DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE

by Larissa Reinhart

  “What happens if you click on the person posting?” I snagged the mouse and clicked. The screen changed, showing the PeerNotes header again. Below, lay an empty information box. Instead of a name, someone had listed the alphabet.

  Luke clicked back to the photos. “Does your auditorium have a balcony? They would have needed an aerial view to take these.”

  Tinsley nodded. “The theater has a balcony.”

  “Let’s go take a look.” Luke turned to me.

  “Wait,” I said. “Mr. Tinsley, did you get a text as well?”

  His fingers played along the edge of his desk. “Just the PeerNotes notification. I told you the Phantom suggested I was watched.”

  “You have to tell me what the texts said.”

  “She’s right.” Luke folded his arms and cast Tinsley his cop stare. “If the Line Creek police do get involved in this texting issue, they can confiscate your phone and pull up the deleted messages anyway.”

  I secretly smiled and slipped the “she’s right” into a pocket to save for a metaphorical rainy day.

  Tinsley gusted a long sigh. “The texts accuse me of using theater funds for personal expenses.”

  “Is that true?” I asked.

  “Of course it’s untrue.” Tinsley gripped his desk. “The IRS may have nosed around my receipts a few times, but they never found anything in their audits.”

  I glanced at Luke. His flinty eyes could have drilled holes into Tinsley’s forehead.

  “Let me see the texts anyway.” I put an extra lump of sugar in my smile. “It’s not the messages that interest me as much as how they’re written. There might be some clues.”

  “I will give in, Miss Tucker. ‘A stage where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one,’” Tinsley quoted and dug the phone from his pants pocket. Tapping on the screen, he entered a code, then pressed to retrieve his text messages.

  Again with the weird quotes. I took the phone from his hand. “Thank you.”

  Tinsley bowed.

  “I meant for the phone.”

  I held the small screen near my face, and Luke edged in next to me, circling his arm about my waist to get a better look. I ignored the fingers that hooked onto my belt loop and allowed him to peer over my shoulder. The woodsy scent of his cologne enveloped me as Luke reached around my shoulder to widen the message on the screen. I ordered my nose to shut off from the cologne sniffing and my brain to focus on Tinsley.

  “‘While the theater feeds your appetite, you feed theirs,’” I read. “‘If Peerless lost its idol, wouldn’t they worship the next fool who feeds them pizza and compliments? You’re buying love. How long can you go on acting without real accolades? Soon everyone will see you as the fraud you really are.’”

  “It’s vaguely threatening,” said Luke. “Does the ‘they’ referred to mean the students?”

  “I believe so.” Tinsley collapsed into his chair. “Although the idol could refer to the Tiny Tony.”

  I ran my finger over the screen, hunting for more messages and found none. “This seems to be more about you bribing the students than using theater funds on yourself.”

  “It’s all interpretation, I suppose.” Tinsley tapped his fingers on the desk. “Now that you’ve viewed that message, any clues?”

  “I need to think about it,” I said. “We’ll check out the theater while I think.”

  Tinsley tossed his keys on the desk. “I’ll wait here. I’m in no mood to approach the stage.”

  Luke released my hip to grab the keys. “Let’s go.”

  I rubbed my hip of the scorch marks left by his hand and followed Luke out the door. Glancing back, I noted Tinsley had swiveled the computer screen toward his side of the desk. He began pounding on the keys.

  I needed to know more about the man who had hired me to chase down a phantom. A phantom that put him and his theater in the spotlight.

  Seventeen

  We made our way through the hall of doors until we reached what I thought was a side entrance into the theater.

  Using a master key, Luke unlocked the door, and we entered the dark auditorium. On the stage, the ghost light’s caged, single bulb lit the table and chair Tinsley had used for auditions. In the theater, red exit signs burned above the doors, but didn’t provide enough illumination to do anything other than cast an eerie glow on the doors themselves.

