They slaughtered them. It was embarrassing. St. Benedict’s scored five goals, and Rutherford Academy didn’t even get one. Luke was elated; it was a nice end to a very stressful week, and it was a good omen for the big game coming up with their main rival, Brewster Hall. After showering, Luke left the locker room, went to sign out, and set off toward the first Mrs. Heckler’s house. Oscar had wanted to go with him, but they agreed that with Oscar under the cloud of suspicion it was better for him to lay low. Especially since they couldn’t be sure, but they had both sensed that Oscar was being watched by the hired security guards. The last thing they wanted was a tail. So while Luke went, Oscar was going to snoop around and try to get some intel on the other suspects on their list.
Luke had tried to get Mrs. Heckler’s address from the campus directory, but her name didn’t show up anywhere. When Luke googled her, he found out she lived on one of the small cul-de-sacs off Banks Road. Once again, it confounded him as to why she would be walking her dog on campus at three in the morning if she didn’t even live there. Something was not right about that.
As he set out, he realized he should have taken his bike. The sun was dropping, leaving only about an hour of twilight before dusk. On weeknights, students had to be on campus by six, but on weekends they were given a bit more leeway in case they wanted to go to the movies. Other schools had stricter sign-outs, but the town was so small, St. B’s probably felt there was no need to bother. This week, though, Luke was supposed to get permission to leave campus due to the murder, but he hadn’t been able to find Mr. Crawford after the game. He had slipped him a note under his door and hoped he would be back before it was dark. It wasn’t so much the darkness that worried him but more the townie factor.
Unfortunately, Southborough was not a prosperous town, and St. Benedict’s was a prosperous school, so that led to tension between the kids at St. Benedict’s and the kids who attended the public high school in town (a.k.a. the townies.). Sometimes the students from St. Benedict’s would be walking to Pizza Hut, or one of the only two other restaurants that Southborough boasted—Pizza Hut and a local Italian place called Antonucci’s—and some kids would drive by and throw stuff at them. In return, the St. Benedict’s kids would yell back all sorts of snotty stuff about SAT scores and future welfare recipients, and the fights would escalate. Luke hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with that tonight.
Suburban and country living was a lot different from growing up in Georgetown. Every time Luke returned to St. Benedict’s, it took a while to readjust to the quiet, rural setting. He was glad that he had the opportunity to experience this type of school, which was full of pep rallies and football games, but there were times he preferred the anonymity of city living. His parents had decided to send him to St. Benedict’s abruptly right after the incident. They had thought he would be safer tucked away in a quiet boarding school in a sleepy town. That was laughable now. And it was frustrating to Luke, because what had happened to him before was circumstantial. It wouldn’t have mattered where he was living; it had to do with his family, not him. He felt better prepared these days. The trick was to learn how to sense danger. In a city, danger followed patterns. But in the country, danger was more random, which made it feel far more sinister. Desolate houses along poorly lit streets had all the makings of a horror movie.
When he finally turned down Mrs. Heckler’s street, he had three split-level houses to choose from. He wanted to see if he could guess which was hers without looking at her address in his pocket. The first one had a ton of kids’ toys in front, and since he knew she didn’t have kids, he looked at the second, which had two Harley-Davidsons in the front. A biker librarian? No way. So Luke turned his attention to the third. It was pretty nondescript, dark brown with green trim. Neat. A Prius in the driveway. Bingo. That’s the type of car a librarian would drive. With utter certainty, he waltzed up to the door and rang the bell. Minutes later, a big man with a mustache came to the door.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Um…is Mrs. Heckler here?” Luke asked nervously. He hadn’t expected a man to be there. He’d thought she would still be single.
“I think you want that house over there,” he said, pointing to the house with all the toys in front.
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t have kids.”
“The woman who works at the prep school? With the dog?”
“Yes.”
“That’s her house,” he said sternly.
“Oh, okay,” said Luke. “Sorry to bother you.”
Luke stepped off the man’s front porch and pulled the crumpled-up paper out of his pocket. Sure enough, the address of the toy house was the one he had written down. Damn. He really needed to improve his sleuthing skills.
