The Academy (Moving In Series Book 6) (11 page)

“Mr. Weiss told me you’d be here,” the man continued. “I didn’t believe him. You’re a standup guy, kid. I like that.”

“Thanks,” Herman said nervously.

“My name’s Greg,” the stranger said. “You know what you’re supposed to do?”

“No, sir,” Herman answered truthfully.

Greg chuckled. “Just Greg, kid. Okay?”

“Okay, Greg,” Herman said. It felt strange to call an adult by their first name. None of his parent’s friends let him.

“Good. Over at the case, there’s an archery trophy. Got the name Melissa Keller on it. See it?”

Herman moved closer to the trophies, spotted one with a female archer on it and saw the girl’s name on it.

“Yes,” Herman said, nodding. “It’s right here.”

“Good, good. Now listen, take it out of the case for me, would you?” Greg asked.

“It’s locked,” Herman said, looking over at him. “I don’t have a key.”

Greg muttered, snapped his fingers and a sharp crack rang out, causing Herman to jump.

The man chuckled. “Relax, kid. Everything’s alright. Check the lock, would you?”

“Sure,” Herman said. He reached out, took hold of the case’s large glass door, and pulled gently. It came open easily. “Oh, wow.”

Herman took the trophy out of the case. “Now what?”

“See the door at the end there?” Greg asked.

Herman turned, saw a small room and nodded.

“Okay, put the trophy just inside the door.”

Holding the trophy, which was surprisingly light, he carried it to the room. Herman bent down and put the small award over the threshold and onto the worn wooden floor. A quick look showed him shelf upon shelf of books. Most were old and battered paperbacks, many of them with a room number written in fat, black letters on the edges of the pages.

Required reading,
Herman thought, shuddering. He still remembered how much he had despised
I am the Cheese
.

He straightened up and turned around. “Anything else, Greg?”

“One more thing, and that’s it.”

“What is it?” Herman asked.

“Face the room and say Melissa Keller, and then Charles Roy,” Greg said. “Got it?”

“Sure,” Herman said. He changed position again, took a deep breath and voiced out the two names clearly.

The air got colder, and a breeze blew back his hair.

“Anything else?” Herman said.

“No,” Greg said from the shadow, “but Mr. Weiss says thank you, and so do I, kid. You’re alright.”

Herman turned around to reply, but Greg was gone. The man had vanished. Herman felt uneasy, but he shrugged it off.

It’s only because of all the weird stuff going on,
Herman told himself.
And why didn’t Mr. Weiss come?

Greg was nice enough, and it was always good to be complimented, but Herman had hoped to see the older man.

Oh well,
Herman thought, heading to the door.
Maybe I’ll see him again soon.

Chapter 29: Eddie Goes Back to School

After a couple of drinks at the Indian Leap Café, Eddie went back to the Academy. He was a little drunk, and he was okay with it. Larry was in intensive care, and Marilyn was still dead.

While Eddie had been knocking back shots of Southern Comfort, he had been doing some thinking. He had realized Larry’s vehicle was at school. Eddie didn’t know if Larry had taken the truck or the car into work, but he knew Larry wouldn’t have been able to drive it to the hospital. Which meant Larry’s vehicle was possibly unprotected. And Larry always left it unlocked. Larry trusted the kids at the Academy not to tamper with his stuff.

I wouldn’t trust them to tie their own shoes,
Eddie thought. He chuckled at the thought of the teens being supervised as they made bunny ears out of their laces, and bounced the front tire off a granite curb.

He muttered under his breath, turned into the back lot and parked his car. Eddie didn’t bother to check his parking job, he wasn’t a good driver when sober, and he knew it didn’t change when he was drinking.

Should I leave it running?
he asked himself. He shook his head, turned off the engine and tucked the keys into the glovebox.
Don’t want to lose those.

Eddie managed to get out of his Camry without any major mishaps – he had fallen more than once getting out of the car while drunk – and tried to see Larry’s car.

He couldn’t.

Wait,
Eddie thought, carefully turning around in a circle.
Am I in the right spot?

