Schooled in Death

by Kate Flora

  Another shrug. “And now I work here. These students, I like them very much. I was before someplace else and it was not so nice.”

  He had a story, I thought, and I had no time to learn it.

  We arrived at the cars. Greenberg had grudgingly given me some room, so I turned around and headed back up the track. Gareth and his driver followed and Amad came last.

  I parked, and to my surprise, Amad parked beside me.

  “I must go back to work,” he said, leaning out his window, “but there is one more thing. I found that other track, the single track, because I followed some small footprints. If you like, later I can show you.”

  He handed me a piece of a paper with a phone number on it. I thought about abandoning Gareth, grabbing Amad’s arm, and going to check out those tracks.

  But Gareth was waiting. There was much to be done. And Amad was already driving away.

  Twenty

  “We need to talk with Bella, Ronnie, and Jaden again,” I said, when we were back in Gareth’s office. “And Tiverton, of course.”

  He held out a hand to ward me off. “Let me get through my messages first. I still have a school to run and I’d like to spend a few minutes on something that isn’t about Heidi. And drink some coffee. And eat something.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he shuffled the messages again, as though looking for some good news, then shoved them aside. “Thea, forgive me. You’ve just found that poor man lying there dead, and I’m not treating you with any consideration at all.”

  It’s an odd thing about me. I can stare down bad guys, stumble over dead bodies, and handle other people’s crises with calm competence, but when someone is kind to me, I fall apart. I dropped onto one of his comfortable couches, fumbled for a tissue in my pocket, and started to cry.

  Poor Gareth, a kind man and a gentleman, he really didn’t know what to do. I was supposed to be supporting him.

  “I’m fine, truly fine,” I said, as I soaked one tissue and reached for another. “Just give me a minute.”

  “Maybe a nice cup of tea?” he suggested.

  Despite my tears, it made me smile. Tea for the horror of finding someone murdered was like sticking a Band-Aid on a broken leg. But where he came from, tea was comfort food. I swiped at my eyes and blew my nose. We had work to do and there was no time for a pity party. I might not want tea but I did need some food.

  “Sandwiches?” I said. “And chocolate. This situation definitely calls for chocolate. What time is it, anyway?” Although it felt like we’d already put in an eighteen-hour day, my watch said it was only early afternoon. It seemed hours since we’d interviewed Ted Basham and Heidi’s friends, and then been called to the clearing. I suppressed a light comment about how I preferred to avoid bodies before lunch. Neither of us felt light. The weight of this had settled on us like a dentist’s lead apron.

  He asked his assistant to organize some lunch and then returned to business. “You said you had an idea who that man…uh…the person who was killed…who he was?”

  “Just a hunch,” I said, “and I so hope I’m wrong.”

  I was torn as I pulled out my laptop, logged in, and typed in a name. I watched the results pop up, so badly not wanting my suspicions confirmed. The search led me, eventually, to a Facebook page, and to a sharp-faced man with military short brown hair, glasses, and an army uniform. He was a big man with broad shoulders and a petulant mouth. In some of the photos he was holding a serious-looking weapon.

  I felt gut-punched.

  “Oh, dammit, Gareth. I’m right. Look at this.”

  I put the laptop on his desk, the photo facing him. He studied it thoughtfully for a minute, sighed, and shook his head. “Sorry, Thea, maybe I’m being dense, but I have no idea who this is or what it has to do with Heidi or this school, or the man lying dead down there in our woods.”

  Oops. I’d skipped a step again. Gareth hadn’t been there earlier when I interviewed Ted Basham about anyone who had been in and out of the house who might present a threat to Heidi. I knew Dee and Dum had been mentioned last night, but perhaps at that point Gareth was already tuning out. It was right after that that he and Basham had agreed to postpone discussion until morning.

  “This is Lt. Alexander “Sandy” Crosby, one of the General’s junior officers who, according to Ted Basham, were frequently in and out of the Norrises’ house. The other one was Lt. Aaron Ramirez. One of Heidi’s friends, I think it was Ronnie, mentioned them this morning. Heidi and her father referred to them as Dee and Dum.”

