Page 128 of For Your Own Good
The police. Zach’s reputation with them is probably worse than hers even if they read the emails she sent to Teddy.
She goes back and forth on it, finally deciding she needs to test him. Like in her Belmont science classes, where they’d taught her to come up with a hypothesis and then test to see if it was true. The scientific method could be applied to Zach.
Hypothesis statement: If Zach is telling the truth, he would be a good partner.
But she can’t use Bunsen burners and test tubes to figure out the answer. Back to the internet she goes, refreshing her memory on the rest of the method.
Statements must be tested, and the tests must be replicable.
Maybe that’s the wrong method to use. She needs to be more like a lawyer, asking questions she already knows the answers to.
Maybe she needs to ask him about what she knows.
That would mean revealing some of the information she has, but at this point she has nothing to lose. Still no answer from Teddy other than a visit to her apartment. And no answer to the third email she sent, either.
She sits down in front of her computer and types out an email to Zach, explaining what she knows about Crutcher. Including the video of him sneaking into the school—although she doesn’t mention how she got it. He doesn’t need to know that.
Fallon gets about halfway through before fatigue sets in. It’s late, and she can’t think clearly enough to finish.
Tomorrow, she will. She’ll finish it and send it to Zach. Maybe then she’ll know if he’s telling the truth.
79
TEDDY MISSES INGRIDRoss.
He’s back in the tenth-floor conference room. Winnie hands him the final invitation list for the memorial. It’s coming up fast, and the addition of Frank Maxwell means they need to include clergy members from all religions.
Ingrid would’ve known whom to invite. She knew everyone.
So does Ms.Marsha, but she’s not here this morning.
“I’ve called her twice,” Winnie says. “She hasn’t called back yet.”
Teddy glances up at the clock. It’s twenty minutes past nine, which means Ms.Marsha is twenty minutes late. That doesn’t happen. The woman is more punctual than a Swiss watch.
And it probably means she’s not coming at all.
“We’re running out of time to decide,” he says to Winnie. “Make up a list of possible religious leaders, and let’s go through it.”
She nods and starts typing on her laptop.
Teddy picks up the invite list and reviews it again. Allison Crutcher’s name is not there. As his wife, it’s assumed she is already invited and that she will show up. He hopes she at least has the courtesy to do so, given that she hasn’t bothered to congratulate him yet. Not even an email that says:
Sorry about the tragedy at Belmont, but you’ll do a great job as headmaster.
Nothing. Not a word.
She has been infuriatingly quiet. Being loved is one thing, being hated is another, but there’s nothing worse than being ignored. Which is why he still hasn’t signed those divorce papers or returned her lawyer’s calls.
Winnie gets up and leaves the conference room. She’s a brisk, efficient woman, though not particularly intelligent. Maybe that’s what he needs in an assistant. Someone who does what he says without putting too much thought into it.
But he can’t start looking for a new assistant quite yet.
ZACH AND COURTNEYare studying at Starbucks when she suddenly throws her pencil down.
“I don’t like my tutor.”
“I know,” he says.
