Accelerated (34 page)

Jess smoothed back her hair just as the front door opened.

“Aunt Bev!” Jess said, trying not to sound like she’d been moments from getting laid.

“Hi Jessie.” Sean couldn’t see her from his hiding place, but Shineman sounded tired.

“I didn’t think you’d be home ’til tomorrow.”

“I came back early,” Shineman said. “I hate those things. Do you want some food? I can order something.”

Sean pulled his legs in tight, the way he did when he played hide and seek with Toby.

“Have you … have you been drinking?” he heard Jess ask her godmother.

“Of course not.”

“I can smell it.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Jessie. I have not been drinking.”

He could hear it clearly now: Bev was slurring.

“Okay.” Jess’s tone said she didn’t believe a word of it. “Okay.”

He knew he’d smelled it on Shineman’s breath. This was the woman responsible for the psychological well-being of hundreds of children—for
his
child. He wanted to strangle her.

“Can I talk to you?” Jess was saying.

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” Shineman yawned. “I was thinking of taking a bath and getting into bed.”

“It’s pretty important.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Someone signed my name on Toby Benning’s Conners scale,” Jess said.

“I don’t know where you get this stuff,” Shineman said. “I’m going to run a bath.”

He heard Bev take a few steps toward her bedroom.

“It was your handwriting.” Jess hadn’t mentioned this damning piece of news to him and he wondered if she was bluffing.

The footsteps stopped and Shineman groaned. “Okay. Sit.” He heard them walk to the living room. Shineman sighed and collapsed on the couch. “You know you’re making something out of nothing, right?”

“Did you sign it or not?”

“Sweetie,” she started. “Why do you think you were hired?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we both know you don’t technically have the experience to be a head teacher at Bradley. I knew you could do it, Jessie. I vouched for you. But I knew there would be hurdles. I said so your first day. I also said I’d help you out.”

He wondered if Jess would take the bait.

“I didn’t give you permission to forge my name.” She was saying the right words but her voice was suddenly smaller.

“Had you ever filled out a Conners scale?” Shineman pressed.

He strained to hear.

“Answer me, Jessica.”

“No.” Jess answered.

“I’ve done several hundred,” Shineman said. “That was something I could help you with. I’ve been observing Toby for years. My filling it out was the responsible thing to do. So don’t go painting this as some malicious deed.”

His legs were cramping up. He stretched them out carefully, but there wasn’t enough room. He bumped the chair and it skidded three inches on the wood floor and thudded against the leg of the table. He froze.

“Why did you want Toby Benning on medication?” Jess raised her voice, possibly to cover up the racket he was making. “He didn’t need it.”

“Whoa,” Shineman said dramatically. “Who says Toby Benning didn’t need medication? He was diagnosed with Attention Deficit.”

“Because of you.”

Shineman chuckled condescendingly. “That’s quite a theory.”

Sean exhaled slowly, his heart hammering away against his ribs.

“And it doesn’t paint me in a very flattering light,” Shineman complained. “I am—and always have been—an advocate for children. I think medication helps most of the children who take it. And I think it helped Toby.” She paused. “Occasionally one of them has a bad reaction and we take them off it. It’s that simple.”

He squeezed the leg of the desk hard, imagining Shineman’s neck instead. There was nothing simple about having almost killed Toby.

“Look,” Shineman was saying. “About a third of Bradley students excel there. Another third get by. With help. But the others … the school moves quickly.”

“But—” Jess tried.

“The curriculum is
accelerated
. We have to help these kids feel good about themselves, allow them to focus on the work so they can succeed.” She paused. “Don’t you think they deserve that chance?”

“A chance to learn that drugs will solve all their problems?” Her anger was escalating and so was her register. “A chance to die from taking a drug they don’t need?”

“Here’s the thing about Bradley.” Shineman was getting calmer as Jess became more agitated. “Some of these kids would be fine going without the meds at other schools. They’d be
fine
. But at Bradley … they need help.”

His tongue tasted metallic and he had too much saliva in his mouth. He tried to breathe, but it came out as a rumble.