  “Crosby is the man who…he’s the body down in our woods?”

  “I think so.”

  “What do you think happened? What is that man doing here?”

  I shook my head, unable to avoid another look at the man in the photo. “I really don’t know. I can only speculate that General Norris must have brought him here for some reason. Unless he was the baby’s father, and that’s why he came. Heard the news, put two and two together, and hopped on a plane.”

  “But what was he doing in that clearing? Did Heidi arrange to meet him? Was she meeting someone else and he showed up? How does any of this even make any sense?” Gareth wondered. “And who killed him?”

  He looked down at the messages on his desk, as though perhaps the answer was written there. “Could it have been Heidi?”

  She was a big girl, I thought. We believed she’d been victimized, so could this be something she did out of shock, or outrage, or fear for her life? But what would this man, Lt. Crosby, be doing there? I couldn’t imagine Heidi agreeing to meet him there.

  “We don’t have enough information to speculate,” I said. “And there were tracks that suggested other people were there as well.”

  “It’s a nightmare,” he said.

  We sat with that, ignoring our ringing and vibrating phones, feeling impotent as we pondered the answerless dilemma. Instead of trusting the school to help her, had Heidi called someone and arranged to meet that person down in the woods? If so, why would it be Crosby, unless Heidi had lied to her friends. Or her friends were lying to us about how much she disliked him. Now he was dead. We had no idea who had done it. And increasingly, no idea who the bad guys and good guys were. And Heidi was still missing. Our shared fear, one we didn’t need to articulate, was that whoever had killed Crosby either had Heidi, or she was dead, too. Perhaps dumped into that cold spring river?

  An abandoned baby and a mother in denial had seemed like crisis enough. That paled in the light of what we now knew. I wondered if we should tell Miller and Flynn about Crosby’s identity and what we’d heard about his relationship to Heidi? If it was time to suggest dragging the river? If they were getting dogs out yet and what, if anything, that would tell them?

  “Miller and Flynn probably know who he is by now,” I said. “I’m sure he had ID. But they probably don’t know his connection to Heidi.”

  “Neither do we, really,” he said. “All we know is that he was known to her. He was a regular visitor to her home. And someone who, it is alleged, was in the habit of “accidentally” walking in on her. She didn’t like him, so why would she call him? We don’t know anything else about the nature of their relationship.”

  His hands curled into fists, a gesture of frustration, not potential violence. “Thea, we have got to find Heidi.”

  Easier said than done, or we would have found her by now. Her friends had searched, campus security had searched, and the police had searched. What more could we do? It was likely she wasn’t on campus anymore.

  Knowing that I sounded like a broken record, I said, “I know we’ve got other things to do. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but we need to get Jaden, Bella, and Ronnie back here now, Gareth. One of them may know something that will help. Maybe something they don’t even know they know. Or something they’re hiding, still believing they’re protecting her, like more information about their contacts with Heidi last night. And we haven’t talked to Tiverton.”

  “After what
’s happened? We may well scare the heck out of them,” he cautioned. “They’re just kids, remember. We’re supposed to be looking after them, not dragging them deeper into this.”

  He waved a hand at his paper-strewn desk. “We have a lot of other things to focus on right now. A lot of upset parents to deal with. Let’s let the police do their job while we do ours.”

  I swallowed my protests—he was the client, so he called the shots—and bent to the jobs that needed our attention. My impatience to get out there and play Nancy Drew didn’t help Simmons with its larger problems while staying here and doing damage control might.

  Although we had little to tell them, the students couldn’t be ignored. You can’t keep something like a body and a swarm of police cars a secret on a boarding school campus. We planned another all school meeting for later in the day. Then we scheduled a meeting with the faculty to update them, and another with the school’s PR director and his staff. At this point, damage control felt like sticking a lot of Band-Aids on a succession of broken legs, but we had to do it. We both hoped that by the time the meetings rolled around, someone—Miller or Flynn—would have further information for us. Or Heidi would have been found. Still, the possibility of very bad news hung over the room like a thick, dark cloud.

