Page 67 of Good Girls Lie
“It was dark. I looked up and saw...movement. An outline. Maybe I was seeing things. I can’t be certain.”
He examines the door with his Maglite. “It’s a sturdy lock, not broken. No scratch marks, doesn’t look like it was jimmied. Someone unlocked it.”
“That’s hard to believe. We’ve always been very careful about the keys, went to a keycard system a few years back for extra safety.”
“Who has access to the keys?”
“I have a master set to the school, obviously. I keep them in my safe. Security has the second set, which are kept in their offices. It’s attended twenty-four-seven. Impossible for one of the girls to sneak in and get a set.”
“But this is still an old-fashioned keyed lock, not one of your keycard accessible ones. We should double-check, just in case. Still have those secret societies?”
“Yes, some exist. They’re not openly sanctioned anymore, though. I keep a close eye on our girls, unlike some of my predecessors.”
“Secret societies?” Kate asks. She has appeared silently after circumnavigating the tiny platform.
“Social organizations outside the school’s normal activities. Little clubs that get together and raise spirits on campus.”
“Raise a ruckus is more like it.”
“Now, Tony, that’s not fair. It’s all in the spirit of things.”
“But why are they secret?” Kate asks.
“It’s a misnomer, really. They’re just little off-the-books clubs. Like sororities, in some ways, but girls can’t pledge. They govern their own membership. Choose their own members. It’s a long-held tradition here, and at many of our peer schools. There have been secret societies at Goode for over a century. Which is why they still exist, though we’re not as accepting of them as we once were. We see them now as more of a mentorship opportunity for our older girls.”
Kate scoffs. “Mentorship? It sounds like a great way for some popular kids to exclude some of their classmates.”
“You can’t force children to be all-inclusive, Detective. The world doesn’t work that way, and teenage girls don’t, either.”
“It should. The world would be a better place. Can any of them get up here?”
“No. There are only two sets of keys. Mine and Security’s. Both kept in safes.”
Tony chews his lip. “Where’s that boy been lately?”
Fury rises up in her. “Don’t you dare, Tony.”
“What boy?” Kate asks. She’s climbed up and is leaning out over the edge of the cupola now, her flashlight making long yellow swaths of light down the front of the building. She’s so far out it’s making Ford nervous. One tiny bump and over the edge she’d go. It’s easy to see how Camille went screaming to her death.
Tony seems to read Ford’s mind. He reaches out and grabs his niece’s jacket. “Careful there, Kate. This cupola is old. Don’t put too much pressure on the balustrade.”
Kate shuts off the flashlight and jumps back down. “She would have to climb up to get over this edge. Or be forcibly lifted. We need to talk to the girls, see if they heard anything. Talking, or a scuffle. There are rooms below this, correct? Maybe one of the girls will be able to shed some light on a time line, at least. What boy are you talking about?”
“Rumi Reynolds. Son of Rick Reynolds.”
“The one who murdered the coed?”
“The very one. Ford here hired young Rumi to be a jack-of-all-trades.”
“Come on, Tony. He isn’t involved in this. Don’t get lazy and start pointing fingers. It’s not fair to him. He is not responsible for his father’s actions.”
“Ford Westhaven, the patron saint of lost causes. Something like that warps a child, Ford. What he saw...”
“What did he see?” Kate asks.
“According to him, he saw everything.”
“The murder?”
