School's Out for Murder (Schooled in Murder Book 2) (8 page)

"That's what we thought, too," Gabby agreed, scooting forward on the edge of her cushy chair. "Amelia is a friend of ours, and I know she was devastated that someone would start such a hurtful rumor."

"I don't blame her," Maclaine said angrily. "Stupid gossip is definitely one of the negatives of living in a small town, I guess."

On the one hand, Emily felt as if she should defend Ellington's reputation, but on the other, she had to agree with Maclaine's assessment. Before she could decide what to say first, Gabby plunged ahead. "You're right, Maclaine. I love Ellington; I always have, and I always will. But unfortunately, gossip can do a lot of harm in a town this small. I mean, just look at the mess Amelia is in now."

Maclaine and Larry both looked up at Gabby, their faces wearing matching looks of concern. "What about Amelia?" Larry asked, voluntarily speaking for the first time since Emily had entered the room.

"Oh, you don't know," Gabby exclaimed, managing to pull off a genuinely surprised look. Emily made a mental note to give her props on her acting skills later.

"Know what?" Larry asked gruffly.

"Why, Amelia was arrested earlier tonight for Janice's murder. I assumed you all would be the first to know."

"What?" Larry shouted, surging to his feet. "This has gone too far."

Maclaine looked equally upset. "They arrested her? But don't they need proof for that?" She was staring intently at Emily, who resisted the urge to squirm in her seat. She had underestimated just how uncomfortable this discussion would be.

"I would say so," Emily agreed. "But the only connection that we know of between Amelia and your aunt is the supposed rumor about her involvement with you." Here, Emily motioned toward Larry, who had stalked over to one of the large windows and was staring out into the darkness.

"There's no way it can be Dr. Franklin! I remember her from my summer visits. She was always nice to me, and Aunt Janice never said a word about having any issues with her." Maclaine also stood and began to pace in front of the couch Larry had just vacated.

"Exactly!" Gabby agreed. "We think there must be some mistake." She turned and stared intently at Larry, but he continued to keep his gaze fixed on the darkness outside, ignoring the other three women in the room with him.

Maclaine turned to his still figure. "Uncle Larry, you have to talk to the police! You have to tell them that you were not involved in an affair with Dr. Franklin. I don't understand why they haven't contacted you already." When the man still did not budge, Maclaine tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You will talk to them, right now, won't you?"

Larry finally turned, dejection in every line of his face. "I don't think I should get involved," he said quietly.

"What?" all three women asked together.

"I might just make things worse. I'm sure the police will contact me when they're ready. For now, I think I'm going to go on to bed. Thanks for the tea, Maclaine. And thank you," he nodded at Emily and Gabby, "for coming by. We appreciate it." With a final good-night, he turned and left the room.

Emily and Gabby turned to share a
what the heck
look, expecting Maclaine to force the issue with her uncle. Instead, she only murmured, "Good night," to Larry's retreating back. She turned back to her visitors and gave a shrug. "I'm sure he knows best. The police will figure out their error soon enough, I'm sure." But by the way she was gnawing at her lower lip, Emily knew that she shared the same reservations as her and Gabby.

Emily resisted the urge to snap at the girl before her. Her compassion for Maclaine, while brought to the forefront at the knowledge of her extensive loss, was receding at her lack of a backbone. She had to know that Amelia was in a tight spot, wrongly accused of a crime she didn't commit, and the only one that could help her was her uncle. Yet, she had demurred to his supposedly superior knowledge without a single protest. That lack of a backbone was irritating to Emily in the extreme. If she wanted to find out who had taken her aunt from her, Maclaine would have to quit acting like such a wimp.

Gabby clearly picked up on Emily's agitation as she again expressed her condolences and hustled them both out of there. Emily waited until her car door shut behind her before exploding, "What is wrong with her? And with him? It's like he didn't even care that Amelia might take the fall for this!"

Gabby tapped her fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before starting the minivan. "I know. It was weird how cagey he was about not actually denying the affair. I don't get it." They drove through the quiet, now deserted streets, heading back to Gabby and Greg's house to check in with the guys.

Emily continued to stew, feeling completely helpless to aid their friend, and furious at her impotence. "Why didn't she push him? Janice was her beloved aunt. You would think she'd want to get to the bottom of all this." Tossing her hair, she sniped, "Maybe we should have let Tad come along with us after all. I'm sure he could charm her into showing some backbone."

"Em," Gabby said quietly. "I'm as upset as you are. But hopefully Maclaine is right and the police will figure out the error of their ways quickly. I'm sure Larry will tell the truth once the police contact him."

"You are?" Emily asked sarcastically. "Because I'm sure not. I think Larry seems more concerned with staying under the radar than with helping Amelia. Maybe he really is having an affair."

