Giving Up the Ghost (18 page)

Andy Gorsky, the science and math chairman, finally said, "Tim, since time is of the
essence, we'd appreciate hearing about the call you received."

The principal's jaw tightened, the only indication of his displeasure at having his speech
cut short.

"It came at eleven minutes past ten to my private number. I was informed a bomb would
explode in the high school in half an hour. Police Chief Rollins called in the county police. They
traced the call to the bagel shop one block from here. As we speak, officers are searching the
building for incendiary devices."

"Tim, we understand you recognized the caller's voice," Suzanne Lindstrom said. "Are
you going to tell us who it is?"

The facial expressions of various faculty members reflected disgust, derision, and anger.
They neither like him nor respect him.

Tim Jordan ran his finger inside his collar. Finally he said, "I can't say for certain,
especially since the voice was muffled."

"May we assume this is the work of Barrett Connelly and Todd Ross?" Andy said in a
reasonable tone. "They're our worst trouble makers, and both were absent from their fourth period
classes."

Tim blinked, seemingly surprised by this bit of news. "We can't assume anything at this
time," he said quickly. "A false accusation could lead to a lawsuit."

"Did anyone see Barrett and Ross near the bagel shop?" Gabbie said without
thinking.

Tim looked over everyone's heads, but not before she caught sight of his eyes darting
frantically from side to side. "Yes, Mr. Garcia, the owner, saw them there this morning, but neither
he nor his wife can say for certain that they were still on the premises at the time of the call."

One of the social studies teachers chuckled. "Translated: until they're caught
red-handed, those two are free to pull this again anytime they like."

Tim Jordan glared at him. "Don't be a fool, Phil. They've been taken to the police station
for questioning. That is, they'll be questioned as soon as their lawyers arrive. You of all people
should have faith in our legal system and our honorable police department."

"Maybe I would if they weren't exhuming a murder victim they claimed earlier was an
accidental death."

A murmur rose, grew to a loud din, as teachers asked each other what the hell Phil was
talking about. Gabbie felt her cheeks burn on Darren's behalf. It was an oversight, not stupidity, that
he'd declared Cam's death an accident. More important, how had Phil found out about the
exhumation so quickly?

"Quiet, please! Quiet!" Tim shouted.

He sounded desperate. He was in a tough spot, eager to give the impression he was on
top of the situation, yet reluctant to name names and risk a lawsuit. But his egotistical arrogance
prevented Gabbie from feeling any sympathy.

"You're free to go home now," Tim concluded. "If you learn anything about the bomb
scare--and I don't mean hearsay or speculation--please contact the police. I'll see you all tomorrow
morning." He made a hasty exit before anyone could question him further.

* * * *

Wet flakes floated from a dim gray sky, melting as they reached the ground. Gabbie
pulled up the hood of her parka and hurried toward her car. She slipped into reverse and zipped out
of the parking lot, eager to put distance between herself and the high school. She was filled with
impotent rage--toward the two juvenile delinquents who had the power to shut down a high school,
and at Tim Jordan, who didn't have the balls to take a stand and mete out the punishment they
deserved. The idiot! Didn't he realize his passivity only encouraged Todd and Barrett to pull more
dangerous stunts as they thumbed their noses at school authorities and the law?

The traffic light turned red, and she screeched to a halt. While she had faith in Darren's
interrogating skills, Barrett would be a tough nut to crack. Todd was younger and more vulnerable,
but his wealthy parents would see to it he had a lawyer skilled at damage control. At best, the boys
would be fined or receive a suspended sentence. At least it would be something.

As she approached the Long Island Expressway, she made a sudden decision to drive to
the mall, fifteen miles away. The snow still wasn't sticking, and mindless window shopping was
guaranteed to erase all thoughts of bullies and bomb scares from her mind.

Her first stop was at a bookstore. She indulged in one of her favorite pastimes,
skimming through novels in hopes of adding titles to her must-read list. She also flipped through
coffee-table photography books, seeking inspiration for future Photography Club projects. One day
she'd have them photograph old houses in Chrissom Harbor. Another afternoon they'd go down to
the beach and take shots of the sand, the water, and the sky.

