Page 104 of For Your Own Good
“Yes,” Zach says. He looks down at the table, shaking his head a little. An act. “I hoped Courtney would be released. That after Mrs.Benjamin died, the police would realize Courtney wasn’t the killer. I told her that.”
Agent Pruitt doesn’t say anything. Zach continues looking down, waiting her out, determined not to meet her eye. Not yet.
“Zach,” she finally says. “You went to great lengths to see Courtney, and put your own self at risk just to talk to her.”
She stops. Zach remains quiet, waiting for the question. He knew this one was coming, and he’s prepared for it.
“Why would you do that?” she says.
Now he looks up. “Because I love her,” he says. “And I was going crazy without her.”
Agent Roland has been silent throughout the interview. He nods. Just a tiny bit, but it’s enough.
He gets it. More importantly, he believes it.
Zach slumps a little, trying to look sad. Trying to look like a lovesick teenager who couldn’t stand to be away from Courtney Ross. His unrequited love.
“I know it sounds stupid, but it’s true,” Zach says. “She doesn’t even know that... Well, anyway. That’s why. I really do love her.”
Agent Pruitt looks to her partner, who shrugs a little and turns to Zach.
“Thank you for coming in. I think that’s all we have for right now.”
Zach forces himself not to smile until he gets out of the building. His lawyer is so pissed, he won’t speak. That’s just fine with Zach. He’s already done all the talking necessary.
A few months ago, he never would’ve lied to the FBI. Never would’ve talked to them at all, in fact. He would’ve done exactly as his parents, and his lawyer, told him to do. Or at least he would’ve pretended to do as they said, because that’s the kind of kid he is.
Or was. Maybe his parents don’t always know what’s best.
64
LISSA. THE BOBBLEHEADreporter’s name is Lissa.
Teddy is not surprised.
They are sitting in the studio of a local TV station where Lissa works, and someone connects a microphone to Teddy’s shirt.
“Just speak normally,” Lissa says. “You don’t have to shout or anything.”
“I understand,” Teddy says.
“And remember, this is live. If you stumble over a word, just keep talking. Don’t stop. But if you do, I’ll jump in.”
“That’s fine.”
Under any other circumstances, he would never be on TV, would never put himself in the spotlight like this. But these aren’t normal times. No one is speaking for Belmont.
With a dead headmaster and a board that would rather stay in the background, only a written statement has been released:
Due to the tragic events at Belmont Academy on Monday, the school is closed pending an investigation by the police and the FBI. Once they are finished, the school will be cleaned and disinfected. We will then begin the process of moving forward from this difficult time.
A separate, private notice went out to all students, offering assistance if they would like to temporarily transfer to another school. While the board gave no estimation of when Belmont would reopen, they said they hoped it would be soon.
That was it.
Teddy has a lot more to say. About the hospital, and how the wonderful, talented staff took care of him. About the students, who are so brave and strong to endure such madness. About the school itself, and its history of resilience.
Someone has to do it.