  We were so immersed in our tasks that we were surprised when Gareth’s assistant announced that Dr. Purcell was here. In our lurch from crisis to crisis, no one had thought to call her and cancel.

  She sat quietly on the couch, exuding an enviable calm, as Gareth updated her on all that had happened since the previous day. She watched Gareth as the description of events unfolded. I watched her. There were definite reactions on her otherwise controlled face when he said Heidi had run away in the night, aided by fellow students, the pill hidden under her pillow, and when he told her about finding the jacket in the woods and a man’s battered body nearby.

  When he was done, she said, “I need to think about this. Confidentiality can be quite a problem sometimes.”

  “What do you mean?” Gareth said. “You knew Heidi was planning to run away?”

  She countered with a question of her own. “Do you genuinely believe Heidi is in danger?”

  Despite how impressed I’d been by her insights yesterday, I thought this qualified as a dumbass question. Then I thought maybe it wasn’t that she doubted us, but that for reasons related to deciding to break confidentiality, she needed someone in authority to confirm it.

  Gareth seemed to have summoned a deeper level of solemnity as he answered. His voice was deeper, his already troubled face was etched with concern. In that moment, he looked ten years older. “We absolutely believe she’s in danger, Dr. Purcell, if she’s even still alive. A man who is possibly her abuser, a man we can assume came all the way from California, has just been found murdered in a wooded part of our campus. There are signs of a struggle. What we believe to be her coat is lying on the ground near the scene. And she’s still missing.”

  He paused, and then qualified his statement, since we still had no idea, beyond our supposition, why Crosby had come. “I should say that we don’t know whether this man—the man who has been killed—presented a threat to Heidi, as we assume to be the case, or came because he fathered the child, and had some less sinister motive. It is a muddle of questions with few answers. What is clear is that the homicide of someone she knew has occurred, Heidi has disappeared, and we have no idea whether her disappearance was of her own volition or at the hands of another.”

  He let that go a beat, to underscore the solemnity, then added, “Either way, she needs to be found, and we would appreciate anything you can tell us about her state of mind or intentions when you saw her yesterday.”

  Despite the seriousness and dark import of his words, Elaine Purcell didn’t immediately respond. She stayed still and watchful. Then she said, “Neither you, nor this man, Lt. Crosby, are related to the girl. What about Heidi’s parents? Where are they in all this?”

  Gareth threw up his arms in a gesture of extreme frustration. “Missing. Both of them. The people who should be here offering support, concern, and insight, have vanished. Her mother and General Norris headed for the airport at four a.m. this morning, telling their innkeeper they planned to return to California. When we called to inform her about Heidi’s disappearance, Mrs. Norris agreed to return. That was many hours ago. She has not appeared and is not responding to our calls.”

  Another baffled shrug. “Her father was here this morning, scheduled to meet with the police for questioning this afternoon. He is on crutches from an injury and said he was going back to my residence to rest. Instead, he got in his car and drove away. He, also, is not responding to us. At this point, all she has is us. As head of school, in the absence of her parents, I stand in loco parentis for this minor child. So yes, I can confirm that we believe Heidi is in grave danger. If you know anything that might help us find her, you should share it. I strongly believe that we are facing a potentially tragic situation here.”

  His shoulders slumped. There was a man on his campus with his head beaten in. The situation was already tragic. There was a tremble in his voice as he repeated, “If you know anything that might help us locate Heidi, you’ve got to tell us.”

  Twenty-One

  Dr. Purcell studied her hands, knotted in her lap, then raised her head and looked at Gareth. She looked sad. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t tell you any of this. But since you believe that Heidi is at risk, which her disappearance and the murder of this man she knew back home definitely suggests may be the case, and since there are no parents available to give me permission to speak with you, I am going to deem you acting in place of a parent. Here is what I know. I am not sure how any of it may help.”