  “I guess we should have asked about the lights,” I said, stepping back and bumping into Luke.

  “Hold still,” he said and a moment later a pen light flashed on the floor. “If I had to guess, we’ll find the light switches near the auditorium entrance or in a sound booth.”

  “Sound booth?” I blindly reached for Luke’s hand and focused on the small beam of light. “Look at you with your theater jargon.”

  “I ran the sound and light board for extra credit in high school a few times.” He tugged my hand and I followed him up the path between rows of seats. “Used to sneak girls in the booth and we’d fool around during the plays.”

  “How educational.”

  I felt his smile. “I learned plenty.” He gave another tug to bring me closer to his side. “I could tutor you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a job to do. And friends don’t make out in sound booths when they’re hunting for phantom texters.”

  “Now, that’s a shame. I could use more friends like that.”

  I needed to move to a safer subject. “What did you make of the Phantom’s accusations against Tinsley? I still don’t think Tinsley’s telling me everything.”

  “More than likely, Tinsley did use his theater funds inappropriately and someone found out. And it probably wasn’t spent on buying pizza for the students.”

  “Unless he was buying especially for Ellis Madsen,” I said. “There was that Evita announcement.”

  “Or the Phantom is just tossing balls in the air and one came close to hitting Tinsley. I don’t think that idol message had anything to do with misuse of funds.”

  We had reached the apex of the theater. Luke shone his pen light on the door to the sound booth and then on the walls next to the double doors leading to the auditorium’s lobby. “No switches here. I’ll look in the booth.”

  I tried the double doors. They gave at my push, and I peered out. “There’s a window, so I can see. I’ll look for a light switch out here.”

  “Holler if you find one. You might need a key for it.” Luke fumbled with the key ring, trying different keys in the doorknob of the booth.

  I left him to relive memories of high school necking sessions and walked into the theater lobby. Pale moonlight shone through a large window, painting a silver square on the dark carpet below. Two single doors set at the far corners, I assumed, led to the balcony. Enough diffused lighting allowed me to see an absence of light switches.

  The lobby entrance opened onto a school hallway. This hall was lit with inset fluorescent panels, and I could make out the front foyer and office in the distance.

  I realized I had not traversed this spoke in the Peerless labyrinth, which must run parallel to the arts hall. I glanced back at the theater doors and decided to leave Luke to find the lights. It would be impossible to see anything in the balcony without some overhead illumination.

  I scooted down the hall, searching for lighted classrooms, curious to see if anyone else worked late. Perhaps the Phantom had holed himself up in one of the rooms, waiting for Tinsley to respond to the audition photos on PeerNotes. Or on Tinsley Talks, as I suspected.

  I stopped a few yards down the hall. A large picture window had been inset, and I realized no doors, but windows aligned both sides of the hall, all dark save one. Parents walk this hall on their pilgrimage to the auditorium, I thought. Views into the students’ lives. Watching their children through glass.

  Very
Planet of the Apes.

  I moved to the next window. By the glow of an electronic panel, I could make out the nearby shape of a bulky machine. Closing my eyes, I imagined the other side of the hall and knew these were the art studios. Smart for Peerless to give the parents a window onto another creative process while they made their way to the theater for plays and whatnot. Much more interesting than a history classroom.

  The next window glowed in stark contrast to the others. I crept with my back against the cinderblocks and peered around the side. Easels had been set in a circle around a central dais made from a plywood box, holding a table draped in a white cloth topped with a cow’s skull. Still lifes. I smiled, remembering the number of charcoal cow skulls I had drawn as a student. Then noticed movement in the closest corner.

  Not quite able to see, I squatted and waddled below the window to peep up. The teacher’s desk sat diagonally in the corner, a good spot to hide from the constant surveillance of the picture window. I could see the side of a computer monitor and stacks of books and papers. I hunker-walked toward the opposite corner and peeped up again. This time, Dr. Vail’s profile appeared, bent toward the computer screen.

