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Ryan shook hands with the tall, thin man who appeared to be retirement age. “Mr. Shepard. Thank you for coming.” He recited his credentials and why he was there.
“If you’re going to ask me if I know anything about what happened to that slimy Huntley, I ain’t got nothin’ to tell, other than it was about time he got what was comin’ to him.”
That was blunt and to the point. Ryan liked interviewing this type of person. They said what they thought. “You don’t think this was an accident?”
The man studied him a minute before shaking his head. “I have my reasons to think otherwise.”
“You knew about his harassing female faculty members?”
“He didn’t stop with the women. I chased him away from a few students as well.” The man’s narrow face glowered with distaste.
“We’ve been trying to find out about the students. Did you find him bothering one in particular?” Ryan watched the man’s forehead gather more wrinkles as he tried to figure out Ryan’s questioning.
“Mostly the drama ones. Heard him tell one once that if she was nice to him, she’d have the lead in the play or he’d write her a good recommendation letter for a scholarship.” The man wiped his hands on a red rag hanging from his belt loop as if he were trying to rid his hands of the nastiness he talked about.
“Did you ever tell this to the principal?” Ryan asked.
“Every time I seen it.”
The custodian was painting an even worse picture of the principal. The man had greatly neglected his duties to his female faculty and students by burying his head in the sand.
“Did you see Mr. Huntley today?” Ryan asked.
“When he showed up this mornin’. He was in a hurry, but stopped long enough to tell me I needed to put more ice melt on the sidewalk. Like he knew my job better than me.” The man snorted.
Ryan found this a bit of a coincidence given the teacher could have slipped on the ice and fallen to his death. “Did you see him arguing with anyone today?”
“Today, yesterday, last week. The man couldn’t get along with anyone.” Mr. Shepard used the red rag to wipe his nose. “I swear, I’ve seen him arguing with every adult at this school, and some that don’t work here, at one time or another.”
The man’s last comment fueled Ryan’s curiosity. “You’ve seen parents arguing with Huntley?”
“Sure. He was a poor art and drama teacher. You ever seen any of the plays? If you look in the trophy case in the Art Quad, everything but drama and drawing has awards in there.” The custodian glanced over at Shandra. “Bet there’ll be some in there for pottery after this last quarter.”
“Thank you, Mr. Shepard. I just taught the principals of working with clay.” Shandra had found the custodian open and helpful her first couple of weeks working at the school. She liked the man and understood his dislike of the deceased teacher.
“Which parents have you seen here lately?” Ryan asked.
The man rubbed a hand over his several days growth of white whiskers, making a rasping sound. “Mr. Shaw, Mrs. Lawrence, Mr. Paulson. That was the last week. Been a few others since the first of the year.”
“Any idea what they were arguing about?” Ryan had his pen poised over his notebook.
“I was never close enough to hear, but from the look on their faces, they weren’t happy about something.” Mr. Shepard reached out tapping Ryan’s notepad. “But they all have female students at this school.”
Shandra’s insides twisted. She’d been a victim of sexual abuse and knew how hard it was to take charge and tell someone about it. If these students had gone to their parents, they weren’t victims. They had the strength to get help. She hoped all of them had. The thought Mr. Huntley had been preying on the students as well as his colleagues, brought back memories she’d thought she’d conquered. She squeezed her shaking hands together.
“Do you happen to know the names of the students?” Ryan wrote down the names as Mr. Shepard spoke.
“There was also Ms. Trainor’s boyfriend here once, looking for Mr. Huntley.” The man nodded. “I think that was a couple weeks ago.”
Shandra glanced at Ryan. Yvonne had made it sound like the harassment had happened a long time ago.
“Thank you, Mr. Shepard. If you hear or think of anything else, I’d appreciate a call.” Ryan handed the custodian one of his business cards.
“Glad the guy’s gone, but will help you find out who did it. Not good for the school having a murderer runnin’ loose.”
