False Front (13 page)

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Authors: Diane Fanning

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals

‘Did something happen to set Todd off?’

‘There was a fight in the shower of the boys’ locker room after gym class. They were both naked and wet. The PE teacher broke it up and neither boy would tell us what it was all about. But Todd has been on Dylan’s back ever since.’

‘How was Dylan doing in class?’

She flipped open a file folder on her desk and scanned the contents. She pulled out three report cards, opened them and spun them to face Jake. ‘As you can see, he had excellent grades until the last two reporting periods. A lot of A’s and a few B’s in his sophomore year. More A’s and fewer B’s in his junior year. Not a C in sight. His senior year started out fairly well – more B’s than A’s, but still . . . Now D’s and F’s are more common. He stopped turning in homework even though it seemed as if he completed his assignments.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jake asked.

‘Two of his teachers saw him drop papers into the trash can as he walked out of the room. Each one pulled it out when he left and realized that it was the completed homework assignment that he claimed he hadn’t done. It really made no sense. But then teenagers often don’t.’

‘Have you talked to his teachers?’

‘Oh, have I. Dylan was well liked by the faculty. He seemed to have better social skills with adults than he did with his peers. He was polite to his teachers. He did his work. He studied. When it all fell apart they were perplexed. I was asked if his parents had divorced, if he’d lost someone close to him, all the usual torments. Or if he’d started using drugs or drinking alcohol. We had some sessions with his parents trying to get to the bottom of what was going on in Dylan’s life but they were as clueless as we were. That’s when I began to suspect he was depressed or had some other serious mental health issue. I told Seth and Martha that they needed to get help for Dylan.’

‘It sounds as if you have no doubts about the conclusion that Dylan committed suicide?’

She shook her head. ‘If you try to be suspicious that it’s something more, you come up with Todd Childress. Have you met him?’ she asked.

Jake nodded.

‘He’s been a rather obnoxious boy of late. He acts all tough but, believe me, he’s one of the biggest babies in the school and he’s a coward. Are you going to be talking to any of Dylan’s friends?’

‘Does he have any close relationships besides Becky Carpenter?’

‘Other than her I can’t think of anyone he’s close to. In fact, he seemed to have pushed everyone away this year except for her. But there were other friends before that. I called them into my office to see if they were having grief issues after Dylan’s death. A couple of them were angry that he took his life. The rest appeared indifferent. But I think that was an act. The whole student body was rocked by his suicide – even kids who didn’t know him. Most of them want to attend his memorial service but no one seems to know when that will be. Do you?’

Jake shook his head, unwilling to share that Dylan’s father was the reason for the delay.

‘Ready for the nickel tour? Get an idea of the lay of the land?’ she asked.

‘Lead the way.’

Walking out into the hallway, she said, ‘If I see any students that knew Dylan well at any time, I’ll point them out.’

‘I don’t want to question any of the kids without their parents present.’

‘Of course not. But who knows what one of them might volunteer,’ she said and flashed him a smile.

She pointed out the library and named the teachers behind each closed door and whether or not Dylan had been in one of their classes. Jake wondered if she knew all of her students that well.

At the door to the boys’ locker room, Jane stopped. ‘I don’t like going in there unless it’s a genuine emergency. Tends to make everyone uneasy – including me. But I thought you might want to go in and see where the fight took place.’

Jake pushed open the swinging door and the smell hit him – the odor of mildew, percolating hormones, stinky feet and sweaty adolescent bodies. Memories of his high school days rushed back. This place was one of the cruelest on earth. Ridicule for any perceived defect – the boy with big feet, the one with a prominent birth mark on his back, the one with the pimply butt. And God help any boy with a smaller than average penis. Jake never instigated any of the harassment over that deficiency but he was always willing to join in the laughter at the other boy’s expense. At the time, it seemed the right thing to do. Now, it left him with a sense of shame. How would he have reacted if one of the boys he’d ridiculed had committed suicide? Was that Dylan’s problem – a small penis?

He knew that if he had any problem with an emotional component when he was in high school he wouldn’t dare talk to his friends; he would talk to his mom or one of the girls. But would he even have considered that if the problem was penis size? That afternoon’s interview with Becky Carpenter took on a new importance. Does she know his secret?

