“Hey, Chase, I found something you might be interested in.”
Luke glanced next to him in the lunch line and saw George Higgins holding his tray.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I’ll wait for you to grab your lunch,” said George, walking off to the side.
After Luke had filled his tray—grilled chicken fajitas—he made his way over to Higgins. “What’s up?”
“After what we saw in the copy room, I became very interested. I’ve just spent every waking moment of free time reviewing old footage. I want to show you one part before I take it to the police.”
Fifteen minutes later they were in the digital yearbook room. Luke had gobbled down his lunch and then waited anxiously while George Higgins took his sweet time attempting to doctor up his grilled chicken with things from the salad bar. Finally, they were ensconced in the chairs in front of the monitor.
“It’s huge,” said Higgins.
“I’m ready.”
Higgins pressed play, and Luke watched as the copy room flickered onto the screen. At first, there was nothing, but then a second later, there was a blur as people came in. One of them was Mrs. Heckler—the dead one. Luke squinted. It was hard to see who she was talking to; all that was visible was the sleeve of a blue-checked button-down. But her face said it all. It was clear she was very angry with the person in question.
“Listen, I want you to get the hell away from me. It’s over. Stop harassing me!” she said, before waving her finger in the person’s face and marching out of the room.
The person didn’t move.
“Can you tell who it is?” asked Luke eagerly.
“Just wait.”
Luke watched as Mrs. Holliway entered.
“Oh, hello there,” she said to the person Mrs. Heckler had just yelled at.
He or she must have nodded hello, or at least not rudely or suspiciously, because Mrs. Holliway stepped forward to the copier machine and commenced her daily routine of tree slaughtering.
The blue-checked sleeve disappeared. Whoever it was left without showing their face.
“Mrs. Holliway was blocking him!” said Luke. “Can you rewind?”
“I can, but I sat here and watched this thing about twenty times last night. I even broke it down to slo-mo. Mrs. Holliway is blocking the guy completely. All you see is a flash of blue, and dark hair.”
“Well, at least that’s something! We know he has dark hair!” said Luke.
“Do you know how many faculty members have dark hair?”
“No.”
“Seventeen. And I’m talking full head.”
“You counted?”
“Totally. And not to mention that there are students with dark hair. If the rumor is true that she was with a student. I mean, Oscar has dark hair.”
Luke’s pulse quickened. It was true. Oscar has dark hair. And a blue shirt like the one the guy was wearing.
Luke’s mind raced. “Let me talk to Mrs. Holliway before you give this to the police.”
“I don’t know,” said Higgins.
“Come on. I’ll go right now.”
“Fine, but I’m giving it to them by the end of the day.”
“Whatever,” said Luke, leaping out of his chair. As he did so, the knife dropped out of his pocket.
“What’s that?” asked Higgins with astonishment.
Luke quickly picked up the knife. “Oh, nothing, just a knife.”
“I think it’s illegal to carry a knife here.”
“Is it? Well, it’s Swiss Army. It’s also a corkscrew.”
“It’s illegal to drink also.”
“Thanks, Einstein. I just need to carry this around for…um, my survival course.”
“Your survival course?”
“Yeah, I’m taking one with Mr. Tadeckis. Planning on going camping, in training now, so I need it.”
“Oh,” said Higgins.
“Yeah. Thanks for showing me this,” said Luke, quickly exiting. He put the knife into his back pocket. From now on he’d have to be more careful about where he kept it.
* * *
“Mrs. Holliway?” asked Luke in his most polite voice.
“Yes, dear, what can I do for you?”
Mrs. Holliway was a stout woman with a strong Boston accent. Luke noticed the stacks and stacks of neatly organized papers on her desk. She must have an addiction to copying, he thought. This might be something to bring up at the next STEAM meeting.
“I was wondering if you remember who you said hi to a few weeks ago, I think it was October second, in the copy room?”
“Excuse me?” she asked with confusion.
“I thought you might remember, I know it’s a long shot.”
“I don’t know if I could possibly remember who I said hi to in the copy room. Lots of people. What is this about?”
