MAD AS BELL

by Jeremy Waldron

  My throat constricted a little. “I have to go.”

  “Keep fighting, kid.”

  Once off the phone with Dawson, I dialed the Mrs. Hines’s cell. The line clicked over after the second ring, and I was surprised Karen answered at all. We had gotten close over the last several weeks and I considered her a friend.

  “Can we meet?” I asked.

  “We’re staying at a friend’s house.” Karen gave me the address and told me to swing by. “I’ll watch for your car.”

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Twenty minutes later, I climbed the front steps to an unfamiliar house in a neighborhood not much different from the last and softly knocked on the front door.

  Sparrows chirped in the nearby trees, the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. It was a beautiful summer morning despite having to mourn for Megan. I knew the mood inside would be somber.

  The drive gave me time to think. I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation I was about to have. I wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Hines had managed to escape the media circus. I was glad they had. It wasn’t fair of the media to bombard them and turn their grief into another story made for evening news.

  The door opened and I introduced myself to the face I didn’t recognize. He was tall with sunken, sad eyes. I assumed he was the homeowner—a friend of the family. He stepped to the side. “Rob and Karen are waiting in the living room.”

  “Thank you.”

  He closed the door behind me and said, “I’ll show you the way.”

  The house was busy with knickknacks, books, and crafts left out on tables. The walls were as crowded with family photographs and wall hangings. As soon as Karen saw me, she stood and met me halfway. I smiled, stretched my arms out wide, and wrapped her small body inside my arms. She began to cry and I glanced to Rob who couldn’t hold my gaze. His eyes were bloodshot from what I assumed to be a full night of crying—mourning the loss of their only child.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said through a constricted throat, fighting back the sting of tears threatening to burst free.

  I was here to let them know they weren’t alone. Things hadn’t turned out the way we hoped, and it felt silly to mention the obvious during such difficult times.

  Karen stepped back, flashed a small smile, and went back to sitting on the couch. Rob started pacing. It went on like this for the next several minutes—awkward pauses and uncomfortable moments of silence with no one knowing what exactly to say.

  “The police were here last night as soon as they found Megan,” Karen told me. “They still don’t know who did this, and then we saw the news.”

  “Have you talked to any other reporter since learning about Megan?” I asked, thinking about my conversation with Heidi. I also needed to cross Archie off my list of suspects.

  Karen said, “No.”

  From the moment Megan disappeared, her parents had waited to hear from the kidnapper. When no contact was made, their anxiety only grew worse. They remained strong and optimistic throughout it all, but now I could see their spirits had broke. And with good reason.

  Rob followed up by saying, “Could a teacher really be behind these kidnappings?”

  I stared into Rob’s dark eyes and got the impression he was looking for someone to blame. I couldn’t fault him for doing so. After my husband Gavin passed, I tried to blame everyone, unable for months to see the truth of bad luck.

  “I’m hearing reports of the other victims,” I said, “and yes, some are suggesting older men might be involved.”

  I could see Karen wanted to say something, but she hesitated when she saw the anger in her husband’s expression. As I sat on the edge of the couch with my elbows digging into my kneecaps, I looked for an excuse to be alone with Karen, but it never presented itself.

  I said, “I know you said Megan didn’t date, but could it be possible there was a man in her life?”

  “Megan was a good girl,” Rob defended his daughter. “Athletic and on her way to an Ivy.” He swept his gaze back to me. “This isn’t news to you. Megan wasn’t interested in dating. She was focused on her grades, on sports.”

  “Volleyball,” I said, remembering our previous conversation.

  “Yes,” Karen said solemnly. “She was so excited for another chance to repeat last season’s success, this time starting varsity.”

  I cast my gaze to the tips of my fingers, thinking again about Coach Bennett. I had no hard evidence to go on, only that he worked with some of these girls at South High. But my gut told me he was someone I needed to pursue. “Did you know the coach well?” Karen and Rob simply stared at me.

  Karen shot an uneasy gaze toward her husband before speaking. “Rob doesn’t know the complete story.”

  Rob’s eyebrows pinched and I could hear that he stopped breathing.

  “Megan was dating,” Karen said as she looked to her husband. “She didn’t want you to know because she was afraid you’d be angry.”

  Rob swiped a hand over his mouth and turned his head.

  Karen said, “Looks like she was right.”

  Rob exploded and left the room, a punch to the wall, his parting sound. My insides jumped at the contact. When we heard the back door open and slam shut, I turned to Karen and asked, “Who was this boy? Did you know him? Was he a good kid?”

  Karen told me his name and confirmed he was a good kid.

  “Then what happened?” I asked.

  “She got dumped.” Karen stood and moved to the window. She folded her arms and took a moment to gather her thoughts. Then she continued, “Not long after that, rumors spread about Megan that weren’t true. Soon the boys were calling her a slut, mean names like that. Megan was devastated and confused by it all. She didn’t know how to handle the sudden change or how the school and the boy she thought she loved could turn on her without reason. It wasn’t like she had a lot of experience with boys, and I was afraid this would ruin future endeavors. That’s when everything started to unravel for her.”

