open her surly mouth.
Eyeing my metacarpal stop sign, she folded her arms over her chest. The black G’s on her red fingernails stood out against her firm biceps. “You are one hot mess, Cherry Tucker. What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“Nothing, ma’am,” I said, striding to the doorway to the back rooms.
“Sheriff calls you in for a talking-to, it ain’t nothing.”
“Please just buzz me through.” I stared at the door. “I don’t need an escort.”
“You need a life escort, that’s what you need, Cherry Tucker.”
At her buzz, I yanked on the door and walked down the hall to Uncle Will’s office. I knocked, heard Will’s call to enter, and toddled through. Uncle Will sat behind his desk, his hands folded over his BBQ-bulged belly. Deputy Luke Harper sat in one of the two chairs before his desk. At my entrance, their conversation halted, and Luke turned in his seat.
Pasting on my best customer service smile, I strode forward. Unlike Maranda Pringle’s desk, Uncle Will’s held family photos including one of my siblings and I at my graduation from SCAD. First and only in my family to go to college. And they still wished I had gone to a school with football.
“Hello, gentleman. What can I do you for?” I nodded to each in turn.
“Have a seat, hon’,” said Will. “Deputy Harper tells me you’re doing a little investigative work at the Peerless Day Academy.”
“Yes, sir.” My mind churned, reexamining my time spent at Peerless and what constituted as interference in police business. Other than going through Pringle’s desk, I didn’t think I had done anything untoward. And no one knew about that, except maybe Assistant Principal Brenda Cooke.
Oh, crap, I thought. Did Cooke call Uncle Will? I hated it when the principal called home to tattle.
“I can explain.” I slid back in the chair, letting my boots dangle.
“Explain what?” Luke glanced at Will.
“Am I in trouble?” I kept my eyes on Uncle Will. Could he ground me from going to Peerless?
“That depends on what you’ve done.” Will drew the words out. “Let’s hear it.”
I recognized that tone from my childhood. That particular phrase used to force me into confession, but I had savvied to that lesson by the time I was fifteen. I straightened my spine and smoothed my Mondrian dress.
<
br /> “Besides meeting with the theater class to determine what set to design, not much. But while I was there, a strange announcement went over the PeerNotes wavelengths to everyone in the school.”
“Their social media website?” Uncle Will rocked back in his chair. “Was Detective Herrera there when the message went out?”
“What did the announcement say?” asked Luke.
I crossed my legs, eager to report what I’d learned. They hadn’t called me in to holler at me.
The Sheriff’s Office wanted to know what was going on in the school.
“Some lines from last year’s musical.” I explained the lyrics and how they implicated Tinsley and Ellis Madsen. “I believe Detective Herrera had already left. He confiscated a hard drive from the art rooms and I don’t know what else. Didn’t anybody from the school tell Line Creek PD about the weird PeerNotes announcement?”
Will rubbed his thick neck. “I’ll call and ask them in a minute. You say Herrera confiscated a hard drive?”
“You think it was something to do with the Pringle case, sir?” asked Luke.
“That’s what I wondered.” I bounced in my seat.
“Maybe they were checking computer histories in relation to the Pringle case and something on the art computer sent up a red flag.” Luke raised his brows at Will.
“Well,” said Will, “there’s probable cause for the Pringle case. Wouldn’t need a warrant if the principal gave permission for a search.”
“I have yet to meet Principal Cleveland,” I said. “Haven’t even glimpsed him.”
“Who’s running the show over there?” asked Luke.
“The assistant principal, Brenda Cooke, keeps catching me...” I paused to give my brain a chance to shut my mouth. “The assistant principal is always around.”
The room fell silent except for the popping tick of the overhead clock as both men fell into a meditative stupor. I gave them a minute to collect their thoughts, but I was never one for long bouts of cogitation.
“So why am I here?” I said.
“We’re interested in this Pringle case,” said Will.
“And why’s that?”
More silence. I studied each man, then focused on Will. “Did the county coroner call it a suicide?”
“Yes, but I am troubled,” he said.
“Is Line Creek police troubled?”
“Not as much as I,” Will admitted. “I don’t like this text messaging business. Especially when they had the cyberbullying issue last year.”
“Herrera said last year was completely different.”
“Yes and no,” said Will.
“That’s helpful. So, if the suspicious death has been called a suicide, Line Creek is done investigating. But you disagree with the county coroner. Which means you could make this political.”
“I suppose that sums it up.”
I turned to Luke. “And why are you here?”
“Curiosity.” He wore his hooded cop look, but I sensed a grin somewhere underneath.
“You usually zing me for that.” I narrowed my eyes. “Y’all want to know what I’ve heard, don’t you?”
“It’s Line Creek’s investigation,” said Will. “Like Luke said, we’re curious. And Luke told me the drama teacher wants your help with this texting business. We figured you’d have your ear to the ground.”
A smile curled around my cheeks. “So, you’re looking for inside information? You could deputize me.”
“No,” said Will.
“You don’t have to be so quick on the draw.”
