Perfect. “Crutcher? Wait, you aren’t...? Sorry. I mean, I have a teacher named Crutcher. Over at Belmont.”
The change in her face is instantaneous. Smile gone, eyes dull. Like he had just brought up someone who was dead. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Her hand flies to her mouth, as if she didn’t mean to say that. “Oh, that sounded terrible, didn’t it?”
“Um... sort of.”
“I apologize. Your teacher is my ex-husband.”
Zach is so surprised, he isn’t sure what to say. “Oh.”
“Well, almost-ex-husband. Close enough,” she says.
Zach nods. “Okay.”
She laughs a little. “Sorry. I’m boring you with my personal life. How are you? Are you sick, or...?”
“Oh no. It’s not me. I was just here visiting someone.” Even as he talks, his mind spins. Talking to Allison isn’t going to help him at all.
“It was nice to see you again,” Allison says to him. “Hope your friend will be okay.”
“Thanks. So do I.”
He walks away, looping around and exiting through a different door. Zach no longer thinks about getting on Crutcher’s good side.
He thinks about the wedding ring Crutcher still wears.
And he thinks about yesterday, when he overheard Crutcher talking to another teacher about Sonia’s memorial. He said his wife couldn’t make it because she had to work.
Zach also thinks about another one of his father’s favorite sayings.
Knowledge isn’t just powerful; it’s valuable. Know when to use it and when to shut up.
40
WHEN FRANK GETSto school the next morning, something is different. More reporters are out front. A lot more. Which doesn’t make any sense, because the trial still hasn’t started. They haven’t even picked out the jury yet. But as soon as he starts driving through the gate, everything becomes clear.
The police. They’re everywhere. Cars all over the parking lot.
Frank stops right in front of the security guard.
“Little crazy here this morning, eh?” the guard says.
“Yeah. Just a little.” All these police. They must be here for him.
No one to blame but himself, and he deserves it. He deserves everything, including having to watch Sonia die. A punishment for killing Ingrid. It’s all connected. Always is. Always has been.
God makes sure of that.
“Everything okay, Mr.Maxwell?” the guard says.
“No,” Frank says, shaking his head. Whatever is coming next, he’s not ready for it. “I just realized I forgot something at home.”
He backs up into the street and drives away.
IF TEDDY HADto describe the detective in three words, it would be old, tired, and worn-out. Like a used couch.
Bates is his name, though his first name is not Norman. Unfortunate, because that would’ve made everything perfect.
They are sitting in the Windsor Room. Normally, it’s used for the headmaster’s meetings, but today it’s used for questioning. Bates has a notebook and a sad little pencil, chewed at the end. One by one, he wants to speak with every staff and faculty member of Belmont.