He was not. Eddie had driven to the back of Adrienne Hall, not the back of the Admin building. He scratched the back of his head, genuinely confused.

I know I wanted to park at Admin. Why didn’t I?

You have something to do for me,
a voice said.

Eddie straightened up. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Then he remembered the movie
Finding Nemo,
which he had watched with his nephew, and he grinned.

Are you my conscience?
he asked, snickering.

The stranger in his head laughed pleasantly.
Far, far from it, my young, inebriated friend. Merely someone who needs your assistance.

“What do you need?” Eddie asked. “I can do anything.”

I’m positive you can,
the voice replied.
Now, listen closely.

Eddie did so. In a short time, he knew what needed to be done. He used his key to get into Adrienne Hall. He turned on a hall light, staggered to the front, and discovered an open door. An archery trophy, which someone had left in the middle of the floor, nearly tripped him, but Eddie managed to catch himself.

He hummed and chatted to the silence as he pawed through shelf after shelf of books until he found what was required, an old, well-read copy of
The Maltese Falcon
by Dashiell Hammett. The cover had been torn off and the cheap yellow paper that the book was printed on felt dry and brittle beneath his fingers. Eddie held onto it as he picked up the trophy, exited the room, and traveled along the same hall back to the rear entrance. He made sure to turn the lights off before he started to walk towards his car.

No,
the voice said, bringing him up short.
You need to bring those to the library for me.

The library?
Eddie asked.
The one downtown?

No,
the stranger said, sighing.
The Weiss Library. Here, on campus. Do you remember?

“Yes,” Eddie said because he certainly did remember the Academy’s library.

And then he remembered something else. The room with the secret panel. The cubby hole behind the wall where he had placed a picture.

Oh,
Eddie thought.
You want these in there too.

Well done, Eddie,
the voice said.
Yes, put them away for me, please. Hopefully, there will be more for you to place there tomorrow.

Okie Dokie,
Eddie thought, snorting out a laugh. With a spring in his step and his brain still dulled with Southern Comfort, Eddie walked to the library. He stumbled along merrily, and he sang a little song to himself as he went. He wondered, dimly, why the stranger’s voice was so familiar to him.

Chapter 30: The Northfield Memorial Park

Brian sat on a bench, lit a cigar he knew he shouldn’t be smoking, and looked across Washington Street at Northfield Free Academy. From Main Street, he heard the bell in the steeple on City Hall chime six. A few hours earlier, Mitchell had called him and told him the police had requested he close the school for the remainder of the week.

Doubt it’ll happen
, Brian thought, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the evening air. He hoped it would, especially since there were at least two spirits wandering around the grounds.

He had seen Gregory Watson, the man who had come out of the letter in the Admin building. Brian had also caught sight of Nathaniel Weiss. The old man had been walking the paths between the buildings, pausing now and again to examine something.

Weiss was back where Brian could see him, heading towards the library. The old man glided up the steps and passed through the door.

What’s he doing?
Brian wondered.
Is there something he needs?

Brian’s question was answered several minutes later when Weiss reappeared. He was accompanied by two other people. They, too, exited the building without using the door and drifted easily down the stairs. The three of them were speaking to one another, and Brian couldn’t quite make out the conversation.

When they reached the border of the grounds, Brian looked at a Ford Mustang as it went by. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he kept watch on the three and then he stiffened.

For a long time, he didn’t move. He even forgot about his cigar, until the ash fell and struck his pant leg. Without a sound, Brian quickly swept the hot remnants off his leg, took the cigar out of his mouth and spat on the ground.

He knew one of the dead. And how couldn’t he?

Charlie
, Brian thought.
My God, it’s Charlie.

Chapter 31: Charlie Roy and
The Maltese Falcon
, 1989

Charlie Roy twisted in his seat, looked back at Annie Cochrane, and winked. She blushed slightly, shook her head and then nodded to the front of the room.