Gabby didn't respond as she pulled back into her garage. Tad and Greg met them at the kitchen door, demanding to know what they had found out. Gathered around the large kitchen table, they related the whole bizarre scene over bowls of ice cream. Greg and Tad were equally disturbed by Larry's decision not to get involved. "I'm sorry the visit didn't go as you planned," Tad said quietly to Emily, rubbing her arm in a silent act of comfort. "Maybe Trent will have had better luck."

"Have you heard from him?" Gabby asked.

Both men shook their heads. "I called Mom and Dad to check on the girls, who were sleeping soundly, but we haven't heard a word from Trent," Greg told her.

"Speaking of Trent," Emily said, wondering if anyone else was thinking the same thing she was, "did any of you find it odd to see him and Amelia together?"

"I'll admit, I was shocked at first," Tad agreed with her. "But Trent doesn't seem at all like the guy I remember. And he and Amelia were always good friends," he added, echoing Gabby's same sentiment from earlier.

"What was he like in high school?" Greg asked curiously.

"A royal pain in the—" Emily began at the same time as Gabby said, "A gifted athlete."

"With an ego to match," Tad added. "He was pretty insufferable. He played college ball at Missouri State, as he mentioned, but at the time we graduated, he was full of his plans to go straight into the pros from college. Hearing he was coaching was a surprise, to say the least."

"He seemed like a great guy," Greg noted. "Amelia looks to be crazy about him."

"She does," Emily agreed. "And I wish he would call."

The four played a half-hearted game of Pitch, waiting to hear from Trent. Emily found herself almost nodding off for the second time when Tad's cell rang. He had given his number to Trent earlier in the evening, and now he was finally calling to report the latest on Amelia's arrest. Tad put him on speaker so they could all hear the information firsthand. "The police say they have physical evidence that ties Amelia to the murder. Something about a match between some note found at the carnival where the mayor was murdered and some paper Amelia had at the office. Of course, they're also citing her supposed affair with Larry McBain as motivation."

"So they're still holding her?" Gabby asked, her voice vibrating with concern.

"I'm afraid so." Trent sounded exhausted. "We got ahold of a criminal lawyer with a great reputation, but he couldn't get them to release her tonight. They will arraign her tomorrow morning."

"They'll have to let her out on bail then," Tad encouraged. "I'm sure the real suspect will be brought to light soon. Tell Amelia she has nothing to worry about and that we're all behind her one-hundred-percent." They all added their agreement, and after thanking them and promising to call them tomorrow, Trent hung up.

If the looks on the faces of those around her were any indication, Emily knew that they were all as worried about Amelia's fate as she was. But there was nothing more that could be done tonight, or this morning, she realized as she saw the clock read 1:27 a.m.

Emily slept straight through her alarm, and by the time she woke up, she had to race to throw on clean clothes and get to the carnival in time to set up the booth. She cursed her lack of time to stop and get a large soda to help wake her up, but it couldn't be helped. She parked her Nissan Note crookedly and hurried toward the main thoroughfare. She was looking down, trying not to trip over any loose cords, so she didn't see Tad until she had ran straight into him.

"Whoa, there, Pit," Tad exclaimed, stepping back and holding the two large cups in his hands out of spill range.

"Is that what I think it is?" Emily asked, jumping for one of the Styrofoam cups.

"Yep, I thought you might be running late after last night and need a jumpstart on the day." Tad was always up at the crack of dawn, so Emily wasn't surprised that he'd had the luxury of time to stop and get a drink. But she also noticed that his eyes were shadowed, and he was paler than normal. The late night was taking its toll on both of them.

"You're a prince among men," Emily said reverently when Tad handed her the cup.

"Awe shucks, that's what all the girls tell me," Tad joked, and Emily laughed, relieved that the sound was genuine. Apparently her visit with Maclaine the night before had caged the little green monster of jealousy, at least temporarily.

She sucked thirstily from her straw, praying the caffeine would give her enough energy to get through the day. "Have you heard from Trent?" she finally paused to ask.

"Not yet," Tad said, and frowned. "But I'm sure he'll call as soon as the arraignment is over."

"I wish we could be there for Amelia," Emily said, "but with this being the last day of the carnival, I'm afraid it's all hands on deck."

"'Fraid so," Tad agreed. "Maybe once we shut down for the day, we—" Whatever Tad was going to propose was cut off as a student yelled "Mr. Higginbotham" from the direction of the Mathletes booth. "I better go," he said apologetically and then took off at a lope to see what the student needed.

Emily headed on to the English department's booth and had just finished getting everything set up for the day when Superintendent Johnson stopped by. "I wanted to thank you for your help with Detective Welks, Emily," he said without preamble. "I can't imagine what a disaster it would have been if we had to shut the carnival down completely."

