Page 117 of For Your Own Good
She never should’ve sent those emails to Teddy, calling him an asshole and a piece of shit. Repeatedly. It makes her look like she’s out to get him.
Which she is.
She’s not getting anything useful from the mailbox video. She’s not getting anything useful from Teddy himself, who appears to be the most boring person on the planet. And she’s not getting anything from Zach. She can’t even get a picture of Zach and Teddy together, much less talking.
All of which brings her right back to where she is now. In her shoebox apartment.
Maybe today she’ll get lucky. Maybe she’ll find something. She grabs her bag and walks out. If nothing else, she’ll find Zach. He’s easy to locate. If he’s not at home, he’s at the Grove. Or at Courtney’s house.
That’s where she finds him today, leaving his friend Courtney’s house. Or is she a girlfriend? Maybe they just hook up. Hard to know, but they certainly spend a lot of time together.
Another interesting connection. They’re everywhere, these little tidbits of information, yet no smoking gun, no bloody knife. No poison in hand.
So Fallon keeps going, keeps following Zach in his fancy car. He drives out of Courtney’s neighborhood and into downtown. Good. It’s easier for Fallon to hide among other cars on the road. She stays three or four cars behind him. More if she can manage it.
He takes a left, away from all the little shops and restaurants, and heads toward an industrial park filled with office buildings. They’re ugly and square, tucked away and far from the expensive houses like the one Courtney lives in.
Fallon hangs back, circling through a parking lot while keeping an eye on Zach. He pulls into a spot right outside a flat one-story building with very few windows. He’s sitting in his car. Maybe waiting for someone, maybe on his phone.
The sign out front is too far away to read, so she drives around the back of the building. A middle-aged woman wearing all black is getting out of her car, and Fallon pulls up alongside her.
“Excuse me. I think I’m lost,” she says. “Can you tell me what building this is?”
The woman looks irritated, as if Fallon had just interrupted something important. “It’s the sperm bank.”
The sperm bank. Of course.
Zach has spotted her again, and he’s playing with her. Not the first time, either.
Yes, he’s a smart kid. She gets that. But she can outthink a high school kid.
She just can’t follow him without being seen.
With a sigh, she drives out of the industrial park and heads toward a Starbucks. Maybe she needs to go back to following Teddy. But he knows her car from seeing it at school. He might alter his route if he spots her, though he would never be as obvious as Zach. Not because he’s smarter, but because he’s not seventeen.
Teddy isn’t easy to ruin.
Unlike the headmaster who killed himself.
72
TEDDY CONSIDERED BRINGINGa lawyer with him to the FBI meeting. At first. After thinking about it, he decided the worst thing he could do was assume he’s a suspect. Several faculty members said they had been interviewed, so it seemed they were talking to everyone. And, as a victim, it only makes sense that they want to speak to him again.
The FBI is working out of the sheriff’s headquarters. Teddy walks into a chaotic scene, a blend of FBI jackets and brown uniforms. The man at the front desk looks irritated. Teddy already feels the same.
“I’m Teddy Crutcher,” he says.
The man blinks at him.
“I’m here for an interview with the FBI.”
With a sigh, the man points. “Over there.”
Halfway to “over there,” Teddy is greeted by Agent Roland, the bald agent from the hospital. The same female agent is with him.
“Thank you for coming in,” Roland says, gesturing to a chair.
“Of course.” Teddy takes a seat. He hasn’t smiled yet, nor does he intend to. “This whole tragedy has been very difficult for everyone. I want to do anything I can to help find whoever did this.”