“Yes, Luke, what is this about?” said a voice behind Luke.
Uh-oh. Luke turned around and was face-to-face with Mr. P. His heart sunk.
“I just was wondering…”
Luke tried to think of an excuse fast, but nothing would come to his head.
“Luke, I think you need to come with me,” said Mr. P., putting his arm on Luke’s shoulder and walking him out of Mrs. Holliway’s office. “If my suspicions are correct, you’re proceeding with your own investigation. The headmaster told me about this.”
“No sir…”
“Luke, we have an honor code. I don’t want you to lie.”
Luke remained silent. Mr. P. shook his head.
“Is there something you want to tell me? Have you discovered any information?” pressed Mr. P.
“No.”
“Nothing at all? I need to know everything. What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything.”
Mr. P. examined Luke’s face carefully. “You are putting yourself in danger if you are not truthful. Why did you want to know who was using the copy room?”
“I…” But Luke didn’t know what to say. He was just curious? Yeah, the dean would never buy that. “I don’t know.”
“No good will come of this. You can’t be poking your nose in other people’s business.”
“I’m not. I won’t.”
Mr. P. changed tack. “Look, why don’t you come to my office on Monday, and we’ll have a chat. Who’s your adviser?”
“Mr. Crawford.”
“Great. I’ll let him know that I would like to see both of you. I’ll see you at three o’clock.”
“Yes, sir,” said Luke, dismayed. Great. This was just what he needed. It was overwhelming, and he felt like he was starting to crack. Maybe he did need to disclose what he knew to someone.
* * *
On his way back to his dorm, Luke decided to stop by Mr. Hamaguchi’s office for a consultation. He was having trouble writing up the dissection lab.
“If you’re looking for Hamaguchi, he’s not there,” said Liz on her way down the path from the science building.
“He’s not?”
“No, and it’s super annoying. I don’t get any of the stuff that’s going to be on the quiz, and he said he would be there today to go over the study guide.”
Liz dropped her knapsack on a bench by the entrance and shoved her thick chemistry textbook inside.
“Did he leave a note?”
“Said he was in Archer, and he’d be right back,” she said, blowing a strand of her dark hair out of her eyes. “But I waited at his office for, like, ten minutes, and he was AWOL. I’m going to email him and see if I can meet him after field hockey, but I’m supposed to be Skyping with my SAT tutor tonight already.”
“I’ll roam around Archer and see if I can find him.”
“You may want to check downstairs. Please tell him I was here. If I can’t meet with him, maybe he’ll still give me credit for trying.”
“Will do.”
Luke crossed over to Archer and descended the stairs. C Level—which was basically the basement—housed the wood shop, three photography darkrooms, and the pottery studio, as well as a number of utility closets. Luke walked across the carpeted floor and glanced into the wood shop. Mr. Kessler was conducting a class and holding a giant saw. Luke saw various first-years he recognized, but no Mr. Hamaguchi. He continued onward and peered into the window of the pottery studio and the first darkroom. Again, no sign of Hamaguchi.
It wasn’t until he reached the last darkroom that he found him. The darkrooms had a light bulb outside that illuminated orange if someone was working and didn’t want you to come in. That meant they were at a sensitive stage of the development process and exposure to light would compromise their film. It was all super retro in this age of digital photography, but lots of the really artsy kids loved it.
The bulb outside the third room was orange, so Luke waited. He hoped whoever was developing would be finished soon. Sure enough, in about three minutes the orange light went off. Luke opened the heavy metal door and walked into the room. The entrance was shrouded in a thick black curtain and darkness. This was to ensure time to announce yourself in case the person in the darkroom was still doing something with the film.
“Hello?” Luke called out.
There was no response.
He slowly opened the curtain and peered in. The room was dark, and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust. But he saw Mr. Hamaguchi standing over a tray of glossy prints, swirling them in the developing liquid.
“Mr. Hamaguchi?”
Luke took a few steps toward him, careful to close the curtain. He squinted his way through the murkiness until he could see Mr. Hamaguchi closer. He was wearing huge, noise-canceling headphones, and Luke could hear the faint murmur of music.