He walked over to her house, examining the abandoned tricycles and soccer balls, as well as a tiny, pink plastic stroller. Definitely not dog toys. It was so odd. No one had ever said she and Heckler had kids.
Luke rang the doorbell; certain there was some mistake.
As soon as he did, he heard barking.
“Hush, Blackie! Hush!” someone said from inside.
The door opened, and there was Mrs. Heckler with a black Lab.
“Luke,” she said. “What a surprise.”
She was surprised? Not as surprised as Luke. He never thought she would know who he was.
“How did you know—” he started to say, but then stopped when he realized she obviously must know him from the Kidnapped Kid story. He would never get used to that.
“Oh, I know all the students,” Mrs. Heckler said. “I remember referring you to some books for your history paper last year? On child labor in the Colorado mines?”
Luke nodded. He didn’t trust himself to say anything. This wasn’t exactly turning out the way he thought. She had a good memory, recalling not only that she’d helped him, but the topic too.
“What brings you out here? Another paper?”
Luke blinked. “Oh, no, nothing like that. Um, is this yours? Well, not yours, I mean. Blackie’s?” Luke held up a small, checkered sweater that was clearly fashioned for a dog. Oscar had “borrowed” it from his adviser’s daughter (unbeknownst to her) and would return it when Luke brought it home. It would only be missing a few hours. It was the only ruse they could think of to get to Mrs. Heckler.
“No, it’s not his,” said Mrs. Heckler. “But that was very thoughtful of you to come all this way to return it.”
Luke looked at Mrs. Heckler. She wore big glasses that took up most of her face, but if he squinted, he could imagine that she was probably pretty when she was younger, and not as exhausted as she looked right now.
“Well, sorry to bother you,” said Luke.
“Hey, Mama M., when’s dinner?” asked a small girl who wrapped her arms around Mrs. Heckler.
“In ten minutes, sweetie,” said Mrs. Heckler. “Go tell your brother to wash his hands.”
Mrs. Heckler had kids? Things were getting more and more confusing.
“Sorry about that, it’s dinnertime,” said Mrs. Heckler.
“Oh, I won’t keep you,” said Luke, taking a step back. “It’s just that I saw you in the woods the other day, and when I found the sweater I thought it might be Blackie’s.”
“You saw me in the woods?” Mrs. Heckler’s eyebrows rose.
“Well, not in the woods. Going into the woods. I live in Wilcox, and I saw you out the window of my room late one night.”
“You kids stay up way too late studying. I worry about all the pressure you’re under. It’s too much. I’ve been working with the administration to come up with some homework guidelines because they don’t see what you kids go through the way I do.”
Luke shifted uncomfortably. It was difficult to picture her as a cold-blooded killer when she was doing things like remembering his history topic from over a year ago, and talking about how worried she was about her students.
“Mary, who’s there?” said a male voice from behind the door.
“It’s Luke Chase,” she said.
And then out of nowhere, Dean Heckler was suddenly standing in the doorway.
“Luke Chase? What are you doing here?”
Luke wanted to ask him the same question. What are you doing here? Isn’t she your ex-wife? And whose kids are these? But he knew he couldn’t. Before he could answer, Mrs. Heckler jumped in.
“He’s very sweet. He brought this dog sweater over because he thought it was Blackie’s.”
“Huh,” was all Dean Heckler said. He stared at Luke, looking him up and down. Dean Heckler had that look of someone in the military. Close-cropped silver hair, a strong chin, and he always stood totally erect, as if he was prepared at any time to salute a commanding officer. Anyone who dealt with him knew he was as harsh as a military sergeant. And there were those CIA rumors, too.
“Well, I’ll be going now,” said Luke. “Sorry to have bothered you.”
“You going back to campus, son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll drive you then,” he said, before turning to Mrs. Heckler. “Thanks, Mary.”
“You take care, Carl,” she said, squeezing his arm.
