Bayview Heights Trilogy (54 page)

It was the last time he’d touched her, though
she’d called him late every night, after her grandfather had gone
to bed. The first time was to tell him she’d survived bringing
Philip home from the hospital. The second night, she’d needed to
talk about what had happened that day. Her voice was raw and he
knew she’d been crying. Though he hurt for her, he was glad she was
letting go with him, at least...

“It was awful,” she’d told him hoarsely. “We
had to pick out a casket. It’s oak, lined with red velvet.” Her
voice broke when she said, “Kevin always loved bright colors.”

“Oh, Lace, I wish I could help.”

“I wish you could hold me right now.”

“I’m there inside your heart, honey, even
though I can’t be with you.”

She sniffled. “If you were really that
superhero, you could fly over to my window and see me.”

He’d chuckled, glad she could forget for a
minute the grinding grief inside her.

Starting on Monday, he’d had business to take
care of. First there were the kids.

“Ms. Cartwright’s not coming?” Darcy had
asked when they met that afternoon to wrap presents for the party
coming up at the day-care center on Saturday. The smiling Santa
Claus paper mocked his mood, but Seth struggled not to spoil the
activity for the kids.

“No, Darce, she’s not coming.”

When he’d told the young girl about Lacey’s
brother, Darcy had been horrified. The way Nick had comforted her
was the only thing that had brought a smile to Seth’s lips in
days.

He wasn’t smiling at the task force meeting,
though. By Monday evening, most of the town had heard about Lacey’s
brother. But Monica Matthews was still on the warpath about last
week’s
Herald
. God, Seth remembered thinking, had the
editorial only come out five days before? It seemed like a lifetime
ago.

“I’m sorry about Kevin Cartwright,” Monica
had begun, “but we have to deal with Lacey writing that editorial.
She’s off this committee, I assume.”

Seth checked his temper. “Since there’s only
one meeting after this, and I doubt Lacey will have the energy to
attend, that’s a moot point. However, we need to clarify some
things.” He turned a blistering gaze on Leonard Small. “Don’t you
think we should do that, Leonard?”

The older man had squirmed, turned red, but
finally confessed, “Ms. Cartwright did not divulge the workings of
this committee.” He lifted his chin. “I did. The information is not
confidential, after all, and as the board’s representative, I found
it well within my rights to make public the proposals we’re
considering.”

He sounded so pompous Seth wanted to lash out
at him. But it was Linc McKenna who’d pounced. “And to whom did you
divulge
this information, Mr. Small.”

“Philip Cartwright.”

Linc said, “I knew Lacey wouldn’t turn on us.
She didn’t write the editorial, did she, Seth?”

“No,” Seth told the committee, “she
didn’t.”

Afterward, late Monday night—the night before
the funeral—he waited anxiously for Lacey to call. At eleven
o’clock she did. “I just needed to hear your voice,” she’d told
him.

The funeral service had been on Tuesday. Seth
had agonized over whether he should attend, acutely aware that if
Philip saw him, he might create a scene. Seth’s presence could
upset the old man so badly, Philip might have another heart attack.
In the end, though, Seth simply couldn’t stay away. He’d gone to
the church, stood in the anteroom behind a large pillar and watched
Lacey grieve for her brother. The church wasn’t big, and though
there were more people in the pews than he’d expected, it wasn’t
filled to capacity.

Lacey wore a dark blue suit trimmed in green.
Her flaxen hair was pulled into a knot at her neck. Her face was
pale and her eyes were hollow. He remembered wanting to go to her,
to hold her. Instead, he stood on the outside, watching Darcy and
Nick, Cassie and Mitch, Linc McKenna and others comfort her. And
standing there in the anteroom, Seth experienced his own sense of
overwhelming grief, accompanied by an insidious fear. Was he going
to be excluded permanently from Lacey’s life?

She’d called him late last night but he
managed to keep his fears to himself.

“I needed to talk to you,” she’d told
him.

“I needed to talk to you, too.”

“I wanted you there...today.”

“I was there, honey.” He told her what he’d
done without confessing his own sense of loss.

“Oh, Seth, I feel so bad that you had to hide
like that.”