“We have the best SAT scores, the best college acceptance rates,” she went on. “Our chess team has won the national championship ten years in a row. Our debate team rips all the others apart. We have the newest and best technology of any school anywhere and kids who know how to use it. A Broadway show could go up in our theater it’s so well—”

“I don’t give a shit about the theater or any of that other crap.”

“Barack Obama spoke at the Bradley commencement last year, for God’s sake,” Shineman spat out. “We are the best of the best. I’m doing what I can to keep the standards of the school high.”

“Stop it,” shouted Jess. “Stop justifying it.”

“Boys are put on ADD medication every day all over the country,” she said. “This is no different. So please, stop making it sound so sordid. I’m just helping to insure that no child falls through the cracks. The health of the school depends on an ultra-high level of achievement. Our kids can do it. It’s inspiring.”

“So why the hell are you drugging them?”

He strained to hear, but all he could hear was Shineman breathing angrily.

“Kids are fidgety,” she said sharply. “They can’t sit still long enough to learn everything they need to learn every day. I’m just helping to make sure that down the road a huge, and I mean huge, percentage of our students will end up at Ivy League schools and go on to lead exciting, rewarding lives.”

The pause drew out for a full fifteen seconds, which felt like hours from his cramped corner.

“Who else knows about this?”

Shineman pushed air heavily out her nostrils. “You’re not paying attention to what I’m—”

“I’m paying closer attention than anyone else at Bradley. Who is making you do this?”

“No one’s making me
do
anything,” she said. “I’m just supposed to guide parents toward the right decision. That’s all.”

He was so furious, he hardly noticed the pins and needles pricking his dead legs.

“But … why?”

She let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “It’s not like I have a choice.”

“That’s bullshit. Of course you have a choice.”

“No. I don’t. Jessie, I’ve had a hard time … your mom … she was my best friend.”

“My mom?”

Another sigh from Shineman. “When she died I slipped a little.” A foghorn sounded as she blew her nose. “I just needed something to get me through.” She sniffed miserably. “I loved her too.”

Sean rolled his eyes.

“Don’t use Mom as an excuse for falling off the wagon. She’d despise that.”

“Bruce found out, and …”

“Found out? You were drinking at school?”

“I don’t need a lecture. I’m just giving you the facts. I need to do everything I can to keep my job.”

“Is that the most important thing? What if Toby had died?”

“I don’t see Toby’s parents complaining,” she snipped. “I wasn’t the one who gave him the medication. They did.”

It took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to storm out of the guest bedroom and rip Shineman’s head off.

“And what about Calvin?” Jess was yelling. “You killed Calvin.”

“Shut your mouth,” Shineman hissed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t kill children.” He heard a quiver in her voice. “I help them.”

He wondered if she’d convinced herself this was true or if she was simply so deep into the lie she couldn’t get out. She’d just confirmed that Bruce Daniels was involved. Not only wasn’t Bruce looking into the forgery, he’d set it up. His stomach twisted.

“You have to stop,” he heard Jess say.

“Jessie, I won’t sign your name anymore, okay? I promise. Just don’t mention this again. Ever.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Trust me,” her voice was desperate. “I’m not kidding.”

“But you just told me … you admitted—”

“You know what?” Shineman’s pleading tone had changed. “I don’t think this is going to work out after all.”

“What?”

“I’m giving you two week’s notice,” she said. “Effective immediately.”

“You’re firing me?”

“I made a mistake. You’re not a good fit with the school.”

“But, what—you can’t just—”

“I can. And I am. I’ll tell Bruce you had a family emergency. It’ll get you out of your contract—a clean break—so you can get another teaching job.”

“But—”

“This is your out—an out most of them don’t get.” Her use of “most of them” filled the room with the ghosts of past teachers. Good teachers like Debbie Martin. “You should take it. Let me protect you.”

Jess was silent. “Okay,” she said, finally. “Two weeks. That will give me time to tie up loose ends, say goodbye to the children.”

“This is no joke.” Shineman’s tone sent a chill through him. “Go and don’t look back. Leave town. You can still get out of this without becoming a casualty if you do what I’m telling you.”