Back in the hall, he asked, ‘Do you know if there was anything unusual about Dylan’s body? A scar, a mark, or—’

‘Or a small penis? You guys are so obsessed with that. I wouldn’t know. Neither he nor his parents ever said anything about that. One of his PE teachers might have known – but maybe not. They’re so careful in the locker room – they don’t want to be accused of staring at the boys’ bodies. I don’t think they really see them.’

The possibility of more conversation temporarily came to an end with the ringing of the class bell. Students erupted from classrooms with their thundering feet and babbling voices.

Jane nodded and smiled as one student after another acknowledged her presence with a simpering sing-song, ‘Hello, Mrs Salvadore.’ Then her expression changed without warning and Jake followed her gaze. ‘Eli! Eli!’

A small young man turned towards her and walked in her direction. Unlike most of the teenagers, he didn’t slouch. He stood as rigidly upright as he could as if he believed it made him look taller. ‘Hello, Mrs Salvadore.’

‘Eli, this is Agent Lovett from the FBI.’

Eli’s eyes widened. ‘FBI? Is somebody getting busted?’

‘No,’ Jane said with a laugh. ‘Agent Lovett is not here on an investigation. He’s just trying to help Dylan’s parents come to grips with what happened.’

Eli’s head dropped and he stared at the floor. ‘Oh.’

‘You and Dylan were pretty good friends, weren’t you?’

‘We were. I mean, like last year – even the beginning of school this year. But then, like, he freaked out. He didn’t want anybody near him. You got too close and he’d back away.’

‘Do you know what was bothering Dylan?’

Eli shrugged. ‘I really need to get to class, Mrs Salvadore.’

‘Go ahead, Eli,’ she said. ‘Well, that wasn’t much help. Let’s swing by the cafeteria. It’s time for the third and final lunch period of the day.’

The noise level in the cafeteria was even higher than it had been in the hallways during class change. In there, hundreds of simultaneous conversations mingled with the ring of dropped silverware, the slam of trays slapped on tables, the clatter of serving spoons against stainless steel bins as workers scooped food onto students’ plates.

‘Not an environment conducive to good digestion, is it?’ Jane said with a laugh.

‘I won’t be bringing a date here.’

‘Oh, look,’ she said, pointing across the room. ‘There’s Becky Carpenter.’

‘The blonde?’

‘Yes. The one in the black T-shirt and black jeans.’

She was a petite girl with a pretty face but her expression was so solemn and sad, Jake had a hard time imagining it with a smile.

‘She’s so quiet, it’s painful,’ Jane said. ‘She’s not one of my students but her counselor told me that it takes a major effort to get her to say anything but “yes,” “no” or “I don’t know.”’

‘Great. Her mother’s supposed to bring her in to talk to me this afternoon. That’ll be a fun conversation.’

‘Good luck with that.’

They made their way back to the front of the school. As they stood in front of the doors to the outside, Jane said, ‘I am nearly certain that Dylan committed suicide but if I’m wrong, I want you to find whoever hurt that boy and hold him accountable.’

‘Any idea who that might be?’

‘I know I mentioned the Childress boy but I’m sure he couldn’t have done it. He doesn’t have it in him. I guess if I were theorizing about possible culprits, I’d look closer to home. I’d look at Seth O’Hara.’

TWENTY-FOUR

 

L
ucinda called the sheriffs of Powatan and Goochland Counties without any luck. Her fortunes changed when she placed a called to Hanover County. ‘Yes, I paid a visit to 2210 Churchill Lane. I called your chief and gave him a heads-up first. Is there a problem?’

Lucinda rolled her eyes at the knowledge that the chief was aware of his visit. It boggled her mind to think that he didn’t recognize the address where a leading citizen was recently murdered. ‘No problem with your call on the house but I got a blistering phone call from Frank Eagleton. He thought I put you up to it.’

‘He’s an ass. He went nuts before I even talked. What’s his problem? I mean, I know his wife just died but there was no need to talk to me like that.’

‘Sheriff, do you know how his wife died?’

‘Nah. Eagleton didn’t say.’

‘She was murdered.’

‘You’re kidding me? In that house?’

‘Yes. I just released it today.’