"I'm glad I could help," Emily said sincerely. She was wondering if she could somehow manage to ask him about his argument with Larry without letting him know she'd been eavesdropping.

Superintendent Johnson made things easy on her when he said, "The carnival has been a tradition since I was a boy. The town loves this event, and the school depends on it for revenue. Why anyone would think otherwise is beyond me."

Emily tried to tread cautiously when she said, "I know Mayor McBain wanted more attention placed on the Old Home Days weekend instead. She felt the carnival took away from an event that brought in more tourists."

"That fool woman!" Superintendent Johnson burst out, his face flushing crimson. "I can see wanting to ensure Ellington's name was on the map, but if you take away everything that makes Ellington the wonderful community that it is, you not only won't have more tourists, you'll have unhappy locals. Honestly!"

Emily was surprised by the depth of anger she saw in the man's face. Could he be angry enough to kill? The thought made Emily shiver, but the superintendent didn't seem to notice. He almost seemed to be talking to himself when he added, "And Larry is just as big a fool as she was."

"I saw Larry last night when I went by to offer my condolences," Emily offered, hoping to ease into a discussion of his disagreement with his old golfing buddy. "You two are good friends, right?"

Superintendent Johnson's face got even redder, and he had to take a couple of deep breaths before he could answer. "Larry and I have been golfing together for years. Janice and I didn't always see eye-to-eye on things, but that was just business and never had an impact on my friendship with Larry. But all these rumors…I don't know," he ended on a sigh.

"Rumors?" Emily asked. "You mean the rumors about him having an affair?"

"An affair?" Superintendent Johnson looked genuinely shocked. "What affair? I was talking about the rumor that he's going to run for mayor in order to carry on his wife's initiatives."

"Oh," Emily said, not sure what to say next. "I know that rumor about the affair was just that—bogus information spread by someone with nothing better to do."

"Yes, of course," Superintendent Johnson answered her, but Emily could see that his mind was elsewhere. "Rumors are an unavoidable part of small-town life. Hold no water whatsoever." He was staring off in the middle distance, and Emily wished she could read his mind. Something about the idea of Larry involved in an affair had the wheels in his friend's mind spinning. "Thanks again for your help, Emily," he said distractedly, and then he walked away, staring down at the ground and muttering to himself.

Emily watched him until he was swallowed up in the crowd, wondering what she was missing. Why would Superintendent Johnson be so troubled at the idea of Larry having an affair, if troubled was what he actually was? He obviously had a great deal of rage built up against Mayor McBain. If he thought his friend was involved with someone else, did that give him hope that Larry might not continue to carry on his deceased wife's plans if he did run for mayor? Emily couldn't figure out what had the superintendent so preoccupied, and she didn't have time to worry about it right then. The booth was hopping, and the final day of the carnival was in full swing.

Around noon, Emily's stomach was reminding her that she hadn't taken time for breakfast in her running-late morning. Seeing that her students had the booth under control for the moment, she dashed over to one of the food booths to grab a corn dog. Munching happily on her mustard-covered dog, she decided to take a quick tour of the carnival before it shut down for the last time later that day. She'd been so busy worrying about Mayor McBain's murder that she'd never taken the time to check out all of the carnival. She normally got a kick out of viewing all the different booths that the various student organizations put together. She was proud of all of her students and the dedication they showed to the carnival project each year. The thought of the carnival not existing was almost too hard to imagine. For years, it had been a matter of pride to the students who designed the booths, of community involvement for all the businesses that got involved to support the school, and of excitement and joy for the young kids of the town.

As Emily passed by the school's reading club's booth, which was performing puppet shows of various fairy tales, she stopped to see Little Red Riding Hood question her grandmother about her abnormally large ears. A crowd of at least twelve youngsters was enjoying itself immensely, and Emily found herself drawn into the story despite its familiarity. As the puppet show came to an end, she circled around behind the booth to take a shortcut back to her own. She was still smiling about the enthusiastic puppet show audience when she caught a sight out of the corner of her eye that stopped her in her tracks. Next to a row of parked cars, Larry McBain and Susanna Fowler were engaged in an intense conversation.

Emily ducked around the corner of a nearby booth and watched as the couple stood close to one another, gesturing wildly. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but Emily saw Susanna swipe at her eyes as if she was wiping away tears. Larry tried to place a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. From the shadows of her hiding place, the tableau set Emily's mind to whirling. Had these two decided to rekindle an old flame now that Janice was no longer in the picture? Or had they been the ones involved in an affair all along? And she had to admit to another possibility as well. The two could be arguing about Janice's plans to reduce library funding. Susanna would obviously be upset if Larry was informing her that he planned to run for mayor and continue Janice's initiatives. When Susanna turned around and stormed off, Emily continued to watch Larry. He stuck his hand in his pockets and watched Susanna's retreating back. She could clearly see the anguished expression on his face. While the possibility of library funding could have led to this heated conversation, Emily would bet her vintage Rainbow Brite lunchbox that the conversation she had inadvertently witnessed revolved around a more personal issue.