“More like we should keep an eye on you.” Will tapped a finger on his desk. “Someone’s stirring up trouble at Peerless. I’m just not sure if it’s a student getting his kicks from upsetting teachers or something more malicious. I don’t believe they’re dangerous, but these things can get out of hand quickly.”
“Tinsley’s shook up, that’s for sure,” I said. “Here’s something. The art department might have a drug problem.”
“Students or teachers?” asked Luke.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “My source implicated the whole department.”
“Who was your source?” asked Will.
“A student.”
“Well, that may be the answer to the confiscated hard drive. Some idiot could be using the school’s computers to organize their dealing.” Will waved his hand. “What else do you have?”
“Your turn,” I said. “Did Miss Pringle leave a suicide note?”
Will stared at his hands. “Yes and no.”
“What is with the yeses and noes?”
“The note was typed. Printed from a computer.” Will shook his head. “Didn’t bother Coroner McMillan, but I didn’t like it.”
“The note or that fact that it was printed?”
“Both.”
I kicked my boots against the chair legs. “What about the text messages she got? What did they say?”
“She deleted the messages, but Line Creek sent the phone to the GBI lab for analysis.” Will leaned forward on his desk. “So, I bet you’ve heard a lot of scuttle about Pringle. What do you think the texts say?”
“I’m guessing they refer to her love life,” I said. “A parent hinted she had an affair with the principal. Even Tinsley called Cleveland a lovesick basset hound or some such name. And maybe she slept with a coach and some fathers. I saw her picture. Maranda Pringle’s a looker. But I can’t see how any of that would cause her to commit suicide.”
“Unless one of the affairs caused her a lot of guilt for another reason,” said Will.
“Like?”
“A student who died.”
“Holy shit.” My eyes widened. “Pringle was involved with Ellis Madsen’s father? So both Pringle and Tinsley are pointed out for Ellis’s death?”
“How would Tinsley be involved in her death?” asked Luke.
“He gave her the lead in Evita, which may have prompted the bullying attack. Lots of jealousy hangs over that theater program,” I said. “But I’m having a hard time reading anyone at this school. They’re not my people.”
“Let us know if you hear anything else,” said Will. “If you have anything substantial, I’ll tell Detective Herrera.”
“Will do.” I rose from my chair. “Set building doesn’t start until after auditions, but I’m fixing to go back to school tomorrow anyway.”
“Just a minute.” Will pointed at the chair and I sank back onto the seat. “Harper, I need to talk to Cherry about some personal business.”
My eyebrows hit my temples. Did Miss Tamara squeal to Uncle Will about me acting like a squirrel?
“Yes, sir.” Luke stood, then placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s continue our talk about this Peerless business. Red’s at six tomorrow night?”
“All right.” I watched Luke stroll out of the room and turned to Uncle Will. “I swear I’m not running around Luke’s tree. I’m just reporting in on the Phantom Texter case.”
“What tree?” Uncle Will’s brows dropped. “You do not have a case. You’re observing an event while you’re working on something else.”
“Yes, sir. Although if someone’s paying me to do investigative work, I believe case is an appropriate term.”
Will shot me a look that bespoke of an inappropriate term.
“Is that the personal business you wanted to talk about?”
“No.” Will dipped forward in his chair. “It’s about your brother. Something’s going on with that boy.”
“Cody’s twenty-one. His brain isn’t fully formed, that’s what’s wrong with him.”
“Deputy Caruthers picked him up last night.”
“Dammit. What’d he do? DUI?”
“Not exactly. Caruthers was patrolling F
etlock Meadows subdivision and found your brother sleeping in his car. Cody had been drinking earlier, though.”
“Fetlock Meadows? Cody doesn’t know anybody in Fetlock Meadows.” Fetlock Meadows had been built around a golf course outside Halo. Not quite as posh as Ballantyne, but Halo’s high and mighty needed a place for their own McMansions close to their ancestral digs.
Uncle Will ran a hand over his salt and pepper buzz. “He was parked outside JB Branson’s house.”
“What in the hell was he doing there?” I said, followed by a silent “Oh, shit.” This might have something to do with the photos. But why JB’s house? Except Luke bunked there with his mom and stepdad while waiting to get his own place. Was Cody serious about his threat against Luke?
Uncle Will saw the cuss words crossing my mind. “What’s wrong with Cody?”
“I don’t know. I’ll talk to him.”
“See that you do. Ed says y’all haven’t been around the farm much. And I know you skipped Sunday dinner, which isn’t like you.” Will massaged his chin. “What’s going on with you Tucker kids? Are you and Cody not happy with Casey’s new husband?”
I chewed my cheek, wondering how long I could cover for Cody. And I didn’t want to upset Casey.
“Takes some getting used to is all,” I finally said. “But I have been going over to Max Avtaikin’s house to eat.”
“Figured as much. Your belly’s always followed Casey’s cooking. Just don’t let it hurt Pearl’s feelings. She’s a good woman and good for Ed.”
“Yes, sir. I actually made nice with her this morning.” I jumped off my seat and hot footed it out of his office before he questioned me on why Cody might stalk the Bransons.
This was the problem with small towns. You spend so much time tripping over everyone’s feet, after a while you can’t remember where you were supposed to be stepping.
DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE Page 10