Rivaled in Murder

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Rivaled in Murder Page 4

by Helen Gray


  "I know, and I appreciate that. But may I ask one more question?"

  "You may as well. If you don’t, you’ll find another way to get it answered."

  "What caliber of gun was used in those murders?"

  Buck hesitated, clearly weighing how much—or little—to reveal. “I’m not at liberty to tell you the kind of gun that was used, but spent shell casings were recovered and are being analyzed. And I’m too busy looking for those guys to waste time talking.”

  Toni pulled the buzzing phone away from her ear. She could take offense at her dad’s old friend’s roughness, but she recognized—and understood—his frustration.

  At the end of the last class of the day, Toni promptly left her room and hurried to the lobby to meet the boys. “Do you want to stay in the library with Gabe?” she asked Garrett.

  He nodded. “I can do my homework and play a game.”

  She breathed a thankful breath. It was preferable to having him wander the halls with children of other teachers. The meeting was supposed to be a short one, but what some considered short didn’t always equate to her own idea of short.

  She ushered them quickly to the library, and found that the librarian was still there. Toni approached Loretta’s desk. “Will there be anyone here during the meeting?”

  Loretta looked up from the pamphlet she was reading. “I have to go to the meeting, but the aide will be here for another hour.”

  “Gabe needs to do some research for a paper. Is it okay for me to leave both boys during the meeting? If the aide leaves before it ends, they can wait out front.”

  Loretta ran a critical gaze over the boys. “You have good kids. They’re welcome. But they can’t check out anything. They need to do that from their own library, unless they have special permission, and I can’t do anything about that until tomorrow.”

  “We know that,” Gabe said politely. “I’m looking for information about the effect teenage murders have on our society. I’ll read in some books, but I’ll be real careful with them and put them here when I’m finished.” He indicated the counter.

  Loretta’s hand went over her chest, and she turned a wide-eyed gaze on Toni. “Isn’t it awful about those Brownville kids?”

  “It is,” Toni said briefly, anxious to escape. She addressed the boys. “Make good use of the time. If I’m not back for you before the library closes, wait for me in …”

  “The usual place,” Gabe finished for her, grinning. “We will, Mom.” He headed for a table.

  Toni left quickly, not about to wait for Loretta, who was notoriously late for everything. When she reached the cafeteria, she joined John and Jenny Zachary at their table. The workshop on bullying started on time, since the presenter had traveled quite a distance and needed to get back on the road as soon as possible.

  “It takes confidence to stand up to a bully,” the speaker said. She went on to discuss why some students became bullies, while others were targeted by bullies. Then she outlined some steps for stopping bullying in schools.

  Toni found the meeting more interesting—and relevant—than any so far that year. But she knew how difficult it was for students to speak out or stand up to bullies. Those who were bullied were afraid the bully would turn on them, and others stayed quiet because it was a way to distance themselves from the person being bullied.

  When her phone pinged, she discreetly pulled it from her purse, checked, and found a text from her mother volunteering to drop by the school and pick up the boys. Toni held the phone in her lap below the tabletop and texted a quick acceptance.

  As soon as the meeting ended, the counselor approached their table. “Do you guys have a few minutes?” Kelly’s gaze encompassed all three of them.

  Toni wanted to go home, but she also felt obligated to give Kelly some time. Having the boys already with her parents meant she could afford a few more minutes. She indicated a vacant spot at the table. “If we can sit.”

  Kelly scooted onto the bench. “Thanks.”

  When they were all reseated, Kelly ran her gaze over each of them in turn. “What do you know of Zoe and Melody’s relationships at Brownville? Are they still close enough friends with their former classmates for these tragic deaths to cause extreme emotional problems for them?”

  Jenny lifted a palm. “I teach in the elementary, so I’ve had no contact with them.”

  “I see them around school, but I’ve never had them in class,” John said. “Since neither of us will be able to contribute anything, why don’t we go on home and let you and Toni talk?”