  I sat there with thoughts jumping of Bennett and King’s mention of Jenny maybe being involved with an older man. Rob’s voice startled me back to the present.

  “You should have told me,” Rob said to his wife.

  I turned and was surprised to see him back in the room. I hadn’t heard him come back inside. Karen didn’t seem to care. The truth needed to come out. Flicking her gaze back to me, Karen said, “You’re probably wondering what happened next.”

  I nodded and she continued.

  “Things eventually died down for her, but then one day after school, Megan and her friends were changing for an after-school event in the girls’ locker room when a male teacher walked in on them.”

  I asked, “This all happened last school year?”

  Karen nodded. “During the spring semester.”

  “What did Megan do?”

  “At first she made nothing of it. The teacher claimed it was purely an accident.”

  “And was it?”

  Karen shrugged. “Megan didn’t think so. She brought it to the administration’s attention.”

  “What happened? Did they discipline the teacher?”

  Karen cast her gaze to the diamond ring she was busy spinning around her knuckle. “Megan wouldn’t talk about it, and neither would the school when I called. But not long after all this happened, the same rumors as before picked up and apparently didn’t stop.”

  “Christ, Karen.” Rob extended his arm and pointed his hand at her. “You’re just sharing this with me? Why didn’t you tell this to the police last night?”

  Karen’s expression hardened. “Because we didn’t see the news until after the detective left.”

  They were referring to Heidi’s sensational reporting. Though there wasn’t any evidence to suggest that what Heidi said was true, I was starting to believe she might be onto something.

  Rob planted his hands on his hips, visibly upset.

  I asked, “What is the teacher’s name?”

  The tall man hurried
into the room and took Rob’s attention away. “Sorry to interrupt, but you’re going to want to see this.” He flicked on the TV and landed on the local news channel.

  As I tuned in to the story, Karen leaned her head close to my shoulder and whispered, “I don’t know who the teacher was, never did find out. But there is no doubt something is going on at that school that the administration wants to keep quiet.”

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  The stairs creaked as Nicholas Bennett climbed his way to the top. At the landing, he switched the light off and dropped the ceramic plate he was holding to his side when he heard what sounded like tapping coming from inside the walls.

  Twisting around, he peered into the dark abyss below with a quizzical brow. The basement walls wept a soft musty odor. When he flicked the light back on, the sound he thought he heard stopped.

  Bennett lived in an old house that creaked and whistled its way through life. Over the years, he had framed and finished the basement and was now working on a big kitchen remodel. But none of his equipment was plugged in. With no AC running, there was only one possible explanation for that noise.

  He took one step down to investigate when his cellphone began to ring from the kitchen counter.

  Grumbling his annoyance, Bennett turned and headed back up the steps, making a mental note to follow up on the tapping, switched off the basement light, closed the door, and retrieved his phone. The TV was still on. He’d been keeping a close eye on the developing story of the missing girls being reported from outside Megan’s parents’ house.

  Bennett glanced to the phone’s screen and answered the call from Allison.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked.

  Bennett kept his eye on the news. He didn’t like that they were suggesting a teacher might be behind the attacks. He said, “I’m surviving.”

  “We have to do something,” Allison responded. “I’m falling apart over here.”

  She waited for him to invite her over. Though she’d given him every opportunity to do so, he hadn’t yet. Bennett wasn’t the same man he was yesterday. But he didn’t have to suffer alone.

  Allison said, “I saw the FBI are now involved. Did you see anything last night when you visited the crime scene? I keep watching the news but something tells me they’re not giving us all the information.”

  Bennett’s jaw clenched and he turned his attention away from the TV screen. “I didn’t make it.”

  A long silence followed. She finally broke it with, “Nicholas, what’s happening at South High? This wasn’t what I signed up for. Why is someone doing this to these poor girls? The news is saying a teacher might be involved. Did you hear that?”

  Bennett flinched. Then the doorbell rang. “I have to go,” he said.

  “Nicholas!”

  Bennett killed the call, stuffed his cell into his back pocket, and opened the front door. He was surprised to find a female student of his looking up at him with glistening doe eyes, as if needing to be saved.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  What was she doing here? Did she come alone? Bennett stood frozen at the door, hypnotized by her fragile looking eyes. Naomi Moss dipped her chin and cast her gaze to her painted toes.

  “You should be home with your family,” he told her.

  Naomi’s chin hit her chest and she started to cry. Bennett stuck his head out the door and quickly looked to the neighbors to see who might be watching. Once he was sure no one was, he hooked his hand on her shoulder and pulled her inside.

  Naomi stumbled forward as Bennett latched the door closed behind her. Her body felt like jelly. It was clear she needed someone to talk to.

  “Naomi, what’s going on? Is everything all right?”

  Her head snapped up. Her expression pinched with a burst of anger. “Haven’t you been watching the news? Megan is dead and Jenny is still missing.”

  Bennett sighed. He reminded himself about Jessica Hinojos, too. “Come on inside.” He led her to the kitchen, turned off the TV, and instructed her to take a seat at the table. He asked, “Did you come alone?”

