“I’m going to 22 Piedmont Street, in Woodville,” said Luke to the cabdriver. He had to repeat it a few times—the driver was blasting music—but after a few tries and a few mentions of nearby landmarks, the driver nodded his head.
Suddenly the other door swung open. Instinctively, Luke slid to put his back against his own door, ready to face the threat. Luckily he stopped himself from doing anything before realizing it was Pippa.
“Budge up,” Pippa said to him, sliding in and telling the driver, “We can go now.”
“What are you doing?” asked Luke.
“I needed to talk to you in private, without your dumber half around,” she said.
Pippa looked intense. She was wearing a black wool coat and her matching beret with a long, white scarf. Luke didn’t want to give Oscar credit, but with her pale skin and long, nearly white hair, the black-and-white outfit did make her look pretty edgy.
Pippa stared at Luke, as if challenging him to refuse. They hadn’t left campus yet, so he could still tell the driver to stop.
“Okay, fine,” Luke said.
“Tell me where we’re going.”
“To church,” said Luke.
Pippa frowned. “For real.”
“First, you tell me what you want to talk about. You’re the one crashing my cab.”
“All right,” said Pippa. She turned her head up to the ceiling of the cab, focused intently on the spot where the sun was shining, and took a deep breath.
“Tamara and I were best friends. Really, truly. On the day of her…death… Well, we had quarreled. I told her to sod off, and then she begged me to forgive her, and we made up. But I told her I needed time. I couldn’t be her instant best friend again after what she had done…”
Her voice trailed off. Luke watched her with curiosity, waiting for her to continue. “What had she done?” he prompted.
Pippa remained silent for what seemed like ages. “I don’t want to go into that now,” she said finally.
“Come on, you can’t give me half the story.”
“Honestly, it’s better that you don’t know. Things are still…unsettled.”
Luke watched her fumble for words. She appeared genuinely upset, but he didn’t want to let her off the hook yet. “Okay, well, just continue. Then what?”
“Then… I really did leave her there. I know everyone said, ‘Oh, it was dark, what a terrible thing to do,’ but I needed to think things through, and she had to meet someone.”
“Someone?”
“It’s complicated. But I believe the person she met killed her.”
“Who?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not? I obviously won’t know whoever it is.”
Pippa just shook her head.
“Okay, but why didn’t you at least tell the police you think that person did it?”
“I did!”
“Then why can’t they arrest him, or her?”
Pippa stared at Luke, and her lower lip trembled. “Because that person has an alibi. But the alibi is unreliable.”
“Can’t the police prove that?”
“They will. It’s only a matter of wearing him down. Trust me, my parents have a team of lawyers working on that.”
Luke sighed and glanced out the window. “I don’t know, you’re not really telling me anything. I’m way confused.”
“Luke, please,” implored Pippa. “I’m really not supposed to be talking about it, but please believe me. I didn’t kill Tamara. She was my best friend.”
“How can I believe you when you keep telling me that you can’t tell me anything?” Luke stormed.
“Don’t get mad,” she said, alarmed.
“I just don’t get it. If you didn’t kill your friend, then who do you think did, and why can’t you talk about it?”
Pippa stared at him, and he saw tears spring into her eyes. For a second he almost backed down. He never thought he’d see Pippa cry.
“I just can’t.” Tears slid down her cheeks.
“Why?”
“Because, because…”
“Because what?” Luke’s heart quickened. Why couldn’t she tell?
“Because I feel ashamed. Because I had trusted him! I should have known better. I was always an outcast; I should have seen the signs. But I totally bought it. He was important to me, and then I find out that he and Tamara…” Pippa’s voice caught, and she couldn’t finish. She put her hands over her face, and her body shook from sobs. Luke felt instantly guilty. He had made a girl cry. Granted, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t a killer, but still. He felt lousy. And no doubt she was talking about a boyfriend or something, which made him feel worse. He didn’t like thinking of her with another guy.