  Kelly nodded. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”

  As the Zacharys left, she focused on Toni. “What can you tell me about the girls?”

  “They’re not my top students academically, but they do above average work and seem to enjoy school and get along with their peers. Based on that, I’m guessing they did as well at Brownville.”

  “What about their friends? Have they made new ones here, or have they clung to their old ones of the past?”

  Toni considered how to answer. “So far as I can tell, they interact well with the students here. But they did say they’ve kept in touch with at least some of their former classmates.”

  “This is their second year here,” Kelly said thoughtfully. “I’m just trying to figure out how best to help them. If you feel they need to talk to someone, don’t hesitate to send them to me. Or I’ll be happy to come get them. Thanks for your time.”

  As she walked away, Toni pictured the sorrowful expressions on the faces of the two girls. Her heart ached for them. She wished her feelings of foreboding would go away.

  Instead, they grew as another question joined them.

  Now that she knew what kind of gun had been used to murder the teens, she wondered what kind of gun the punk had been shooting on the parking lot Thursday night.

  *

  Tuesday morning the question was still nagging at her. As they prepared to leave for school, Toni hustled the boys out the door five minutes earlier than usual.

  "What's your hurry, Mom?" Gabe complained.

  "I need to pick up something from my dad," she explained as she slid behind the wheel.

  She drove to her parents' house, dashed inside, and found them at the breakfast table. "Dad, may I borrow your metal detector?"

  He had bought one after losing a hearing aid while mowing the lawn. Since then he had found several interesting ways to use it. He rolled his eyes upward. "You lose something?"

  "No, I hope to find something." It was a long shot, but she had to try.

  He stood and, without bothering to don a coat, went outside to the shed behind the house. Two minutes later he returned with the implement. “Don't lose it," he cautioned, his mouth twitching.

  Toni grabbed it and hurried back to the van.

  As soon as the bell rang for third hour, she put on her coat and gloves, took her keys from her purse, and exited the building.

  When she reached the parking lot, she hiked down the sidewalk to the spot where the Brownville bus had been parked Thursday night. She gazed around, trying to estimate which way bullets from that punk’s gun would have gone. He had been shooting in the air, his intent seeming to be to scare rather than kill. So where would the bullets have landed? Too bad there were vehicles all over the lot.

  Taking a deep breath, Toni opened the rear door of her van and retrieved the metal detector. Then she started walking along the lawn between the sidewalk and the building, swinging the detector side to side and back and forth. When she had covered that area as hurriedly as she could, she began working her way around the lot, pushing the detector underneath each vehicle and moving it over the pavement, beginning where the bus had been and advancing across the lot.

  When she reached the light pole, she worked her way around it, then around and beneath the vehicles near it. Then she paused and looked up. She studied the light. Nothing was broken.

  Toni focused on the top of the pole, and then let her gaze travel slowly downward—a
nd paused about a third of the way down. She peered closer. Yes, there was something shiny barely visible up there. Could it be?

  It was too high to reach. She walked to the nearest vehicle, a car she recognized as the secretary’s. Thankful she had worn flat heeled shoes and a pant suit, she placed the metal detector on the trunk. Then she carefully climbed up onto the back of the car. Hopefully she could be careful enough to leave no scratches.

  Once atop the trunk on her knees, she carefully eased to a standing position, the metal detector gripped tightly in her right hand. Now upright, she paused for a moment to steady herself. Then she slowly raised the detector and stretched upward. She had to go up on her tip toes, but she clenched her teeth and moved the gizmo slowly over the shiny spot.

  When it beeped, her arms slipped down, and she nearly lost her footing. Ever so carefully, she reached back up and held her breath while moving the detector over the spot again. When she heard the signal, she lowered the tool and laid it on the car trunk. Then she sank to her knees and slid to the pavement.

  She glanced at her watch, and gasped. She had to get back to her room. Her fourth hour class would be there in less than five minutes.