Luke was embarrassed to witness this moment between them. What was the deal here? They were divorced, so shouldn’t they hate each other? Why were they hanging out? Luke silently followed the dean down the path to the bottom of the driveway, where the dean’s Toyota Camry was parked. He got in the passenger seat, and as soon as the dean put the key in the ignition the seat belts swung forward, and Luke strapped himself in tightly.
“That was awful nice of you, taking time out of your Saturday evening to come and return a dog sweater,” said the dean.
“Oh, well, the weekends are really the only time I can get off-campus, so…”
The dean continued driving in silence. Luke became nervous. Then he realized that he hadn’t said anything in the form of a condolence to the dean. He felt weird. What should he say? What if the dean started crying? No, he wouldn’t. But the silence was too strange.
“Sir, I just want to say I’m sorry about your wife. I’ve never been through anything like that, obviously… Um, but I know it must be painful.”
“Thanks, son,” Dean Heckler said. “It’s the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
Luke was surprised to see an expression of emotion transform his face. Especially since he had just been at his ex-wife’s house.
The dean cocked his head to the side, as if he were debating something, and then abruptly spoke.
“A lot of people are interested in this. A lot of reporters have been poking around. And I know the students think this is the most exciting thing to ever happen. But to me it’s a tragedy, and I hope people will respect my privacy.”
Luke nodded. But then it dawned on him that maybe the dean was accusing him of poking around. Which he actually was doing, but still.
“Sir, I hope you don’t think I am interested in the…scandalous elements of this situation,” Luke said. “I just found the dog sweater, and as a dog owner myself I would hate to lose something like that, so I thought I’d track down your wife, um, your ex-wife.”
Dean Heckler nodded. Luke glanced outside the window at the trees that were now enveloped in shadows. This time of year, night seemed to seep into daylight earlier and earlier. He was actually glad, as awkward as it was, that he got a ride home. It would have been a bummer to walk back. When they reached a stoplight, the dean turned and looked at Luke. “I can tell you’re wondering what I was doing at Mary’s tonight. And though it’s not your business, and I have no reason to tell you, I will, simply to stop any potential rumors from starting. Mary and I are still close friends. Sometimes people grow apart, as we did, and we decided to do the mature thing and end it amicably. Mary lives with her sister, Tilly, and she’s now a foster mother and is very happy in her life, and I was happy, too, until this week. I just don’t want anyone to think Mary could have done something like this… I see you shaking your head, but there has been talk, and I can tell you now, Mary wouldn’t hurt a fly. She is a good woman.”
“She’s very nice,” Luke said when the dean paused. He added quietly, “She helped me a lot last year with some history research.”
The light changed, and they continued on; Luke could tell the dean was pensive. He was definitely shaken up, that was for sure. Luke had never heard him talk so much in his life.
“You know, people want different things in life,” said the dean, almost to himself as much as to Luke. “Mary loves small children, and, well, I’m a teacher, so of course I love kids,” he said, without much enthusiasm, “but I don’t need my own. She did. And then Mary’s a homebody, and I got the itch to travel, see some more of the world.”
“Right,” Luke said. “Like Las Vegas.”
“Vegas?” asked the dean, with a little laugh. “Is that where you’d go first when you decide to see the world? Never been myself. But Joanna and I went to Paris and New Orleans. We were planning a Christmas trip to Vancouver, and then maybe back to Europe. Italy next time.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Would have been, would have been.”
Luke could make out the jagged, castle-like edges of St. Benedict’s against the inky sky, and knew they were fast approaching school.
“Wilcox?” The dean asked, and when Luke nodded, he rounded the loop and stopped in front of the dorm.
“Well, thanks for the ride,” said Luke.
“No problem,” said the dean, as Luke exited the car and shut the door. The dean rolled down the window. “Oh, and Luke?”
“Yes, sir?” asked Luke, leaning into the window.
“I know you bringing that sweater over to my ex-wife’s house was a pile of horse crap. I’ve got my eye on you now. You watch out.”
The dean pulled out of the driveway, leaving Luke in the dust.