Luke moved toward him and was about to reach out his hand to touch Mr. Hamaguchi’s shoulder when he stopped. The pictures stared out at him from their trays. They were almost all of Joanna Heckler, yet there were some of another blond who vaguely resembled her, but younger. Jeez, thought Luke. Why was Mr. Hamaguchi printing these pictures? This was all so creepy.
Luke slowly retraced his steps and walked backward as quietly as possible, feeling his heart thumping. He got out before Mr. Hamaguchi saw him.
* * *
Luke was now late for sports and furiously throwing on his clothes with shaky hands when his phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Dude, it’s me.”
Oscar. Luke was caught off guard.
“Oh, hi.”
“Look, sorry we haven’t talked. I’ve been under surveillance forever. I haven’t been allowed to talk to anyone.”
“Anyone?” asked Luke, dripping with sarcasm. “Because that’s not what I heard.”
“What do you mean?” asked Oscar.
“I hear you’re living the life. I’m busting my butt trying to exonerate you, and you’re at concerts…”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down. I went to one concert. My parents made the exception because their friend’s daughter was in from out of town and needed someone to go with her.”
“Right,” said Luke harshly. “So was she the teacher everyone says you’re banging…”
“What?” exclaimed Oscar. “I’m not banging a teacher.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“What do you mean?”
“I keep hearing reports that you’re all over town with some older, married teacher. Wow, Oscar. You act all wide-eyed and innocent, insist you’d never go there, and you’re totally lying to my face.”
“I’m not hooking up with anyone, but if I was, it definitely wouldn’t be Sheila, who is probably the person you’re talking about.”
“Oh, her name is Sheila?”
“Yes. And she’s my tutor. That’s why I’ve been quote, unquote, everywhere with her. I’m trying to keep up my grades so I can come back to school.”
Since when had Oscar cared about keeping his grades up? “Well, what about the Post-it that I found? From Mrs. Heckler or, as you like to call her, Joanna.”
“What Post-it?” asked Oscar. “Wait, are you talking about the Taco Ranch again?”
“Yes.”
“I explained that…”
“Yeah, but you told me it was a restaurant in Los Angeles. It’s in Vegas,” said Luke.
“It’s in Los Angeles and Las Vegas,” said Oscar. “She’d been to the one in Vegas and was going on and on about it. She asked me if I’d been, and when she found out I was going to LA, she got all excited and told me I had to go to the Taco Ranch because it was so awesome.”
“Oh,” said Luke. “So you guys talked a lot?”
“Luke,” said Oscar with exasperation. “I told you I was in there working off demerits. That’s it. That’s all I was doing. I could tell right away that the woman was trouble. Short skirts, all flirty, and totally bored at her job. All she wanted to do was talk. I don’t think she was so much into me, she just can’t relate to guys without coming on to them. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: that woman knew how to push people’s buttons.”
Luke didn’t know what to say. Oscar had answered all of his questions. A flood of relief, sorrow, and confusion crept over him. He felt sorry he had doubted Oscar, but also defensive. He paused, letting the tension between them linger.
“You still there?” asked Oscar finally.
“Yup.”
“Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t call. I didn’t realize you were hearing all this stuff, and it was getting so twisted. But I’m the one stuck at home with a couple of angry parents until the school lets me come back.”
Luke’s shoulders dropped. He felt tired. “Okay.”
“There are still things I can’t explain yet, but I will soon.”
“Like what?” asked Luke.
“Well, for one thing, I’ve got some good news. I heard the police are moving in on someone, and it’s not me. My lawyer just called and said an arrest is imminent.”
“What? Who?”
“I don’t know. But it is all happening.”
“Did your lawyer say if it was someone from campus?”
“No, all he said is that there would be an arrest. No details. Nothing else.”
An arrest. Interesting. Who? Dean Heckler? “Let me know if you find out more.”
“Sure,” said Oscar. “We still friends?”
“Always, dude,” said Luke. And he truly meant it.