  Hurriedly she replaced the detector in her van and ran to the building. Once inside she slowed to a more sedate pace and hoofed it to her room. As soon as she entered, she grabbed the receiver from the extension phone and dialed the police station. "Buck, please," she said, inhaling deeply to steady her breathing.

  The bell rang. As students entered the room, she gave the chief a fast summary of her discovery.

  "I'll drive out there and take a look. Go on with your class."

  When the bell rang for lunch, Toni donned her coat again and hurried outside where she could get cell service. She took her phone from her pocket and started to call Buck, but saw that she had a text from him.

  That bullet was a .38.

  So the gun that fired it was not the murder weapon. Toni hauled a deep breath and returned to the building.

  She and John stayed after school that afternoon so students could work on science fair projects in their labs. Afterward, Melody and Zoe approached Toni while pulling on their coats to leave.

  “Shelby’s funeral is tomorrow.” Melody’s lips trembled as she spoke. “Our parents said it’s okay for us to miss school and go.”

  “We’ll miss you, but I’ll be thinking of you. You can turn in your makeup work Thursday.” As Toni walked them to the door she explained what assignment they would miss in class the next day so they could work on it at home.

  As the girls set off down the hall, John joined Toni and accompanied her to the lobby where Gabe and Garrett waited by the front exit. She glanced through the plate glass door and spotted Zoe and Melody walking down the long inclined sidewalk to the parking lot.

  Suddenly two figures emerged from the rows of cars. Dressed in dark sweat pants, sweatshirts, and tennis shoes, they wore Halloween masks and carried baseball bats. All at once their slow pace changed, and they ran straight toward Melody and Zoe.

  Heart pounding, Toni dropped her purse and shoved the glass door open. She broke into a run, hardly aware of the biting spray coming from the gray February sky as she raced down the sidewalk.

  Lost in thought, the girls didn’t notice their attackers until the last moment. As weapons came up and swung at them, they dropped their belongings and flung their arms above their heads, but not in time. Zoe took a blow on the arm and fell. Melody managed to jump sideways, but was struck in the hip.

  Her protective instinct in full force and panic zinging through her, Toni let out an ear-splitting shriek and sprang forward. Fueled by anger that anyone would dare attack her students, she flew across the curb and ran up behind the attacker raising a bat over Zoe's head. She kicked with everything she had, and his feet flew out from under him.

  “Thank God for those defense lessons Dad made me take,” she breathed silently as she spun and started for the other assailant. But John got there first. He pulled the attacker off Melody and jammed an elbow into his midsection with a force that sent the guy flying. Then John tripped and fell with a thud onto the hard parking lot.

  Toni experienced the oddest sensation of being mentally separated from her physical body, while disjointed questions whizzed through her brain, as if her mind was looking down on the scene and analyzing it. Who were these attackers? Were the girls hurt? What was going on? Why?

  She had just turned around when the first assailant stood and came at her again. A blow across her shoulders brought an explosion of pain that made her crumple to her knees. The breath knocked out of her, Toni fought to clear the spinning stars from her head and get to her feet.

  Looking around, she saw both girls stumbling upright.

  One attacker grabbed the other one's arm and pointed across the lot. Then they took off running. Toni hesitated a moment, unsure whether to help John pursue them or stay with the girls. The terrified expressions on their faces kept her there. Zoe held her arm to her side, and Melody was rubbing her hip. Both were crying.

  Just as the fleeing assailants jumped into a car midway down the lot and backed out, Ken Douglas came running to join them. “What’s going on here?” he shouted.

  “Those two people attacked us,” Zoe yelled, pointing at the car peeling tires as it sped from the parking lot.

  Melody turned to Toni, her breath coming in ragged gulps. Toni wrapped her arms around the girl.

  “I’ll call the police.” Ken pulled out his cell phone, scrolled through his saved numbers and dialed. He waited a moment. “I need to report an attack on two students at the high school parking lot. The assailants got away.”

