After talking to Chloe, River called the high school that Chris, Jason, and Kyle had attended. She made an appointment to talk to Alan Levellie, the English teacher Jason had tormented. River was conflicted about him. For some reason, Kyle thought Levellie had inappropriate feelings toward some of the girls in the school. She didn’t know Kyle well enough to trust his instincts, yet she believed he was basically honest. His body language had shown that he was being sincere when he talked to them. Still, she couldn’t judge the teacher without knowing more. She felt strongly that if she could talk to him, she might be able to see something that would give her an idea as to who the man really was. If she felt strongly that Chris was right, she’d take some kind of action. The idea that a school would turn a blind eye to a teacher molesting children in any way made her furious.
When they reached the high school, they parked near the front door in the visitor’s spot. Once inside, they found the main office. River couldn’t help but stare at some of the kids walking past them. Torn jeans and wild hair colors were the trend now. Children trying to find their identity yet afraid to stand out too much. Of course, it wasn’t any different when she was in high school.
They opened the door to the office and walked inside. To River’s right was a row of chairs. Two kids sat there. A boy and a girl, an empty chair between them. They were trying hard to ignore each other and pretend they didn’t care that they’d been called to the principal’s office. But she was certain that they did care. Their body language betrayed them. The girl’s crossed arms and the way the boy swung his leg back and forth. It was a way to pacify himself. River remembered being in the same spot they were in now. She wanted to tell them that everything would be okay. That they had an entire life ahead of them. River remembered believing that whoever you were in high school was who you would be for the rest of your life. Absolutely false. Once you graduated, the whole world changed. You could become anyone you wanted to be. Life was in front of you. High school didn’t matter anymore. River’s dream to join the FBI had seemed impossible when she was a teenager, but it came true. She wanted to grab those two kids and say, “This isn’t your life. No matter what happens. Whether you have friends or whether you don’t. The unpopular kids will one day sit behind a desk and interview the popular kids for jobs they’re not qualified for. It will all change. I promise.”
“River, are you with me?” Tony asked quietly.
She turned her head to look up at him. “Yeah, sorry. This place brings back memories.”
“Me too. I can’t wait to get out of here.”
A rather severe-looking woman walked up to the counter where they stood. “May I help you?”
“We’re here to see Mr. Levellie,” River said. “I’m River Ryland, and this is Tony St. Clair.”
“Oh, yes. He’s waiting for you. Follow me.”
She walked around the counter and out the office door. As they left, River looked over at the two kids and smiled. They ignored her, of course. To be expected.
She and Tony followed the woman past several rooms to one at the end of the hall. She knocked on the door, and a male voice said, “Come in.”
When they entered the empty classroom, they found a man probably in his late fifties or early sixties. He was working hard to cover the fact that he was going bald. His comb-over only made it worse. Mr. Levellie stood up from behind the desk at the front of the room and held out his hand. Tony shook it, but River turned and walked over to one of the student’s desks facing his. She slid into it while Tony came over and stood next to her. Mr. Levellie sat down again.
“You wanted to talk to me about Chris Stover?” Levellie said. “Has he been found?”
River watched the man carefully. He seemed really concerned. No signs of fear or trepidation. This man didn’t appear to have anything to do with Chris’s disappearance.
“No, he hasn’t,” she said. “But we’re trying to find out what happened to him. We wondered if you might have any information that could help us.”
Levellie’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you think I’d know something? I mean, he was in my class, but we had no relationship outside of that.”
“Your name was given to us by another student,” Tony said. “He told us you and Chris might have some history.”
“History?” Levellie shrugged. “I’m sorry, but you’ve been misinformed. Trust me, if I knew anything about Chris’s disappearance, I would tell you. He was a good student and a nice young man. I liked him.”
River got to her feet. “I’m sure you’re right. Maybe we have the wrong name. It seems Chris was concerned about a teacher in this school who was being inappropriate with female students. But I’m sure that wasn’t you, was it?”
The teacher’s face turned red, and his features tightened. “Of course not. You really did get the wrong information.”
He moved his chair back, trying to distance himself. This slimeball was as guilty as sin. Chris had been right.
“Do you know anything about a couple of teachers that were at the concert the night Chris disappeared?” Tony asked. “Bonnie Kershaw and Sherman Hadley?”
“Mr. Hadley passed away some time ago. Miss Kershaw still teaches here. If you want to know anything about her, I would suggest you talk to her yourself.” He stood up. “If you’re finished . . .”