  Naomi gave two small nods of her head and looked around, taking in his place for the first time. Bennett hoped he hadn’t left anything out that he didn’t want her to see.

  “I’m in the middle of a remodel.”

  Naomi didn’t comment. Her shoulders hunched as she settled into her seat.

  “I’m doing it myself and it’s taking longer than I’d like.” Bennett kept rambling, filling the silence with anything. “Are you thirsty?”

  Naomi’s phone dinged with a text. She swiped a thumb over the screen, read the message, and flicked her gaze up to Bennett. Her expression turned cold briefly. There was nothing funny about any of this, so when Naomi burst into a fit a laughter, he frowned, confused by her reaction.

  Naomi stifled her laugh and waved a hand through the air.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing,” she said, giggling.

  “That’s quite all right.”

  Soft giggles continued to bubble up from deep inside Naomi’s chest before she finally settled down. Then she said, “You always said to come to you if I ever needed your help.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  Naomi’s eyes welled with tears. Her emotions were wildly swinging. “I didn’t know who else I could talk to. My mom doesn’t like Jenny and, besides, even if I could talk to my mom about how scared I am for Jenny, it never feels like she’s truly listening to me.”

  Bennett filled two glasses of water at the sink and placed them on the kitchen table, sliding one to Naomi. He sat across from her and said, “I heard the police came to ask you some questions.”

  “How did you hear that?”

  “Mr. Helton told me.”

  Bennett let her thoughts form. When she was ready, she said, “I didn’t lie. I told them everything I knew.”

  “No one said you did.”

  Naomi shared a sideways look with Bennett. After a silent beat, she said, “It wasn’t until after they left that I thought about how Jenny said her mother was struggling to pay her bills.”

  With one hand on his knee, the other on his water glass, Bennett asked, “And what, you think that has something to do with Jenny’s disappearance?”

  Naomi shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Does Jenny’s mom know you’re here?”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “God no. She would just assume you were the older man Jenny was sleeping with.” They locked eyes and Bennett tried to hide his surprise.

  “Jenny had a relationship with someone older?” Bennett’s brow furrowed as Naomi nodded. “Did you know who this man was?”

  Naomi shook her head no. “You know Jenny. She’s a bit crazy, but I think the real reason she was interested in him was to help her mom pay the bills. That’s what I can’t stop thinking about, what if it was him?”

  “Because you knew it was wrong?”

  “No, because I don’t know who he was.”

  Bennett shifted in his chair and glanced to the basement door, mulling over what to do.

  A loud thumping could be felt in the soles of their feet when Naomi asked, “What’s that noise?” They shared a look. “It sounds like someone walking on your walls,” she said.

  Bennett leaned forward and said, “You need to tell this to the cops.”

  “I can’t.”

  Bennett relaxed his shoulders. “Why?”

  “Because the police already said if I would have called as soon as I knew Jenny was missing, she would have been found by now.” Jenny’s chin quivered. “It will be my fault when she dies.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. Whoever killed Megan will kill her, too.”

  Bennett stood and walked around the table, offering Naomi his hand. She reached for it and he pulled Naomi to her feet, encasing his arms around her teenage body. She melted into him when he said, “Stay positive, kid. Something tells me Jenny is still alive.” />
  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Naomi flushed the toilet, stood, and zipped up her jean shorts. She didn’t actually need to pee, but needed an excuse to collect her emotions that were leaking like a faucet out of her eyes.

  Moving to the sink, she washed her hands and pinched life back into her cheeks, making sure her makeup hadn’t smeared or run. She felt foolish for crying in front of Coach Bennett, but he seemed confident that Jenny was still alive. She didn’t understand how he could be so poised, but it comforted her to hear it. Maybe that was the point—to fill her up with hope.

  Turning off the water, she dried her hands on a towel, still not fully understanding why she came here to begin with. Though she trusted Bennett, she knew many students in the school didn’t.

  Her cellphone buzzed on the counter.

  Naomi turned her focus to her phone and froze. She was afraid to answer it.

  Since her sexting photo went viral, she had suddenly become the school slut. There was a target on her back with rumors spreading across her social media channels. They were now flooded with her peers calling for her to kill herself, get a boob job, and whatever other mean things they could come up with to make her feel worthless. Maybe that was the reason she came here to talk? In some twisted way, she could relate to his own experience of being the source of far-fetched rumors.

  Naomi groaned when her cell buzzed with a second text message. Finally, she gave in and checked to see who it was. It was from Charlie.

  I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Naomi wrote back.

  It’s bigger than that, Charlie responded.

  What could be bigger than her topless photo? Naomi didn’t know.

  The news is saying a teacher is behind these attacks. Where are you?

  Naomi stared at her device with thumbs hovering over the screen. Should she tell Charlie where she was? No, she couldn’t. She wrote, Out. What teacher?

  Out? Ok. Whatev. Don’t tell me. I don’t know, but I bet it’s Bennett. You know what happened with him and the other girls. The dude is a creep.