Emily longed to talk over this latest wrinkle in things with Tad, but with the booths closing early on this last night of the carnival, she was needed at her own booth. The crowds were thick until late afternoon when families started to head out, knowing the carnival would be shutting up shop soon. When they hadn't had a single person stop by for more than twenty minutes, Emily and her crew of students started tearing down their booth. Many hands made quick work of the dismantling, so when they finished, the group decided to see if they had time for one last spin on the bumper cars. Emily was waving them off when one of her juniors, a bubbly, sweet girl named Julia asked her to join them. With nothing else pressing to do at the moment, Emily agreed to go with them. The bumper cars had always been one of her favorite attractions at the carnival when she was growing up.

As they stood in line, it was obvious her group was not the only one who had decided that one last spin was on the agenda. While waiting their turn, Emily informed her group that she was calling dibs on the silver and blue car. The same company had provided the bumper cars for the Ellington school carnival for years, and as a young girl, Emily had always raced to secure her favorite-colored car. It thrilled her heart to know that some things never changed. Although her students made fun of her dyed-in-the-wool ways, she still scrambled into the shiny car she had her heart set on.

As the cars spun and ricocheted off the walls and each other, Emily found herself laughing and breathless, lost in the joy of a childhood pleasure. It didn't take long before her group of students was ganging up on her. By the time the ride ended, she was left stranded in the far corner of the floor, all the other cars surrounding her. She fumbled with her seat belt and waved off her students' insincere apologies with a laugh, wishing them all a good summer. By the time she was able to clamber out of the car, she was the last one left. Stepping from her car, she heard the crinkle of paper near her feet. She knelt down so she could reach into the well under the steering wheel. A folded piece of white paper was propped against the front wall of the car. She pulled the piece of paper free, examining it as she stood. Immediately upon straightening, she dropped the piece of paper to the floor, shocked to see her own name typed neatly on the outside.

"Everything okay, Ms. Taylor?" called the senior boy running the bumper cars.

"Fine, fine," Emily answered distractedly. She stared at the white square of paper on the floor, regarding it as a little monster that might attack her at any moment.
What am I afraid of? Paper cuts
? she asked herself, steeling her nerve to pick up the white square and hurry from the ride.

As soon as she was out of sight of curious eyes, she took a huge breath and unfolded the paper. Typed in the middle of the page was the following message:

Meet me at the Ferris wheel at 8:30. Come alone. I have information you need.

She read the words over and over, wondering who could have left this missive for her and what he or she could possibly have to tell her. How did the writer of the note know to leave a note for her in that particular bumper car? Her mind replayed the moments she had spent standing in line with a large group of her students. The ride had been packed, and she had voiced her car preference several times. Could someone have followed her to the ride and, overhearing which car she was going to choose, left her the note? That seemed awfully convoluted, but she had no other explanation. Even as distracted as she had been after witnessing Larry and Susanna's little tête-à-tête, she was pretty sure she would have noticed a large piece of paper stuck to her shoe or something. So, if she was going with the premise that someone followed her to the bumper cars for the sole purpose of delivering this message to her, what should she do about it? Should she even consider meeting the person, or turn the note over to Gangly-Arms, as she had with the scrap of paper she had found in her booth? And thinking of that piece of paper, she was reminded that it had been used as some sort of physical evidence against Amelia, according to Trent. Was Amelia out on bail yet? If not, there was no way she could have left this note, not that Emily thought she would have anyway. But could she use this second note as evidence that there was no way Amelia could have been involved? But if she was out on bail, could this note somehow be used against her?

Emily knew her mind was made up, but she thought the best thing for her to do would be to run her plan by someone else. She headed toward the Mathletes booth to see if Tad was free yet. If he thought her plan was foolish, she could turn the paper over to the police. If he agreed with her, she would hold onto the note until she knew more about why the police had arrested Amelia. Filled with a sense of purpose, she came around the back corner of the Mathletes booth, but once again, the sight before her brought her up short.

The green monster growled as she saw Maclaine's blonde curls and Tad's dark head bent close together over a clipboard they held between them. Students moved around them like busy little worker bees, dismantling the booth. Watching for a few moments, Emily turned away and snapped the monster back on its short leash. They were probably working on Mathletes business, and the more she thought about it, the less anxious she was to tell Tad about the note. She knew him, and his cautious nature would advise she turn the piece of paper over to the police and forget about it. But Emily's curiosity had gotten the better of her, and she really wanted to know who had written the letter and what information he or she might have. Although it was probably just some ploy for attention or a desperate bid for money in exchange for information, she would always wonder if she didn't follow through with the meeting.