Charlie turned and saw Mr. Ricard. The teacher smiled at Charlie and asked, “Charlie, if you’re done attempting to woo Ms. Cochrane, would you care to tell me what the significance of President Roosevelt’s New Deal was?”

“I would love to, Mr. Ricard,” Charlie said, grinning. “Unfortunately, I can’t.”

“Did you forget to read the chapter?” Mr. Ricard asked. A hint of steel had entered his voice.

Charlie hesitated, ready to give a smart-aleck reply, but decided against it. “No, I didn’t forget. I left my book here at school.”

Mr. Ricard nodded. “Make sure you read it tonight, Charlie. And give me either a two-hundred-and-fifty-word essay on the New Deal’s significance or one on why you should have a Saturday detention.”

Charlie cleared his throat, nodded and said, “Yeah, I’ll have one on the New Deal tonight, Mr. Ricard.”

Mr. Ricard answered with a sincere smile. “Excellent, Charlie. I look forward to reading it.”

A moment later, the bell rang, and Mr. Ricard assigned them the next chapter that was to be read. Charlie made certain to grab an extra history book off the shelf.

Annie was waiting for him in the hall when he exited the room.

“You’re going to dig yourself into a hole one of these days,” she said, grinning. She looped her arm through his and hugged him tightly.

“Probably,” he agreed. They maneuvered through the press of other students, the younger kids moving aside for them. They were seniors, the undisputed kings, and queens of 1989. They ruled Northfield Free Academy.

Charlie and Annie walked into the stairwell and managed to get down to the first floor with relative ease. In a moment, they were out in the warm May air, the crowd dispersing. Charlie and Annie slowed down to a leisurely stroll as they followed the asphalt path to Adrienne Hall. She had her French class, and Charlie had “Books in Film,” his English elective.

“So,” she said as they climbed the granite steps into the building, “did you actually do the homework for this class?”

“Yeah,” Charlie answered, grinning. “We’re finishing up Dashiell Hammett’s
The Maltese Falcon
. It’s pretty damn good. Tomorrow, we’re supposed to watch the film with Humphrey Bogart in it, then do the whole ‘compare and contrast’ stuff.”

They entered Adrienne Hall and started up the stairs, making their way to the third floor, where Annie’s class was.

“Have you decided where you’re going to apply for college?” Annie asked hesitantly.

“No,” Charlie said, clearing his throat.

“Charlie, you need to go to college,” she said, pulling him off to a corner as people passed by. She looked at him earnestly, concern in her green eyes. “My father doesn’t like you anyway. If you don’t go to college, he’s going to dislike you even more.”

Charlie bristled at the mention of Annie’s dad. The man made life difficult for them. Roger Cochrane had gone to school with Charlie’s father, and those two hadn’t liked each other at all.

“Yeah,” Charlie finally said. “I know. My dad’s giving me a hard time about it, too. I’m not sure if I’m going to go to the Community College, or join the Army.”

Annie’s face became hard, anger flashing across it. “I don’t want you in the Army, Charles.”

He winced as she said his name.

“I don’t want you hurt,” she continued, “and I don’t want you to die.”

Charlie felt his own anger build up, but he fought it. “I know.”

Annie composed herself and said, “Okay. Can we talk about this later when I call you tonight?”

“Tonight?” Charlie said.

“Yes, tonight,” Annie said, grinning. “Did you forget that I’m going to see my grandmother right after school?”

Charlie groaned and then he said, “Yeah. I did.”

She stood up on her tiptoes, gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips and said, “Talk to you tonight, handsome. Go to class.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, grinning. He watched her go up the next flight of stairs, waved to her, and then went to Mr. White’s class.

The classroom was small, and seemed to be more of an afterthought than part of any actual floorplan. Mr. White, his long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail was standing at the head of the room. He nodded hello to Charlie. Charlie returned the nod, dropped down into his seat and dug his copy of Hammett’s book out of his backpack. The cover of his copy was missing, which was alright. Mr. White had given it to him, telling Charlie how someone would have thrown it out anyway.

Charlie glanced around the room and didn’t see Phil Roth.