  She rubbed her forehead, as though making the decision to disclose Heidi’s confidences was physically painful. “She told me that she had begged her mother to come alone. That if her stepfather came from California with her mother, if he approached her at all, she was going to run away. It’s not…it’s not that I didn’t take her seriously, Dr. Wilson. Even in her fragile condition, she was very clear about that. I just thought that—”

  She broke off, considering how to answer.

  “I just thought I’d have more time to convince her of the folly of any impulsive decisions. I counseled her about not doing anything hasty. I reminded her that her body needed time to rest and recover. That she was awash with hormones from the pregnancy and delivery and she should not make any precipitous decisions. I told her that you, by which I meant the school, would ensure that her stepfather was kept away from her, and only her mother admitted. I also gave those instructions very clearly to the nurse at the infirmary—only her mother was to be admitted. And to ensure that Heidi would rest and not act precipitously, I gave her a sedative and left orders that she was to be given another when that one wore off.”

  She shook her head in a gesture of irritation at her flawed decision-making. “She seemed such a sweet, passive, agreeable girl. Confused and frightened, yes, baffled that she had been pregnant and that people wouldn’t believe she was telling the truth when she said she didn’t know. But she didn’t strike me as impulsive or a risk taker. Nor did I take her dislike of her stepfather as a sign that he presented a danger to her. I expected when I returned to see her today that we would dig deeper into her concerns about her stepfather. And I would probe further about the circumstances of the pregnancy. I believed I was at the beginning of a potentially lengthy therapeutic relationship.”

  Again, she looked at Gareth. “Heidi was adamant that she would not return home to live with her mother, but whether that position was anything beyond a strong dislike of her stepfather, or whether the household presented a danger to her, I didn’t have a chance to explore. I’m afraid we were focused in our conversation on issues surrounding her denial of her pregnancy and insistence that she has never had sex.”

  She considered, then added, “There was also the issue of not being believed by the com
munity. That was of great concern to her. I assured her that we would find a way to help them understand how her denial could be genuine.” She looked sadly at Gareth. “I’m not sure I convinced her on that score, though. I think someone must have said things, said directly to her or things she overheard, that were deeply upsetting.”

  “Dr. Purcell,” I said, “is there anything you can recall from your conversation that might give us direction in our search for Heidi?”

  “I’m afraid not. She mentioned her concerns about whether her friends would believe her several times. She shared her fears about being judged by the community. But nothing about any place, or any one, she might run to. It was more a matter of escaping from than running to.”

  “We understand,” Gareth said. “You had little more than an hour. But we had to ask.”

  “There was a friend that she mentioned. A girl named Stephanie. They were friends back in California. She said she hoped Stephanie was all right. That’s all she would say, though. I don’t know if this girl—assuming you could locate her—could give you more information about Heidi or her situation.”

  I didn’t either. My attempt to contact Stephanie Smirnoff had been a failure.

  She gathered her things and stood. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wilson. I hope you find her. This is a terrible situation for everyone.”

  She was nearly at the door when she stopped and turned. “I have no idea how this might help. I took it as metaphorical. But at one point she said she just wished she could crawl into a safe, dark place where no one would think to look for her. And then, she almost smiled when she said that she actually knew of such a place.”

  And with a swish of heavy silk skirt, and a waft of the most subtle perfume, she was gone, leaving us with the awful image of a wounded and vulnerable child curled up in a hole somewhere like an animal gone to ground. The image was beyond depressing. How would we ever find this place, if it even existed? Was it somewhere on a campus that, theoretically, had been carefully searched? Still, meager comfort though it was, it was better to think of her in some secret hiding place than in the hands of whoever had killed Lt. Crosby. I’d managed campus deaths before, but this one felt overwhelming. We sat in a heavy silence, each trying to summon the energy to move on.