Foxe Hunt (15 page)

She scooted closer to the table and nodded toward Skyler. “Mr.

Foxe.”

“Please, Ms. Hornbeck. Call me Skyler.”

“Then you’ll have to call me Tricia.” She smiled. “Skyler.

That’s such a cheerful name.”

“It’s very retro,” said Kate. Her ponytail bobbed as she giggled.

He unwrapped his sandwich, laying the cellophane open.

“What can I say? My mother was a rebel. I’ve always liked it. I guess it
is
a cheerful sort of name. I’m generally a cheerful sort of guy.”

“That’s what they say,” said Pauline distractedly, riffling through some papers in a manila folder.

Kate slurped a scoop of yogurt from a plastic spoon and ticked her head. “Can’t you put that down for a second, Pauline?”

“I can’t. These records are a mess. Something is seriously wrong with them. Do you want to know what I think?” She looked around conspiratorially and then leaned in close to the table. Everyone followed her example. “It’s odd. These records are sort of haphazard. But only some of them. If I didn’t know better, I would say that someone’s been messing around, switching the grades,” she said quietly.

“What?” shrieked Tricia.

“Shhh!” She made quieting motions and glanced quickly to Foxe hunt
115

the table where Keith was knocking back a Coke like it was a beer and laughing at something Ed Fallows said. “There’s been a rumor that Wes Sherman Jr. was hacking into the school computer and changing grades.”

“You’re kidding me,” said Skyler. “Why would he do that?”

“Hired by someone. Who, I wonder?” And she glanced back at the group of assistant football coaches.

“No,” said Kate. “I refuse to believe that. Grade switching so the students can keep playing? I can’t see it. They’re a good team.”

“But do they get good grades?”

Skyler stared at the triangle of sandwich in his hands. “Have you told Mr. Sherman about this?”

“Lord, no! That man has had enough grief in his life. Why would I add to that by telling him that his dead son might have been up to something illegal and at his own school, no less?”

Skyler felt a heavy feeling in his gut and put the sandwich down uneaten. Maybe it wasn’t Wes Sherman Jr. Maybe it was Keith Fletcher.

§ § §

Even though he had the intention of confronting Keith, Skyler chickened out at every opportunity. He even started avoiding Keith, even making sure the man was busy on the field with the players before he snuck into the parking lot to get into his car. But instead of heading for home, he diverted and drove over to The Bean.

He thought Philip’s barista Cashmere Funk would be behind the counter. The tall Jamaican was a local character and philosopher, and he also had a long time crush on Philip, but he wasn’t there. Instead, the man himself was busy mixing his brews. And Jamie, too. He stood at the counter sipping a frozen coffee through a mound of whipped cream.

“Hi, guys.”

“Skyler!” Jamie put down his drink and hugged him, even
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lifted him off the floor.

“Hey, put me down!”

“Skyler, I am so
so
sorry about last night. You know how I get when I get excited. My mouth runs away from me.”

“If only it would,” said Philip, wiping his hands down his green apron. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. Foxe?”

He shrugged. “I just thought I’d drop by here for a change.

I’ve missed several mornings. I didn’t expect to run into you guys, though. I guess I lucked out.” He smiled.

“Then what will it be?”

He looked up at the menu that he’d practically memorized.

“What the hell. I need a treat. Give me a frozen caramel mochaccino.”

“Coming up.”

Jamie grabbed his arm and steered him to the cushy chairs.

“I’m really sorry, Skyler.”

“It’s okay, Jamie. It turns out…well, Keith was waiting for me when I got home.”

“He was? Ooo. Tell me more.”

Philip came from around the counter and joined them at the chairs. He handed Skyler the frosty plastic cup. “I knew you wanted to keep your girlish figure so I left off the whipped cream.”

They both looked at Jamie, who was nearly fellating the cream off his straw. “What?”

“Never mind,” said Philip. “You were saying about Keith?

Was he pissed off?”

“No, as a matter of fact, he was pretty contrite. He…uh. He spent the night.”

