School's Out for Murder (Schooled in Murder Book 2) (9 page)

Since her duties at the carnival were through, she decided she might as well kill some time (poor choice of words, she mentally scolded herself) by taking care of some of those pesky, but necessary, household chores. Casting one look back at the slowly disintegrating carnival, she hopped in her Versa Note and pointed it toward the grocery store. Her stock of caffeine was woefully depleted and she knew she'd need a shot of soda-fueled courage for her meeting later that night.

*   *   *

As she was contemplating a selection of ripe strawberries in the produce section of their local grocery store, a cart bumped against the back of her legs. She didn't look up as she figured someone had simply turned too sharply in the narrow aisles. But when the car bumped her legs a second time, she whirled around, ready to give someone a piece of her mind. The tall, lanky frame of Greg smiled back at her, cooling the fire sparking in her eyes. "You're like an annoying older brother, you know that?" Emily asked him, but she was smiling.

"Yep," Greg said. "But you're stuck with me. Any news? Gabby's been about fit to be tied. She's tried to call you multiple times, but said you never pick up. And here I find you nonchalantly picking out strawberries." He laughed, but Emily knew there was probably a lot of truth behind his words.

"I still can't find my phone," she defended herself.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. You never found it last night, huh?"

"Nope. I can't imagine where it's gotten off to. I'm glad I'm not one of those people who are used to having my phone glued to me. But I'm glad I ran into you."

"What's up?" Greg asked, frowning at the serious look on Emily's face.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching them, Emily slipped the note from the front pocket of her purse. "I found this."

Greg took the note from her and held it by the edges as she had. As he read the short missive, his eyes grew large. "Em, what is this? You're not actually considering going through with this, are you?"

Emily crossed her arms and frowned. "That's what I expected Tad to say."

"You mean you haven't told him yet?" Greg's eyes grew even larger, if such a thing was possible.

"No, he was busy with Maclaine. On Mathletes business," she clarified when Greg's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't sure what to do at first, and it's probably all nonsense anyway, but I'm—curious," she finished with a shrug.

Greg handed the note back to her and asked, "You know what killed the cat, right?"

"Oh, I'll be fine." Emily waved away his concern as she returned the note to her purse. "I know how to take care of myself." When Greg scoffed, she said, "Really. I'll bring my mace."

"But no phone," Greg reminded her. "Why don't you take mine?"

"Because yours is too fancy for me to understand how to use. I'd be a goner before I figured out how to dial 9-1-1." When Greg started to glower, she threw up her hands in surrender. "Kidding, kidding. How about if I come by your place after the meeting? If anyone shows up, that is."

"I don't like it, but I can see there's no stopping you. Right?" he asked hopefully. When she nodded, he sighed and added, "So I guess I'll take it. But you know Gabby's going to be furious."

Emily winced. "Don't tell her."

"You know as well as I do that will never work. You two have some telepathic connection. She'll know something's up and worm it out of me. Just promise me one thing?"

"What?" Emily asked cautiously.

"If you do get any important information, you'll turn it over to Detective Welks right away."

"Of course," Emily promised. Greg didn't need to know she had her fingers crossed behind her back.

All through saying good-bye to Greg, finishing her shopping, and checking out, Emily tried to figure the odds of someone actually showing up at the Ferris wheel that night. Although she had tried to put on a brave face with Greg, she was nervous. She had no idea why the murderer, if that's who had left the note, would be after her. She had no connection with Mayor McBain. Still, as she drove home from the store, she almost turned and headed in the direction of the police station. She didn't want to head blindly into a suicide mission, but the thought of Amelia's scared face when Gangly-Arms loaded her in the police car stopped her. She knew she had to do whatever she could to help prove her friend's innocence. She hadn't heard from anyone yet and had no idea how the arraignment had gone. For all she knew, Amelia might still be sitting in jail, scared and alone, at that very minute. She'd find out what she could, but she wouldn't be going into this meeting blind, as Mayor McBain had. She might even be able to turn the tables on this note-writer.