“It’s okay,” said Luke, patting Pippa on the back. Pippa kept her face in her hands for another minute. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”
Pippa was silent while she collected herself. When she finally looked at him, she had wiped away her tears. “I miss my friend. I miss my life. I feel so sad all the time, that’s why I seem like a bitch. I’m trying to do everything not to lose it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize… First Mrs. Heckler, then the article on you. I jumped to conclusions.” He took her hand, and she let him hold it carefully.
“Do you really think that the authorities in England would have let me leave the country if they thought I did it? Do you think St. Benedict’s would have accepted me?”
Luke thought about it. He supposed not. “No.”
“It’s been dreadful. This whole thing, with the press and everything. That’s why I had to leave the country. Everyone thinks I’m evil.”
“I know you’re not evil,” he said, looking her straight in the eye.
Pippa returned his gaze. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand.
“And I know how messed up the press is. It’s all projection. One minute they want to build you up—and they’re only too game to call you a hero, and the next second they want to bring you down. That’s what I figured out after I escaped; they had me on all these shows and stuff, wanted me to be a star—like better than a regular person.” Luke shook his head. “It was unsustainable. My shrink told my parents that doing the publicity would be good for me. Like, I’d own the story; it would be my message, or something like that. But I didn’t want to be the golden boy and then wait for them to come after me to tear me down. I came to St. Benedict’s to disappear.”
It was the most Luke had said to anyone about his abduction. Pippa smiled at him.
“Then you and I are alike,” she said. “I sort of thought so. You have the haunted look of someone who has seen too much.”
“That’s because my eyes are so light blue. It makes me look intense, that’s all.”
Pippa smiled and pressed her lips together, as if trying not to laugh. “It’s true, you have pretty eyes, but you didn’t need to fish for a compliment. That’s not exactly what I meant about seeing too much.”
Luke had been so absorbed in their conversation that he’d forgotten they weren’t technically alone, but luckily the driver was preoccupied with his music. Luke looked down at their hands, now clasped together warmly.
He still had one last question.
“What about Kelsey? Why did you leave her out there?”
“I didn’t think I left her out there,” said Pippa with exasperation. “I know some girls don’t mind peeing with one another, but I find it quite gross. I went off to the other side of the trees. When I finished, I saw a glimpse of her green coat in the moonlight over on the other side, kind of lying down, so quite honestly I thought she might, you know, need more privacy.”
“You mean her Patagonia?”
“What?” Pippa looked confused.
“Kelsey was wearing a fleece. A dark-blue Patagonia fleece jacket. She wears it all the time,” Luke said. “But you just said you saw her out there in a green coat.”
Pippa squinted. “I saw her out there in a coat…”
The minute she said it, they both knew that Pippa had not seen Kelsey when she was going to the bathroom. She had seen Mrs. Heckler. Who was, no doubt, already dead by then, lying in the bushes.
“Oh my God,” said Pippa. “I thought she was murdered after we left!”
“I did too. But I think this means it happened when we were there.”
It took a few moments to sink in. Luke again felt that eerie sensation that there was a missing piece to this puzzle that was right in front of them, but he couldn’t see it.
“So maybe Kelsey was right. Maybe, when she came back all angry saying someone was out there, maybe it was the killer,” said Pippa.
Luke thought of Mr. Tadeckis. He was definitely out there, he had told Luke. But why would he kill Mrs. Heckler? Had he been the mystery man? He couldn’t imagine that he was Mrs. Heckler’s lover. Was the dean out there? Had anyone seen Kelsey? Luke didn’t want to tell Pippa all that he knew. It was all conjecture. Plus she definitely didn’t have Oscar’s best interest at heart.
“Yeah, that would be weird if the killer saw us.”
“Maybe he’s just biding his time, and he’s going to come after us one by one,” said Pippa.
“No way. That sounds like the plot of a horror movie.”