‘You think the husband did it?’

‘Maybe, but right now I’m following a slightly more promising lead. Could you tell me why you went looking for Candace Eagleton?’

‘Well, I got a murder up here and I found her nickname and a phone number written on a piece of paper in the victim’s apartment. It was the best lead we had but since we can’t talk to her, we’re back to square one.’

‘Who was killed?’

‘Some fella named Charles David Rowland. Not a big-time criminal. Pretty much just a sad sack plodding along in life looking for his rightful place in the world long after he should’ve found it.’

‘How was he killed?’

‘Trapped in an alley behind a grocery store and run down like a dog. The last few minutes of his life musta been hell.’

‘It wasn’t just a hit-and-run?’

‘Nope. Whoever drove that vehicle left enough marks back there to make re-creation a breeze – he did it on purpose, all right. On top of that, the dead guy had no wallet, no money, no cell phone. Not a thing in his pockets except one small item.’

‘What was that?’ Lucinda asked.

‘A business card. Now here’s the really weird part – it was an FBI business card.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘Nah. Wouldn’t do that. Pretty strange, though, isn’t it?’

‘Stranger than you know,’ Lucinda said. ‘It was Jake Lovett’s card, wasn’t it?’

‘How did you know that?’

‘We work together from time to time. And it looks like fate has just brought us together again. Do you have any idea of the connection between Candace Eagleton and Charles David Rowland?’

‘Not a clue. In fact, I was right surprised when that phone number led me to an affluent community. Seemed a little out of Rowland’s class.’

‘Still, looks like we’ll be working this case together, Sheriff. I’ll put the research department to work finding the connection between those two victims. Maybe if we do the wicked witch will allow Agent Lovett to join us in the investigation.’

‘I called that woman to set her straight but she never returned my calls. I never thought Lovett was a suspect. I wouldn’t have called him to the crime scene if I thought he was.’

‘When we find the link, I’ll get the chief to call her. She’ll have to return his call. Anything else I should know about?’

‘There were two more names on that scrap of paper we found: Tess and Bonnie. Next to Bonnie’s name he wrote “Find her” in all caps. He also wrote “unknown” and a question mark,’ the sheriff said.

‘Not particularly useful unless the connection between Candace and Rowland somehow brings us closer to knowing their identities. I’ll get back to you as soon as I find anything or learn something new.’

‘And I’ll do the same. Nice talking to you, Pierce.’

Lucinda disconnected the call and pushed in the extension of Lara Quivey in research. ‘Hi, this is Lieutenant Pierce.’

‘Did the report have everything you needed?’

‘The report?’ Lucinda said, looking across the desk surface for an overlooked document.

‘Yes. I emailed it. Everything you wanted to know about Scott Technologies and a few things you could probably live without.’

‘I’ll check for that as soon as I get off this call. I have another request now.’ Lucinda ran down the two names and everything she knew about them.

‘Do you need that today?’ Lara asked.

Lucinda was tempted to say ‘yes’ but if she did, she’d feel guilty making her work late when it wasn’t a genuine emergency. ‘No. But can it be a priority in the morning?’

‘Sure can, Lieutenant. I’ll be here for about another half hour if you think of something else you need.’

Pulling up her email, Lucinda spotted the one she wanted right away. She opened the attachment and scrolled down, scanning through the document. She didn’t see anything of interest until she passed the narrative section of the report and hit the timeline. She read it and passed by it at first before it hit her. She scrolled back, looking for the name that she thought should have popped out right away. She smiled when she found the entry. October 29: Bartholomew Scott hands over the reins of the corporation to his daughter Tess Middleton. Tess. Not a very common name. And the email came from Scott Technologies. What if the unknown person using the [email protected] address was the CEO herself? She grabbed the receiver and called down to Lara again. She was pleased when the call was answered. ‘When you find something that puts Candace Eagleton and Charles Rowland together, see if it also pulls in Tess Middleton, the CEO of Scott Technologies.’

‘Wow. Really?’

‘You know her?

‘My choice for senate.’

‘You might want to hold off on that decision for a little while and get me a detailed bio on Middleton, too.’

‘Maybe I should work late tonight?’

‘I’m not asking you to do that.’

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