She suddenly remembered that Barrett and Ross had accosted Charlie and had taken the
memory card from his camera. The thought led her back to the bomb scare and to Cam's murder.
Gabbie shivered. Chrissom Harbor was a dangerous place.

Oh, right. It's a jungle out there. Get a grip and cut out the melodrama and negative
thoughts. Determined to put action to thought, she marched into the first department store she
came to, and lost herself amidst the cosmetics and perfumes she used so sparingly.

An hour later, as her fingers stroked a cashmere turtleneck she couldn't afford, Gabbie's
stomach began to growl. She was famished; it was close to three o'clock. At a café in the food
court, she bought a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee and ate quickly, oblivious to the stream of
shoppers passing in both directions.

"Hey, Ms. Meyerson! How's it going?"

Startled, Gabbie looked up into Barrett's grinning face. Beside him Todd had a
malevolent gleam in his eye, as though he were waiting for something nasty to happen. I won't give
them the satisfaction of uttering one word. Though she'd lost all appetite, she raised her coffee cup
to her lips, and was furious to see her hand was trembling.

Barrett nudged Todd. "We heard there were big doings at school today, didn't we,
Todd?"

The smaller boy giggled, his body quivering with pent up energy. "Right-o. Too bad we
were absent and missed all the excitement."

When she made no reply, Barrett nodded, an arrogant smirk on his lips. "At least you got
some shopping done. Looks like the bomb threat was a gift to everyone, doesn't it?"

Gabbie quivered with fury. They were high on their victory. Darren must have
questioned them, but had to let them go. Now they were taunting her about it.

Still, they were children, she told herself. Teenagers who were out of control partly
because their wimp of a principal allowed them to ride roughshod over poor kids like Charlie
Russell. On the other hand, Barrett was her student. If she backed down now, she'd never be able to
discipline him unless she sent him to the office every day.

She met Barrett's mocking blue eyes. "A bomb threat's no joke, Barrett. I'm surprised
the police released you so quickly."

"They had to since we didn't do anything," Todd said. "Right, Barrett?" They slapped
their thighs and laughed.

The sound grated on her nerves. Impotent rage made her blurt out the first lie that came
to mind. "I suppose they had to let you go for now." She forced her lips into a knowing smile as she
slowly panned from one to the other. "But they'll bring you in again, soon as they hear all the facts
from their secret witness."

The antics stopped. Todd's face went white. "What witness? Who?"

Gabbie hid her delight with a shrug. "I've no idea. It's something we heard at school
before we left for the day."

She nibbled at her sandwich, pretending not to notice that Barrett's face had turned
grim. His hands closed into fists. "Then somebody's lying."

"Lots of kids go to the bagel shop," she said. "It's only logical that someone would have
seen who made the call."

Barrett's eyes rolled up as if he were trying to remember who'd been at the bagel shop
that morning. He grabbed Todd's arm. "Come on. We gotta go." His eyes, now devoid of all
expression, turned on Gabbie. "See you tomorrow, Ms. Meyerson."

It sounded like a threat.

As soon as they disappeared from sight, Gabbie disposed of the rest of her lunch and
headed for her car, berating herself every step of the way. She was the adult, a member of the high
school faculty. Regardless of the provocation, she should have remained calm and collected.
Inventing an eye witness to their crime had to be the most pathetic thing she'd done in weeks.
Surely Barrett and Todd had checked to see they were alone when they called in the bomb
scare.

Still, they'd gotten upset when she'd mentioned her fictitious witness, which made her
wonder if some kid had been in the vicinity when they made the call. Darren and his dim-witted
deputy couldn't possibly question every student, one at a time, to find out if anyone had seen them.
And a general appeal wouldn't work. Too many kids were frightened of Barrett and Todd.

She discovered three inches of wet snow had fallen while she'd been inside the mall. As
she drove cautiously along the slushy road that led to the Expressway, she spotted a supermarket
and decided to stop for groceries for tonight's dinner.