  She appeared to be typing or scrolling and stopped. Her hand rose to the screen, then flew to cover her mouth. With slumped shoulders and a hand clamped over her lips, Camille Vail sat, fixated on the computer screen. I squinted to make out the website, but from the side I could only see the glow of illuminated pixels.

  Slamming her hand on the desk, Dr. Vail bumped a haphazard stack of piled papers, starting an avalanche. Drawings slopped onto the floor. With eyes and mouth drawn tight, she glared at the fallen pieces. Grabbing a piece of pottery on her desk, she chucked it at the far wall. The object smashed against a chalkboard and rained on the carpet.

  “That’s what I call ticked off,” I whispered, dropping below the window. “Who peed in her grits? Tinsley?”

  I wanted to see her computer screen, but the angle worked against me. My peripheral caught more movement. Across the hall, a light flickered in a window. I stiffened. The tiny light bobbed inside the dark room, went out, then flashed again. Someone besides Luke had a flashlight and were doing their best to hide it from the window. Which classrooms were in the next hall?

  More importantly, could the flashlight holder see me hiding in the hallway?

  I peeked above the art window. Dr. Vail paced before the chalkboard. I dropped to the floor and scuttled the length of the window, my eyes on the opposite wall where the penlight cut on and off. A door creaked, and I froze.

  “Cherry? Where are you?” called Luke. “I turned the lights on in the theater.”

  The penlight cut off. I flattened against the wall and inched toward my full five foot and a half inch.

  “Cherry?” Luke strode to the entrance of the hall, located my position, and halted.

  With my eyes on the dark window, I held a finger to my lips, but the flashlight had been doused. A sliver of light appeared as the classroom door cracked. A figure blocked the light and the classroom fell into darkness.

  “Come on,” I called over my shoulder and took off down the hallway. I glanced in the drawing classroom as I passed and noticed Camille Vail no longer paced. The room was empty.

  My boots rang on the tile floor. Behind me, I heard Luke’s boots echoing mine. Except faster and heavier.

  He caught me in three seconds, pounding the floor next to me. “Why exactly are we jogging down the hall?”

  “We’re not jogging, we’re running. Someone was poking about in the classrooms in the next hall. With a flashlight. They just left and I’m going to catch them.”

  Luke’s long legs hit warp drive and he shot off, reaching the school foyer and rounding left. He disappeared while I still chugged up the middle hall. Panting, I skidded to a stop in the half moon foyer. Lights shone in the back of the administration office. I spun left and noted the sign above the next hall. Math and Sciences.

  My least favorite hall.

  I jogged forward and stopped. The dim florescent panels revealed an empty corridor that ended in another double set of doors. Where was Luke? Like the arts hall, this area didn’t have windows, only sets of doors. I backed into the foyer. The next wing held Language Arts and Social Sciences, and the following had been marked for Consumer Science, Business and Computer Science, and Physical Education.

  I wasn’t crazy about any of those fields, either. And those halls were as deserted as the math and science area.

  I slipped back to the science hall, jiggling door handles as I reached them. Midway down the corridor, I discovered another passageway connecting math and science to the other academic halls. I hesitated, wondering if Luke had followed this arc or if he had continued down the science hall.

  I was going to get so lost.

  Boots tramped somewhere in the distance. Luke still navigated the byzantine school, searching for the flashlight carrier. I decided to continue my course of trying doorknobs, until I reached the locked double doors at the end. The cafeteria. Another hall sprigged right here as well.

  Peerless Academy was one big wagon wheel with some additional arcs crossing the spokes. Although it felt more like the game board from Clue. Phantom Flashlight must have taken the secret passageway from the conservatory to the lounge.

  I closed my eyes and listened. Footsteps rang somewhere nearby. I jogged back up the science wing, turned the corner of the connector hallway and smacked into Luke.