Mr. Shepard’s words prickled her skin. The thought there could be a murderer in this school shook her sense of security. She’d come to know all the students who took art classes and a few who didn’t. Had one of the students or faculty decided they’d had enough of Mr. Huntley? Would they snap with someone else? The thought didn’t settle her fears.
Ryan glanced at the clock on the wall. “Looks like we won’t be having dinner together tonight. I’m going to get the address of Jennifer from the kitchen and the families that Mr. Shepard mentioned. It’s best I visit them tonight before anyone can come up with alibis.”
Shandra nodded, her mind racing through the names and if she knew the female students.
“You aren’t going to ask to come along?” Ryan put a hand on her knee.
“Do you want me to?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more accusations of sexual harassment. But then, she wanted the young women to understand it wasn’t their fault. She’d make sure they each saw a counselor.
“It might make it less awkward if you were along. The parents may not want to talk to a policeman.” He pulled his phone from the holster on his belt. “I’ll have Cathleen look and see if anyone took legal action against Huntley.”
While he talked on the phone, Shandra walked out the door to the main office. Rachel’s desk was empty. She glanced at Mr. Pawner’s office. The door was closed but the glow of light lit up the frosted glass in the door.
Ryan joined her.
“Looks like you’ll have to get the information from the principal. Rachel is gone for the day.” She pointed to the empty desk and shut down computer.
Without a word, Ryan strode down the hall and rapped on the door.
“Come in,” Mr. Pawner said in a weary tone.
“I’m going to need addresses for these families.” Ryan handed the slip of paper over to the principal.
The man winced and looked up. “This is going to kill my chances of ever getting another job in education.”
Ryan shrugged.
Shandra didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him. “You should have thought about that before allowing a predator the run of the school.”
Mr. Pawner shifted his attention to his computer and pulled up a file. He wrote the names of the parents and the addresses on Ryan’s list. Handing the paper over, he said, “I’ll turn in my resignation tomorrow.”
Shandra nodded. It wouldn’t help those who had already been harassed, but it would punish the man for allowing it to happen.
Ryan handed the paper to Shandra. “I’ll be back tomorrow with more questions, and I’d like no one to use Mr. Huntley’s room until I can go through it.”
“I’ll lock it up.” Mr. Pawner stood, a key ring in his hand.
Ryan put his hand on Shandra’s back, moving her out of the office and the main doors into the darkening evening.
The piles of dirty snow around the parking lot added to her feelings of sorrow. There were more victims than the man who was killed.
“Take your Jeep to the house. I’ll pick you up there,” Ryan said, leading her to her vehicle. I have to tell the Dalforths their grandson has died.”
Shandra studied Ryan. She knew he hated this part of the job. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. This is something I need to do in a strictly professional capacity.”
“I ordered pizza this morning. I’ll pick it up and have it ready when you get home.” She would have forgotten about it, if not for the note she’d placed on her steering wheel to pick up the pizza. Of course, she was two hours later than she’d planned.
“That sounds good. It shouldn’t take me too long.” Ryan closed the door on her and headed back to his SUV parked along the sidewalk at the main entrance.
She started the Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot. The day had started with so much promise. She’d been looking forward to working on her latest pottery project this evening. Now, she didn’t have a single creative thought in her head. Only sorrow in her heart. She picked up the pizza and apologized for being late.
At Ryan’s house, she opened the door and was greeted by a big slobbery kiss from Sheba her Shetland pony sized dog. After a treat, the exuberant animal, dashed out the back door to the fenced in yard. She’d been left in the house longer than she was used to.
Shandra turned the oven on and flicked on all the lights. She needed cheer. The large painting of Huckleberry Mountain with the sun sparkling over the snow-covered slopes was a huge improvement over the dogs playing cards that Ryan had left hanging in that spot after buying the house.
Sheba barked at the back door, Shandra let her in then slid the pizza into the oven.
She returned to the couch and stared at the picture. Would this have all come out if she hadn’t offered to teach at the school? It would have eventually, but would Mr. Huntley have been killed?