Shineman went to bed and Jess found Sean in the guest bedroom. “Could you hear?” Her eyes were huge and her whisper was charged.

“Every word.”

“Go home, call your sister. Find a lawyer.”

“But you just told her you wouldn’t talk about any of that.”

“I can’t,” she said. “But
you
can.”

A
S SOON AS HE WAS OUT OF THE BUILDING, THE AIR BIT INTO HIS
skin. He replayed Bruce Daniels’s lies and dialed Nicole.

“Hello?” Her voice was groggy. He checked his watch.

“Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I need a lawyer,” he said, and told her why.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said. “You need Nina Goldsmith. She does crimes against children, and she’s a bulldog.”

“Nicole …” The word
bulldog
ricocheted around inside his head. “I don’t really feel like being reamed by Bradley.”

“So what, you want to sit around stroking blue blankie?”

She hadn’t teased him about the blankie in decades. He had a flash of how mad it used to make him. Now, instead, he smiled. “Nah, that’s why I called you.”

“Nina’s good. I’ll ask her to keep your name out of it if she can.”

O
N THE PHONE
, N
INA
G
OLDSMITH AGREED TO MEET AT A DELI
near the courthouse. He ordered a coffee to go since there weren’t any tables. He waited. When a petite blonde about his age blew in, he didn’t think much of it until she marched up to him. “Sean Benning.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and Nina Goldsmith locked it in a fierce grip.

She led him to a narrow shelf that must have been the coffee bar and they leaned against it. “I’ve been looking into the allegations you’re making. I can’t lie to you. This is going to be hard. The Bradley School is … powerful. They’ve got some extremely well-placed alumni, including some people in my office. That’s not to say we can’t move on this. But we need to be careful. Meticulous. Did you do your homework?”

He handed her the pages he’d written, explaining everything he knew, everything he suspected, and the little proof he had. He also gave her the list of everyone he knew who was involved, and everyone he thought could help with the case, divided into those who would talk (Garvey), those who might talk (Debbie Martin), and those he was pretty sure wouldn’t talk—the Drakes, Walt, Cheryl, Noah, Bev Shineman and just about everyone else.

She read through the list shaking her head. “Didn’t you say something about photos?”

“Oh, right.” He’d almost forgotten. He handed her the printouts of the pictures he’d taken with his cell phone, which were far darker and blurrier than he’d remembered.

She squinted hard at them. “What is this?”

“Those are pictures of the nurse’s closet at Bradley.” He pointed to a close-up of one of the bottles. “They’re all ADD medication. It shows how many of the kids are taking it.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Without proof of the forged signature, this doesn’t show that the school is doing anything illegal.”

“I think that’s doable,” he said. “As long as you can protect the teacher.”

“I told you I’ll do everything I can.”

“I can get you Dr. Hutch Garvey. He evaluated hundreds of Manhattan kids for years and
he
believes the schools are forcing parents to medicate their kids.”

“Yeah, Hutch … Look, Dr. Garvey has been trying to open a case for years. He has no hard evidence because none of the parents will come forward to back up his claims.” She squinted at him. Her eyes were so dark you couldn’t tell where the pupils ended and the irises began. “I believe you, if that means anything. People wouldn’t be this scared to come forward if it weren’t true. But if you want me to have a chance in hell of seeing any real results, you’re going to have to get me more than Hutch Garvey. Get the teacher. Find another parent who’ll talk. Find a high-profile parent who’ll talk. Any of those things will get us a step closer to where we want to be, which is in front of a judge who will give us permission to search the school.”

“How am I supposed to make people talk to you?”

She shrugged sarcastically. “You’re an attractive man. I’m sure some of the mothers have noticed.”

“What?”

“I’m not going in there without the backup I need. Use what God gave you. I don’t have a professional death wish.” She tossed her coffee cup in the trash as she turned to leave. “Let me know when you get something I can use.”

H
E STOOD IN FRONT OF THE
B
ROOKLYN
B
RIDGE STATION AND
dialed Melanie Drake.