The place was mobbed with shoppers obviously panicked by the snow. Gabbie put a
package of chicken breasts in her wagon for the one decent chicken dish she knew how to prepare,
and then went up and down the aisles in search of eggs, breadcrumbs, lemons, salad, and
couscous.

Even the express checkout line was long. Dusk had fallen by the time she placed the
grocery bags in the trunk of her car. On impulse, she walked over to a bakery two doors down from
the supermarket and bought a small chocolate cake. Back in the Volvo, she turned on the radio and
heard the Expressway was at a standstill. She'd have to take local roads home.

An hour later she was back in Chrissom Harbor. The plow had cleared the main streets,
but her road had been ignored, she discovered, when her car skidded into the turn. She inched her
way home, wishing she'd remembered to buy kitty litter to sprinkle along the icy, rutted
driveway.

The loud scraping noise coming from the vicinity of the cottage startled her so, she
almost swerved into one of the pine trees fronting the property. She straightened the wheel and
drove past the driveway entrance. A pick-up truck equipped with a snow plow was clearing her
driveway. Gabbie backed up, leaving plenty of room for the driver to maneuver onto the road in
case he hadn't seen her.

When the pickup finished its task, the driver pulled up beside her Volvo.The driver was
Jack McMahon. He opened his window, and motioned to her to do the same.

"Hey, Gabbie. Mary Hanley called, said to be sure to do you first. Looks like I finished
just in time." He grinned, showing the space between his two front teeth.

"Thanks, Jack. I sure appreciate it."

"I was surprised to find you out this afternoon. I guess a little bit of snow doesn't scare
you like it does some folks."

"The driveway scares me more than the snow," she said. "It's so rutted and icy, I worry
I'll skid right into the cottage."

Jack rubbed his head under the woolen hat. "It sure is in awful condition. Come the
spring, Roland ought to have it black-topped. Be sure to tell him so if you run into him."

Gabbie stared in astonishment. "I thought Roland lived in Atlanta, when he's not off
excavating in Africa."

"He does, but he's coming home to CH, now that Darren's all fired up that Cam's death
was no accident." His inky blue eyes seemed to bore into hers. "I wonder who stirred him up with
that notion."

Gabbie discovered her hands were trembling. She clenched them tight in her lap. "I've
no idea. Maybe he found something among Cam's things that made him think someone hated Cam
enough to kill him."

"Like what?" Jack demanded.

Gabbie shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

He snorted. "Darren didn't say Roland found anything like that."

"Oh? When did you talk to Darren?"

"This afternoon, soon as he finished giving those rotten kids the third degree." He shook
his head in wonder. "I watched them leave the station whooping with joy. Boy, I hope they get what
they deserve and real soon."

"Why did Darren have you come to the station?" Gabbie said, trying to sound as
innocent as she could.

"Same old, same old. Went over where I was the day Cam died. If I'd seen him, which I
didn't. A few other things. Told me they're going to exhume the body on Friday." Jack gave a
mirthless laugh. "What's left of it."

Gabbie shuddered. Poor Cam. He must be waiting to speak to her this very minute.
"Well, thanks for clearing the driveway, Jack. What do I owe you?"

"Not one cent. Roland pays. See ya around." He drove off.

Gabbie pulled into the driveway and gathered up the cake and two bags of groceries.
The phone was ringing as she unlocked the front door. She dashed into the kitchen and picked it up,
smiling when she heard Darren on the other end.

"I've been trying to reach you all afternoon," he said by way of a greeting. "Where have
you been?"

"And hello to you, too," she said.

"You really have to get a cell phone," he said.

"I will. When I get my first paycheck."

"I'll lend you the money. Hell, I'll treat you to a cell phone. There's a murderer on the
loose."

Gabbie felt her irritation rising. "Darren, please! I'll be careful. I promise."

"Sorry," he said, picking up on her tone. "I know you don't want me to play bodyguard. It
used to drive my wife crazy. But I get this way when I'm stressed out. It's been that kind of
day."

She set everything down on the counter. "I can imagine, dealing with a bomb threat and
investigating a murder."

He gave a mirthless chuckle. "And getting nowhere fast."

"Jack was clearing off my driveway when I came home. He said you'd been asking him
questions."