As she unloaded her groceries, she ran through her checklist in her mind. First things first, she dug out her one pair of tennis shoes that had seen little use, except for when Gabby or Tad managed to drag her out to the gym or for a quick run. Exercise and Emily were
not
friends. She added a pair of dark leggings and a black hoodie, but she didn't feel complete until she added the weight of her trusty .38 special to the front pocket of her baggy sweatshirt. Emily even added her can of mace. She hadn't been kidding when she'd told Greg she could take care of herself. Hopeful of finding out some information that might help Amelia, Emily headed to meet the mysterious note-writer at the Ferris wheel.

Emily parked her car a good block away from the empty lot that housed the school carnival. She wanted to keep anyone who might actually show up from spotting her first. As she made her way onto the grounds, she was struck by how quickly the carnival atmosphere had disappeared now that the booths had been dismantled, and all that remained were the dark, empty carnival rides that would be pulled out of town tomorrow. The Ferris wheel loomed above the rest of the rides, and Emily thought back to just two nights ago when she and Tad had sat at the very top, surveying all of the joy below. Things had certainly changed since then. The Ferris wheel now looked like some type of ancient contraption, possibly used as a torture device, as she circled around the hulking machine. She saw no one. She checked her watch. It was 8:27 p.m.

The night was unseasonably cold, so she pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt. Tucking her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie for warmth, she felt the reassuring presence of the cold steel of her .38 special. She decided a higher vantage point would give her the upper hand in this meeting, so she walked up the steps that led to the first car of the ride. The car rocked slightly in the wind, as if pushed by a ghostly hand, and Emily suppressed a shudder as she settled on the cracked leather seat. She scanned the grounds carefully, searching the shadows, but still she detected no movement. She checked her watch yet again. It was now 8:29 p.m. She did not for one second believe someone would actually show up for this meeting, but her eyes continued to rove over the desolate carnival grounds as her mind spun with all of the things that she'd seen or heard since Mayor McBain's murder, from Larry's rumored affair with Amelia to the intense discussion she had witnessed between Larry and Susanna earlier that day. Who in Mayor McBain's life could possibly have hated her enough to want her dead? Unbidden, Maclaine's face swam before her eyes, but Emily blinked the image away. Maclaine dearly loved her aunt who had been more like a mother to her over the years. Maclaine would never have harmed Janice, even if she did stand to inherit a princely sum. Right?

She looked up at the cold stars above her, wondering if they alone were the only ones who truly knew what had happened the fateful night the mayor was murdered because it didn't look like anyone was going to show for this supposed clandestine meeting. She had figured as much, but she decided to wait a few minutes more. She would use the time to run through her list of suspects. First, there was Larry McBain, the widower. He could have gotten rid of his wife in order to inherit her rather large fortune and to clear the way to be with his mistress, if she existed. Obviously, Amelia and he were not involved, no matter what the rumor mill insisted, but what about Susanna? Could they have rekindled their old high school romance? Was that a lovers' quarrel she had witnessed earlier? And thinking of Susanna, could she have finally gotten revenge on Janice for taking Larry away from her all those years before? Was Janice's campaign to cut funding for new library acquisitions the final straw for her? It was hard to believe that anyone could think that murder was the answer to their problems, but the fact remained that someone had murdered Mayor McBain in cold blood.

Emily looked out over the empty lot, and she could just see the spot where the English department's booth had been set up. Who had asked the mayor to meet him or her that night? Had the same person left a note for Emily to meet at the Ferris wheel tonight? Nervously, she looked around her. The wind had died down, and there was no other movement on the grounds that she could detect. Still, she tucked her hands more securely into her sweatshirt's front pocket, her hand resting lightly on her gun. She would wait a few more minutes, but that was it. The whole note must have been the hoax she originally pegged it for.