“Omigod!” said Jamie. He had a whipped cream mustache.

“You two. Going at it like bunnies. Mmm mmm.”

“Yeah, well. We’re really good at that. Maybe not so good with Foxe hunt
117

other things.”

Philip straightened the napkin coaster on the table between them. “What do you mean?”

“Dude.” He shook his head. He had to tell someone. “I got home last night and realized I’d forgotten my satchel so I went back to school to get it. And I saw Keith there. He was typing something on my principal’s computer.”

“So?”

“So? He’s not supposed to be doing that! It was a locked office. A password protected computer. You get it?”

“Oh. Did you ask him what he was doing there?”

“No. I chickened out. He’s already called me twice and I let it go to voice mail.”

Jamie was alert now. He was the computer expert, after all.

Web designer extraordinaire. “It’s probably something innocent.

I mean, what could he be doing?”

Skyler leaned in close and the others followed. “I heard today that someone’s been hacking into the school computer and changing grades.”

“I used to do that all the time when I was at high school,” said Jamie. “Well, not the school computer. Don’t actually know if they had one. But I got good at changing the grade on the report cards I brought home.”

“No, this is serious. If the football team is fixing grades so the players can play, then that’s all kinds of illegal. It’s all about grade point averages and scholarships. We’re talking fraud. It’s a
very
big deal. Plus, get this. There’s also a rumor that Wes Sherman Jr. had something to do with it.”

“The dead kid you found?”

“Yeah.”

“But that didn’t have anything to do with his murder.”

“No, but I just remembered something. A while back I was in the boy’s gym and I overheard the coach talking to someone
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on the phone. He talked about the job that
Sherman
did for them but that problem was
solved
. Like dead? And then he said that they just had to
skirt Meyers
and everything would be okay. Don’t you get it? Meyers! That’s Julia Meyers. She’s the teacher that got pushed down the stairs. She’s still in a coma. And she was worried about something going on at the school, something to do with the jocks.”

Philip and Jamie looked at each other. “I’m sure Sidney is investigating it,” said Philip.

“But she doesn’t know about this. And there were holes in Keith’s records. She checked. Wes is gone now but that doesn’t mean that Keith hasn’t replaced him. And I know that the coach had something to do with Julia’s accident.”

“You don’t know that Keith is responsible. And what holes?

What do you mean?”

“I had her check on Keith a while ago. She said it was not exactly missing information but just holes. Like what’s
not
said is important.”

Philip shook his head. “God, the two of you. Conspiracy theories. Maybe he was on the grassy knoll or faked the moon landings, too. Jeez. This sounds like nothing more than suspicions and a little unusual behavior.”

“Unusual behavior? He was hacking into the school computer!”

“You don’t know that. You haven’t asked him.”

“Oh, and how will that conversation go? ‘Hi Keith, I wondered if you wanted to come over. And by the way, are you hacking into the school computer and illegally changing grades?’ That will be a fun evening.”

“Or you can just harbor your suspicions and continue to act crazy around him. And you can break it off.”

“Break it off?”

“Yes, it’s what people do when they dodge each other’s phone calls and refuse to date each other anymore.”

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“Well…I…I don’t want to do…that.” He sipped the drink through his straw without really tasting.

Philip hunched forward while Jamie sat back in the cushions, giving Skyler a concerned look. “Skyler, do you have…feelings for this guy?”

He looked down into his drink. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You do know.”

There was Mother Hen Philip again. But Skyler couldn’t deny it. He stirred his drink slowly. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I guess I do have a sort of…
crush
on him.” He sighed. “So what am I going to do? I never felt like this before. I don’t want him to be guilty of anything.”

“You
have
to talk to him. It’s the only way.”

“You’re right.” He looked up at Jamie who had been unusually quiet. “Is that what you think I should do?”

“You know Philip’s right. He’s the smart one.”

“Hey, what about me?”

“You’re the passionate one.”

“I am? Then what does that make you?”

Jamie struck a pose. “I’m the
fabulous
one!”