Once again he’d marveled at this wonderful
woman’s sense of selflessness. “I was fine,” he lied. “Except
watching you suffer kills me, Lace.”

“Seth…” He could tell she was struggling not
to break down. “I’m going to the paper late tomorrow afternoon.
Celia’s taking Grandpa out for a drive. She’s been a godsend,
getting him to rest, getting his mind off...things.”

Seth’s heartbeat accelerated. “Would it be
all right if I stopped over at the paper?”

“I want you to…”

Which was where he was heading right now.
After a little detour, he thought, smiling to himself and pulling
over to the curb on Franklin Street.

o0o

OUT OF THE HOUSE, in the newspaper office
again, Lacey could finally breathe. The numbness of the last four
days was wearing off, and she’d had to do something normal,
something that didn’t deal with loss and grief. She’d come to the
Herald
at five. After hugs and consolation from her
employees, she was blessedly alone.

She walked into the office and to her desk.
Knife-sharp pain lanced through her when she glimpsed the picture
of Kevin and her on the wall behind the desk. It had been taken the
Christmas before he’d gone to prison. They sat by the tree,
surrounded by colorfully wrapped presents. Slowly she traced his
upturned nose, his smiling mouth, his chin that was just like hers.
Then she removed the photo from the wall and placed it in the
drawer, unable to bear looking at him and remembering Christmases
past. The thought of the holiday—just ten days away—without Kevin,
was unbearable.

She sank into her chair.

Waiting.

She didn’t lie to herself; she had come here
partly to get out of the house, but mostly she’d come to see Seth.
She’d missed him so much, she cried herself to sleep every night
wanting his arms around her, wanting him to take away some of this
horrible pain.

When she heard the bell over the door tinkle,
she hurried to the outer office.

And what she saw took her breath away.

Seth was standing—big and beautiful—in the
doorway, dressed in his tweed coat, scarf around his neck, his
gloved hands holding a squirming, red-faced baby boy. Josh.

Stunned, she watched Josh’s eyes sparkle when
he saw her. “Ace...Ace,” he babbled, reaching out his snowsuited
little arms to her.

Immobilized, she stood there while Seth
crossed the room, his eyes gleaming. Gently he handed the baby
over. She took Josh into her arms, burying her face in his bulkily
clothed body. She closed her eyes savoring the smell of baby powder
and shampoo. Happily Josh tugged at her hair, batted her head and
repeated, “Ace...Ace…”

Finally, when she was in control, she opened
her eyes and looked at Seth. His smile warmed every inch of her
that had been chilled for days. “How did you know to do this?”

He reached out and smoothed down her hair. “I
just knew.”

“How did you get him?”

“Mrs. Cornwall signed a release. Since you’re
considering foster care—they’re counting on that, Lace—it was
easy.”

“I love you,” she said.

“I love—”

But his declaration was cut off by the sound
of the bell over the door again. Both Lacey and Seth turned to the
entry. The baby cuddled into her and stuck his fingers in his mouth
when he saw the stranger standing in the doorway.

Tall, lanky and disturbingly lean, the man
surveyed the office with a practiced glance. His eyes landed on
Lacey and the baby, remaining cool. When they took in Seth, they
widened, almost imperceptibly. “I was looking for Philip
Cartwright.”

“He’s not here,” Lacey said. “May I help
you?”

“Ah, no.” The man gripped the envelope he
held. “I was just passing through Bayview Heights. I’ll catch up
with him another time.”

Seth crossed to the visitor. “Would you like
to leave that for Philip?” he asked, pointing to the envelope.

Casually, too casually, the stranger stuffed
the envelope inside his coat and shook his head. “No, thank you.
Sorry to interrupt.” As quickly as he’d come, the man was gone.

Lacey watched Seth. His back was stiff, his
hands curled into fists. “Seth,” she asked, snuggling Josh closer.
“What is it?”

He pivoted, his face carefully blank.

“Tell me.”

“The envelope he carried?”

“Yes.”

“The return address read Adams Private
Investigation.”

“I’VE FOUND SOMETHING.” Herb Adams looked
smug and self-satisfied as he stood before Philip in the den.