“Seriously, it could happen. We could all be targeted.”
“I don’t even want to go there.”
“Okay, then go here and tell me where we’re going now and why.”
Luke told her everything about the impending visit. Pippa thought he was insane to attempt to meet with the woman, but luckily she was game to participate.
* * *
“Excuse me, Mrs. Johnson?” asked Luke.
“It’s Ms. Johnson,” said the capable-looking woman who was raking the leaves on the front lawn of a small, white, traditional house. “Mr. left years ago,” she said, flashing a toothy grin.
It was the opening they needed. As Ms. Johnson waited expectantly, Luke gathered his thoughts on how to best approach the sensitive topic.
“Well, regarding Mr. is exactly why we’re here,” interjected Pippa. “We’re students at St. Benedict’s, and we work on the school newspaper. We know it’s terribly bad form to just show up unannounced and try to ask you all sorts of questions, but we have a very aggressive editor who is determined to get into Harvard, and she has sent us novices out here to try and solicit some information from you.”
Ms. Johnson glanced at them as if she was deciding what to do.
“Do you think we could take a minute of your time and ask you some questions?” asked Luke in his politest voice.
“All right,” said Ms. Johnson, throwing down her rake. “I’ve talked to everyone, a few more shouldn’t matter. Come on inside. What did you say your names were?”
They followed her inside, making brief chitchat along the way. The house was warm and well-decorated. Luke had for some reason expected a dirty house, a weepy and bitter ex-wife, and a scene out of a low-budget movie. But instead, the house was clean with nice, framed black-and-white photographs of landscapes hanging on the wall, comfy sofas and armchairs upholstered in cranberry with several throw pillows, and a large, Chinese-style coffee table with lots of books on it. In fact the decor kind of resembled those Pottery Barn catalogs his mother received in the mail.
“Would you like something to drink?” asked Ms. Johnson. “Coke? Tea?”
“Um, anything,” said Luke.
“Tea would be lovely,” said Pippa decisively.
Ms. Johnson went to the other room, the kitchen presumably. Luke glanced around the room, hoping to find a voodoo doll in the shape of Mrs. Heckler, or maybe a dartboard with her image plastered in the center, but there was, of course, nothing of the sort. He turned and looked at Pippa, who arched her eyebrow at him. She’d recovered from her tears and now seemed quite composed.
“So, how can I help you?” said Ms. Johnson, returning and plopping on the armchair across from them. Almost immediately, a fluffy, white cat appeared out of nowhere and hopped on her lap.
“Adorable. What’s his name?” asked Pippa, reaching over to pet the cat under his chin. The cat purred quietly, tilting his head up.
“Mr. Whiskers,” said Ms. Johnson proudly. “The only male I let near me these days.” Then she turned to Luke and added, “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“He’s precious,” said Pippa.
Wow, she’s good, thought Luke. Thank God she’d jumped on board. Small talk was never his thing, as he’d learned at all of those insufferable parties that his parents hosted through the years.
“Well, we don’t want to take up too much of your time. We just wanted to ask you, and we know it’s sensitive, about Mrs. Heckler,” said Luke.
“Oh, the late, great Joanna Volk Johnson Heckler. She finally pissed off the wrong person.” Ms. Johnson laughed with unrestrained malice.
“Do you mind if we get a little history from you?” asked Pippa. “I mean, forgive us if we’re being too audacious.”
“No, everyone knows the story,” she said. “I’m a physician’s assistant, and when I met Joanna we were both working for a small medical practice. She was in pharmaceuticals, you know, one of those people who drags a little roller suitcase around with samples. We became friends, very good friends. She confided in me about how she was having an affair with the older doctor that we worked for—married, I might add—and in turn, I talked to her about my life. She spent more and more time at my house with me and my ex—I refuse to call him by name. I mean, every weekend, dinners, movies, everything. I was so naïve. Next thing I know, they sit me down and tell me they are in love and sayonara, sweetie.”