  He grabbed me by the shoulders and peeled me off his body, steadying me on my feet.

  “Did you see anybody?” he asked.

  “No, not a soul.”

  “There are a couple custodians vacuuming and dusting the library. They didn’t see anyone either.” He ran a hand through his short, dark curls. “Are you sure you saw somebody?”

  “Sure as I could in the dark. I don’t think the bogeyman uses a penlight to search through a desk, which is what I guess they were doing.”

  Luke jiggled the ring of keys. “You think you can figure which classroom it was?”

  I paced down the hall and chose a door on the right, the classrooms facing the windowed hall. The nameplate next to the door named the room “Chemistry.”

  Luke unlocked the door with his master key and paused.

  “Should we turn on the lights?” I felt for a switch on the wall.

  “That’s what I was wondering. I don’t think anyone’s around, but if the lurker is still about, they might see us through those damn windows.”

  “So will Dr. Vail.” I pointed to her lighted window across the hall. “Let’s continue with the skulking. I’d rather not anyone know I’m in a science room. I have a reputation to protect.”

  “I don’t think anyone would believe you spend much time studying chemistry. Maybe biology.” He nudged my hip with his leg. “Get it? The birds and the bees.”

  “Hilarious. I meant I don’t want anyone in the school to know I’m looking for the Phantom.” I glared toward his murky shape. “Are you done playing around? I’m on the track of a maniacal slanderer.”

  “Maniacal slanderer? I don’t remember that term from the Police Academy.”

  “You don’t treat this any more seriously than Herrera, do you?” I said.

  “Sugar.” Luke leaned against the jamb. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “I’m still not sure why. But let’s see what our flashlight lurker searched for. They were somewhere close to the window, near the far right corner.”

  I moved with my hands out, stumbling past long counters and bumping into stools. Luke flicked on his pen light, guiding us to the corner. Buried beneath notebooks and stacks of paper, we found the teacher’s desk. Luke glided the small light over the papers. I moved around the desk to block the light from the window.

  “I don’t see much other th
an kids’ homework.” Luke laid a hand on the hard drive tower. “Feels cold. They didn’t boot up the computer. See if the desk drawer is open.”

  Having Luke’s help was more beneficial than I realized. However, I didn’t need to explode his ego with that comment and kept it to myself.

  I pulled on the front middle drawer. It lurched open. Luke handed me the penlight, and I shined it on a mess of pens, paperclips, pencil shavings, and other educational flotsam and jetsam. Finding the end of a lanyard, I yanked on it and a Peerless name badge flew out.

  “I guess we’re monkeying around in Scott Fisher’s desk.” I shined the penlight on the badge’s tiny picture. “Kind of cute for a science teacher.”

  “Stop ogling Scott Fisher,” said Luke. “Let’s hurry this up.”

  “Wasn’t an ogle. More of an admiration.” I replaced the lanyard and tried another drawer.

  “One thing’s for sure,” I said. “Scott Fisher isn’t up for any Cleanest Desk awards. I just found half of a mushy banana.”

  “Leave the banana.”

  I opened the bottom drawer. “Here’s his secret stash of mini candy bars. Scott Fisher has a sweet tooth.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” warned Luke. “What else is in the drawer? Look for something out of place.”

  I flashed the pen light around the drawer, afraid to find another moldy banana. A manila envelope lay beneath the bag of candy. I lifted the candy and ran the light over the envelope. It didn’t have the markings of dirt or wear as the rest of the desk clutter.

  “I’d say this qualifies as one of these things is not like the other.” I grabbed the envelope and stuck the penlight under my chin, shafting the light toward my bellybutton.

  “Are you trying to spotlight your boobs?” Luke chuckled.

  “Not getting any hasn’t improved your sense of humor, that’s for sure,” I snapped. “You think this was what Mr. Flashlight was looking for? Should I peek inside this envelope?”

  “You peek. I can’t tamper with potential evidence.”