Philip leaned back into his leather chair and
released a heavy breath. It was a week since Kevin’s death, and
this was the first time he’d felt the constricting band of emotion
around his chest loosen. “Sit down.”

The tall, stoic man took a seat, his posture
straight, his eyes alert. With precise motions, he withdrew his
report from an envelope. “Do you want to read it, or should I
summarize?”

“Both. Tell me first.”

“Seth Taylor didn’t start out teaching at
Bayview Heights High School.”

Philip arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“He spent a year in a small rural district
just outside of Binghamton.”

“Why didn’t we know that?”

“He kept it a secret.” Adams produced another
set of papers. “Remember how you had that board member get a copy
of Taylor’s original application to Bayview Heights School
District?”

Philip nodded.

“Taylor left the space blank where it
requested former teaching experience.”

Philip steepled his hands. “Unethical, for
sure. Is it illegal, too?”

Adams gave him a silky smile. “That depends.
It’s a gray area. In any case, it’s definitely damaging to his
reputation. That’s what we’re after, isn’t it? To destroy his
reputation?”

Nodding, Philip asked, “What did he do?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Look at his
application first.”

Philip took the forms and scanned them. His
trained reporter’s eye caught the private investigator’s point
right away. Not only had Taylor failed to indicate his first job in
the space provided for previous teaching experience, he’d put an
asterisk in the blank and at the bottom had written a matching
asterisk followed by: traveled extensively in Europe—Paris,
Florence, Vienna, London.

Philip laughed for the first time in days.
“He lied on his application.”

“Withholding information can be construed as
lying. Regarding the travel, he
did
tour all those places.
Summers. Vacations. But he deliberately misled the school district
into thinking he’d taken the year off after college to do it.”
Adams stared hard at Philip. “To cover up what he’d done.”

Every muscle in Philip’s body tensed. “Tell
me.”

“Apparently Taylor was denied a second-year
contract at Carson City High School because of an incident with a
student.”

Philip braced himself. “A sexual
incident?”

“No.”

“What?”

“There was a troubled student, a boy named
Tim Johnson, in one of his English classes. Taylor took the kid
under his wing. He arranged for counseling, bailed him out of minor
scrapes, intervened on several occasions with the administration.
In one particular circumstance, the boy actually had a legal
hearing. Taylor testified on his behalf. He specified only good
things about Johnson’s progress. Even indicated he’d be willing to
work with the kid, the probation people, etcetera, if they’d give
the boy another chance.”

“That was…” For a minute, Philip felt
admiration for the twenty-one-year-old teacher Taylor had been.
Then he remembered Adams’s call two days ago, telling Philip he’d
run into Lacey and Taylor together in the newspaper office. Philip
gripped the edge of the desk. “So he tried to help a kid. That’s
more than he did for Kevin.” Philip’s voice broke. He took several
moments to compose himself. “Do we have anything to destroy the
man?”

“How about the fact that he lied for the
kid?”

“Lied?”

“Yes. The district was considering kicking
Johnson out of school on the grounds that he was a threat to
others. Taylor was asked on the stand if he had any knowledge of
the boy’s violent tendencies. Taylor said no. Later, it came out
that the boy had shown up twice at Taylor’s apartment, in bad shape
after a fight, and once Taylor had dragged him out of an
altercation in town.”

“So Taylor lied.”

“Yes.”

Philip thought of the disk with reports of
those kids who’d turned out well because of Taylor’s intervention,
despite their past mistakes. His heartbeat accelerated. “Make my
day. Tell me
this
kid let him down.”

“Big-time. Johnson raped a girl at school two
weeks after Taylor got him off. She was also badly beaten up.”

Stunned, Philip sank back on his chair. “My
God.”

Adams shifted in his seat, crossing his ankle
over his knee. “Some hotshot lawyer argued that the school district
shirked their responsibility by not getting Johnson the help he
needed. The attorney said that Taylor, as a representative of the
school, knew the kid needed help and didn’t get him the right kind.
Needless to say, nobody looked favorably on Taylor after that. Even
if the district hadn’t decided not to renew his contract, he
probably would have left. The town resented the hell out of him,
blamed him.” He grinned. “It got pretty messy.”