§ § §

Skyler had to admit that it was for the best. He had to talk to Keith and the sooner that was done the better. Tomorrow. At school. With people nearby but not too close.

As he made his way home from The Bean, his mind drifted back to Jeff and that terrible night. He so wanted to help, to make a difference, and he decided to drive by and see if Jeff needed anything.

He turned the corner and glanced at the house. But all was dark. He slowed and decided to park. Getting out, he stood on the sidewalk and measured the house. A square box with boxy hedges. It was funny. The house seemed to fit their personalities.

Both Jeff and Evan were square, conservative types. They
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probably even voted Republican, for all he knew. While Skyler lived in a house with curves, frilly design elements, and old world charm. He wondered what that said about him.

He stood on the walkway just staring at the darkened house and remembered that night he was here picking up Jeff. There were all kinds of cops wandering around, doing various things.

But he also remembered something about the bushes. Something had been taped off. He wondered what it was they found.

Curious, he left the concrete path and walked across the grass, heading for the garden border. He took out his phone and switched it on, using it as a light. The bushes were manicured and the ground beneath it raked free of leaves and weeds. He didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t found something that night. He wished he knew what that had been, but Sidney would never tell him. Could it be something someone dropped?

A spent shell? Or something as simple as a footprint?

He stepped over the short bushes and crept around to the back as far as he could go before encountering a fence. He looked up the stuccoed wall to a metal-framed window that was shut up tight.

A window opened behind him and a flashlight beam hit him square in the face when he turned around. Oh crap!

“What are you doing there!” cried a man in the window.

Skyler raised his empty hands. Well, one hand had his phone in it. “Hi! Hi there! I’m a friend of Jeff and Evan’s.”

“You just wait right there. I’m this close to calling the cops.”

Skyler heard a scramble and the man left the window. He was coming around. Should Skyler bolt?

Instead, he waited like an idiot for the ax to fall.

But wait. He wasn’t guilty of anything. It was perfectly innocent what he was doing. Sort of.

The neighbor came barreling out of his house baring a flashlight, which he continued to shine in Skyler’s face. “Who are you?”

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“My name is Skyler Foxe. I’m a friend of Jeff ’s.”

“What are you doing skulking around his house in the middle of the night?”

“It’s hardly the middle of the night—”

“Just answer the question.” He was a middle-aged man with a pot belly and receding hair. He was wearing sweat pants that were more a fashion statement than used for exercise, and a zip-up jacket.

“Well, I’m friends with the police detective in charge of the case and I was just doing a little looking around.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the detective’s name?”

“Sidney Feldman. She’s mid twenties, pretty, long hair in ringlets…”

He lowered the flashlight. “Yeah, that was her. She gave me her card and told me to call if I thought of anything. What did you say your name was?”

“Skyler Foxe.”

“Oh. I think I remember Jeff telling me about you. I’m sorry about the flashlight thing, but you can’t be too careful. Especially about what happened. We’re all kind of freaked out in the neighborhood.”

“I can imagine.”

“So. You’re helping out the detective. Are you a policeman?”

“No. A high school English teacher.”

The man frowned. Maybe he was having second thoughts about calling the cops. Skyler thought he’d better get out of there. But he wanted to ask something first.

“Did you ever see anything suspicious out here the night Evan was killed?”

“I thought they said it was a suicide?”

“Well, it might not be. Did you?”

“No. Not really. Jeff would come out here sometimes. At
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night, kind of late. He’d just stand here in the garden—kind of like you are—and stare into the window. I know things were tough for those boys, what with Evan’s legs and all.”

“Where would he stand, exactly? Here?” Skyler stepped back into the garden border.

“Yeah. About there. Just staring inside.”

That was kind of odd. It made him feel a bit sick inside. He didn’t want to be suspicious of Jeff. No intention of it. But that was certainly unusual behavior.

“Did you by any chance mention that to the detective?”

“Yeah. Why not? She asked, I told.”

“No reason. Anything else?”

He shrugged.

“Well, thanks. I guess I’ll be going now.”