  When he disconnected, he steered Toni to the curb where John and the girls now sat. She sank down beside them to wait.

  Within five minutes the sound of a police siren pierced the air. A cruiser pulled up next to them and stopped, its lights flashing. Police Chief Buck Freeman emerged and strode past the cluster of spectators who had by now gathered on the sidewalk. Six foot two and white haired, Buck was a lifelong friend of Toni’s dad, a retired highway patrolman.

  “I was nearby,” he explained as he approached them. “A deputy will be here soon.”

  Zoe looked up at him, her demeanor doing a gradual transformation from weeping to bristling anger. “Someone tried to hurt us. Mrs. Donovan and Mr. Zachary protected us.”

  Both girls turned to face Toni. Then, as they exchanged glances, grins slowly spread across their tear-streaked faces. “You should have seen Mrs. Donovan when she screamed like a banshee and tore into those two,” Zoe said to the chief.

  “She was awesome.” Melody added.

  Toni noticed an ever so slight tug at the corner of John’s mouth.

  Another police car arrived, and Deputy Dale Brown emerged from it. Toni had gone to elementary and high school with the brown haired, ruddy skinned guy.

  “I understand there’s been an assault. Where are the perps?”

  “Hello, Dale,” the chief greeted him. "They got away.”

  Dale took out his notepad and a pen. “What happened? Which way did they go? Did you recognize them?”

  For the next ten minutes the girls went over what had happened and repeated that they had no idea who would want to hurt them. With the excitement over, the spectators drifted away.

  When he finished questioning the girls, Dale turned his attention to Toni. “What can you add to this?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea who they were, or why they attacked these girls.”

  “The car they escaped in was red and fairly new looking,” John spoke up. He paused, as if picturing the vehicle in his mind. “It was a Camaro, and there was a Brownville School sticker on the rear windshield.”

  The deputy made a note and asked the girls to repeat their story one more time.

  When he finished, Toni opened her mouth to ask Buck about the guys and the gun, but lost her nerve and closed it. He had his hands too full to bother k
eeping her updated.

  He noticed. “Go ahead and ask.”

  She grinned, encouraged by his tone. “Where are the guys who caused the ruckus on our parking lot Thursday night?”

  His mouth twitched. “In our jail. Some students were able to provide good descriptions of the car they were driving. We tracked it down and found the owner. He soon coughed up the name of his pal. The gun has been confiscated. And, as you know, the bullets are not the caliber used to shoot those two teens. I suggest that security be beefed up on the parking lot during and after school events,” he added, directing the statement to Ken.

  “Did you know the guys?” Toni asked.

  Buck shook his head. “Not before this. They’re high school dropouts from Farmington. The two Brownville boys they came to scare were up there over the weekend and met them at a pool hall. They were bullies and picked on the small town hicks.” He emphasized the description, telling Toni he was quoting their words. “They didn’t expect retaliation, but the Brownville boys left the joint and waited outside for them. There was a fight that apparently had no winner, and left the Farmington boys hopping mad. They followed the Brownville boys back to their town, but didn’t catch up to them or find where they live. So they hung around town and found out that they played basketball and would be here in Clearmount Thursday night. They showed up and waited for them near their bus.”

  While she had him talking to her in such a rare open manner, Toni decided to press for more. “Were you able to find any footprints at the crime scene that would tell you anything about the killer?”

  “There were some slight indentations, but they were too filled with fresh snow to determine a shoe size.”

  “What about tire tracks?”

  “They were also nearly obliterated, so I can’t be sure what kind of vehicle had been in there, but it wasn’t real big. I’m guessing a smaller model. From the pattern of the trail, I think it probably entered the park from the north and left going south—or vice versa.”

  “Do you have any idea when the victims were murdered?”

  He heaved a sigh. “Toni, you ask too much.” He looked upward, clearly debating how much to tell her. Then he lowered his gaze and eyed her steadily. “I admit you have good instincts, and you know how to keep information private. Right?”

 

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