“Wow,” was all Luke could say. He was surprised by her candor. Most of the adults around him—his teachers, his parents, their friends—were much more formal. He couldn’t imagine them confiding in him as if he were the host of a talk show.
“You must have been furious,” said Pippa.
“That’s the understatement of the decade,” Ms. Johnson said, as she got up to go attend to the screaming kettle. She disappeared into the kitchen, and again Pippa raised her eyebrow at Luke.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he whispered.
“Shhh…”
Ms. Johnson returned with two steaming mugs.
“Listen, I know what you’re thinking. That I murdered her. Believe me, I would have loved to! She is—was—the most cunning, manipulative, selfish, and awful person I have met in my life. She insinuated herself into my world, then destroyed it. I wanted her dead. And don’t worry, I told the police this,” she said, placing the mugs in front of them and giving them a look to make sure they both heard her.
“We didn’t think you murdered her,” said Luke quickly.
“I would have if I could have gotten away with it!” She snickered. Then she got serious. “But listen, I want to reiterate that I went through all this with the police. They didn’t think I had anything to do with it, but because of our history, they had to pay me a visit. I work at Memorial Hospital now, and I was on duty all night last Tuesday. And now that she ditched my ex and made his life miserable, I’ve moved on. Everyone gets his or her comeuppance. I have faith in karma.”
“Me too,” said Pippa nodding.
“Why did she leave your ex?” asked Luke.
“I think he ran out of money!” said Ms. Johnson with a laugh. “He doesn’t have the big bucks. He owns a sporting goods store in town. Joanna liked to live large, and even though her family had money, she liked to be spoiled by men.” Ms. Johnson made a gagging gesture, and Pippa smiled. “My ex was handsome as hell, I have to give him that as much as I hate to, and he also talked big. He probably duped her into thinking he was a hotshot.”
“Then why would she go for the dean?” asked Luke.
“Well, Joanna walks—walked—that fine line of wanting stability and wanting danger. Needing danger. I heard she got some money from her father for marrying Carl Heckler. He wanted her settled down; he withheld money from her because he thought she was unstable.”
“Her own father paid her off to get married?” asked Pippa.
“I wonder if Dean Heckler knows that?” Luke murmured.
Ms. Johnson looked at both Luke and Pippa. “Are you sure this is appropriate for a school newspaper?”
“Well, we just want background,” said Luke quickly.
“I guess. But please don’t humiliate Carl. He was pretty shocked when I told him all of this.”
“You told him?” asked Luke, aghast. “When?”
“He came by a few weeks ago. Asked me all sorts of questions about Joanna. The poor guy had no idea what a predator she was. Joanna was that talented.” Ms. Johnson stared into the distance, her eyes glazing over as if she was remembering.
“Was he here before or after she died?” asked Luke.
“Before.”
Luke and Pippa exchanged glances.
“Do you think he knew she was cheating on him?” asked Pippa.
Ms. Johnson scrunched up her nose and thought. “He said that he recently learned she wasn’t the person he thought she was. I think he was upset about that.”
“Upset enough to murder her?” asked Luke.
Ms. Johnson stopped, and her face became angry. “Joanna could make anyone upset enough to murder her. Especially those closest to her.”
Luke and Pippa paused, unsure of what to say next. Sensing their discomfort, she softened. “Sorry, but you can see how she affected me. Luckily, I’m not a psychopath.”
“Yeah,” said Luke with nervous laughter.
Pippa looked pensive. “Did Dean Heckler say anything else?”
Ms. Johnson glanced at the ceiling, trying to recollect. “Not really.”
“Anything about how he found out that she was unfaithful?”
“Hmmm. No, just something about her being nervous and stressed. Funny, sounds like she may have grown a conscience. Finally realized that what she was doing was wrong.”
“But it was too late,” said Pippa with genuine sadness.