Resuming her study of the stars, Emily continued to run through suspects in her mind. Could she really leave Maclaine off the list? Yes, she loved her aunt, but did she love money more? If her aunt had really changed her will to leave everything to her and not Larry because of his rumored affair, would she have gotten rid of her aunt to inherit her fortune? As much as Maclaine bugged her at times, she really didn't want to believe her capable of such a heinous act. She had clearly not had it easy growing up, but Emily hoped she would continue to grow into a contented, independent young woman. She was now one of their fellow teachers, and Emily wanted to believe that she had nothing but the best interests of her students at heart. Besides, Tad was typically a pretty good judge of character, and he seemed to think she was on the up and up. But who was her supposed boyfriend? Was he just a fictional character Maclaine had made up so that Emily would overlook her monopolization of Tad's time, allowing her to swoop in and make her own move on him Emily felt her blood boil at the very thought. She had to remind herself that this was all supposition. She couldn't make a judgment on Maclaine's motives until she had more information. Still, she decided to focus her thoughts on someone else for the time being.

Amelia was next on the list. Of course Emily didn't think she was guilty, but she was trying to view things as the police might. It looked like the note that she had found behind her booth and turned over to the police was somehow providing physical evidence to incriminate Amelia. If they found matching paper at her home, that might be harder to explain away, though not impossible. But if the matching paper was found at Amelia's office, then anyone she had as a patient could have managed to steal some. Larry was a frequent visitor to Amelia's clinic, and he had even been there the night of Janice's murder. Did the scrap of paper she'd found actually implicate Larry instead? She decided she'd stop by for her obligatory check-in with Gabby and Greg once she was done at the carnival, but then she was headed to check on Amelia. Surely she was home by now.

So who did that leave to consider as a suspect? Gangly-Arms had asked her an inordinate amount of questions about Superintendent Johnson. Yes, he was clearly upset about the mayor's initiative to get rid of the school carnival, but would that make him mad enough to kill? It didn't make sense. And then there was also the argument she had overheard between the superintendent and Larry. What had Superintendent Johnson meant by calling Larry "cuckolded"? People in town had often made wisecracks about Larry McBain being a "kept man" as he was a fairly unsuccessful businessman, having started several businesses only to see them flop, while his wife had a promising political career and her family fortune behind her. Larry always seemed to take the ribbing in stride, eventually giving up his business attempts and working instead as his wife's campaign manager. But what if Superintendent Johnson meant that Janice was the one having the affair? That would shed a whole new light on things. In fact—

Emily was startled out of her thoughts by the sudden grinding sound that emanated from the gearbox at the side of the Ferris wheel. She started to stand and see what or who had caused the sound when the car she was sitting in suddenly shifted and began to ascend. Caught off balance, Emily threw the safety bar shut to keep from falling out. To her utter astonishment, the car continued to climb. Who had started the ride? She frantically searched the shadows below, but still saw no sign of anyone. Just as the car she was riding in reached the top, right where she and Tad had stopped the other night, it abruptly quit. Emily began yelling for help, while still searching for any sign of life. Just as she drew in a breath to call for help again, she saw a hooded figure streaking away from the ride and making its way further into the carnival grounds. The figure was too far away to determine if it was male or female, but whoever it was, they moved quickly, avoiding the puddles of light given off by street lamps.

"Hey!" Emily screamed at the retreating figure's back. Just beyond the last circle of light, the figure stopped and turned back.

Emily waved frantically, yelling, "Come back! Don't leave me here!"

The figure stood still for a moment and Emily prayed whoever it was had decided to come back for her. But instead of moving towards her, the figure gave a jaunty wave and then turned and disappeared into the darkness beyond the carnival grounds. Emily got the impression the figure was tall, but with a bulky sweatshirt or coat on, it was hard to tell if the figure was slender or on the heavier side. And from this distance, it was impossible to determine any distinguishing characteristics. She couldn't even tell if the person was male or female. Emily yelled once again, but then decided that act was useless. The carnival grounds were deserted, and there was no way she could yell loud enough to attract the attention of someone on the street.

The Ferris wheel sat in a pool of blackness, illuminated only by the stars. The wind was picking up again, and Emily felt buffeted by the strong breezes so far above the ground. The car rocked violently, but Emily struggled to think logically as her teeth chattered from both cold and fear. Was the person who started the ride the same one who had written the note? If so, why had they done this to her? What did this prove? A thousand questions swirled in her mind, but the preeminent one was how she was going to get down from here. Staring at the ground far below, Emily had a sudden flashback to watching an old
Waltons
rerun, the one where Elizabeth dreamt she was falling off the Ferris wheel. The thought had her leaning back in the car, her breath coming in unsteady gulps. Although she had made light of Tad's fear of heights, she suddenly felt the same fear taking over every cell in her body. Apparently climbing down was not going to be an option for her.

She had no cell phone, so she couldn't call anyone. She guessed she could fire a warning shot in the air with her gun, but would people realize where it was coming from? Shivering, she resolved that her only course of action was to wait. Gabby and Greg were expecting her to come by after this "meeting" that had now gone so drastically wrong. When she didn't show up, they would send out a search party. She thanked her lucky stars that she had run into Greg at the grocery store and shown him the note. He knew both where she was and what time she was supposed to meet the note-writer. All she could now do was wait.

Not a patient person by nature, Emily felt her anxiety growing as the minutes ticked by, the only sound the ominous creaking of the car in the wind and her own ragged breaths. She tried to consciously regulate her breathing and steady her racing pulse, but it was no use. She tried yelling for help a few more times, but her voice was rough with tears, and eventually she gave up. She scanned the carnival area again, praying someone would return to finish packing up or to check on the remaining carnival rides.

As her eyes scanned the grounds, she became aware of a gradual lightening of the sky. The sun had set hours before, but now an orange glow once again lit up the far horizon. Emily focused on the patch of light, trying to determine its source. About the same time the first acrid hint of smoke filled her nostrils, she saw the dart and rise of flames. Something was on fire, and it was something big! Emily watched the flames rise higher as the smell of smoke grew stronger. The first piercing wail of a siren filled the night. From her Ferris wheel prison, she could just make out the flashing lights on the fire engine as it passed by the screening presence of trees. From the direction the emergency vehicle was traveling and the number of trees blocking its lights, Emily surmised that the fire was somewhere near the town's square. When the engine came to a stop, she was almost certain that they were in front of the library. But no, the trees were making it hard for her to figure exact locations. The library would be closer to her than where she could see the lights whirling and flashing in the dark. That had to mean that the fire was located behind the library. And then it hit her. Susanna's house! Susanna lived in a cute little cottage-style home that sat behind the library, giving her constant access to the job that was her life.

Emily wished desperately for her phone, or that Gabby and Greg would come looking for her. Surely enough time had passed that they would be wondering where she was. Would the fire draw their attention instead? The flames were definitely higher now than they had been. Was Susanna okay? Emily swiped at tears of frustration as she once again looked for any sign of life below her. At first she thought she was imagining things when she heard her name called, but when she looked again, she saw a light bobbing its way toward her in the dark, and she clearly heard Greg's voice, hoarse with worry, shouting her name.

"Up here!" she screamed as loud as she could, cupping her hands around her mouth to form a type of megaphone. The light she had seen, Greg's flashlight, swooped upwards, instantly blinding her. She threw up her hands in defense as she heard a second voice, Gabby's, cry out, "What are you doing up there?"

"Enjoying the view! What do you think? Get me down from here!" Emily called back, her body quaking with adrenaline as she watched the fire continue to grow beyond the trees. She heard Gabby and Greg engage in a quick argument next to the gearbox, trying to determine which buttons and levers to press to lower the giant wheel. But within minutes, Emily watched the ground grow closer and closer. The second the car that had held her imprisoned touched the platform, she shot out the ride as if she had jet engines attached to her back. She flew down the steps and into Gabby's outstretched arms. Through hiccupping sobs, which would have humiliated her at any other time, she related the story of how she had waited for someone to show up for the meeting, and then without ever seeing a sign of anyone, the ride had started and she had ended up stuck at the top. "And now there's the fire!" Emily concluded, pointing to indicate the orange glow in the sky. Thankfully, the wind had died down, but she could still hear the roar of the flames, though they were somewhat muted by distance.