“Yeah, we’re finished,” River said. And hopefully, you are too.
She and Tony walked out of the classroom. As they headed back down the hall, River said, “I want to talk to the principal for a moment.”
“Hold on, I saw the same thing you did, but we don’t have any proof.”
“I know that, and I’m not going to accuse him. You know I don’t believe in that. I’m just going to ask the principal to keep an eye on him and let him know that Chris had some suspicions. We’ll leave it in his hands. Sometimes several bricks have to crack before a wall falls.”
“You just now thought of that metaphor, didn’t you?”
River smiled. “Yeah, could we just forget it?”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
Tony laughed.
When they got back to the main office, River told the woman who’d helped them before that she wanted to talk to the principal. She’d noticed that one of the kids who’d been waiting earlier was missing. Either he’d been sent back to class or he was in the principal’s office right now.
“I’m sorry, but he’s busy,” the woman said, one eyebrow raised to show her disdain. Clearly, she didn’t feel River or Tony were important enough to be granted an audience with the principal. “You can make an appointment.”
River glanced back at the girl who was waiting for her visit with the principal and winked. The girl’s eyes widened with surprise.
River leaned over the counter to get closer to the imperious woman holding court in the office of a second-rate high school as if she were Judge Judy.
“That’s fine, Margaret,” River whispered, reading the woman’s name tag. “But if he doesn’t see me, I’m going to the local news stations and telling them about all the complaints about sexual harassment lodged against one of your teachers. So it’s your choice. Do you let me see him now, or do you get fired for not allowing me to take this to the principal?”
Margaret’s quick intake of breath was all it took for River’s hunch to be confirmed. She stepped back and met Margaret’s eyes. She saw the fear there. This woman knew the truth. River took a deep breath, trying to hold back the anger that she felt. How could these people work with children and not act when a teacher was accused of sexual harassment?
“I’ll see if he’s available,” Margaret choked out. She scurried toward the back of the room and knocked on a closed door. Then she opened it and stepped inside. A few seconds later, the door opened again, and the young man River had seen earlier hurried out. As he walked past them, he shot River a confused look. She smiled at him as he made his escape back to the chair he’d sat in before.
A moment after that, Margaret came out and hurried up toward the counter. She gestured toward a wooden gate at the end. The special entrance that only special people were allowed through. Or kids in trouble.
They followed Margaret into the office she’d just come out of. The man standing behind the desk looked like a prisoner hoping for amnesty. River wanted to feel compassion for him. Watching over thousands of young people and a staff of teachers would be enough to send anyone off a ledge. But right now the only thing River felt was rage. This man . . . this school . . . had obviously hidden a problem. Young women had been harassed, and the powers that be had looked the other way. There was no excuse for that.
“I’m Principal Peachman. What can I do for you?”
River’s anger softened momentarily as she squelched a sudden desire to laugh. The man looked like a peach. Seriously. He had a round peach-colored face with fuzz on his head and face. What an unfortunate name. But right now, being amused by this man’s appearance wasn’t appropriate. There was something important she needed to do.
“Mr. Peachman, my name is River Ryland. This is my partner, Tony St. Clair. We’re private detectives. We’re working a case that involves Chris Stover. Do you know who he is?”
Peachman frowned. “Of course I do. He’s the young man who disappeared four years ago. Have you found him?”
“No,” Tony said. “We came here to talk to Mr. Levellie to see if he had any information that could help us. He didn’t. We’d also like to talk to Bonnie Kershaw. She was at the concert the night Chris disappeared.”
“I doubt they know anything they haven’t told the police,” Peachman said. He pursed his lips and studied them for a moment. “Why did you want to talk to me? You can set up an appointed to meet with Miss Kershaw through our receptionist.”
“We can do that,” River said. “But first we want you to do something about Mr. Levellie.”
Peachman’s fuzzy eyebrows shot up, and his face became an even deeper peach color. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” River said. She knew her tone was disrespectful, but she didn’t care. Her training made it clear that this man knew about Levellie and hadn’t done anything about it. She was fully aware that she was taking a chance and that Tony might not be in agreement with her actions, but if she was right, she couldn’t just walk away from the situation without trying to do something. “Chris was documenting several incidents in which Mr. Levellie made inappropriate comments to some of your female students.” She watched his expression and was rewarded with a furtive glance to the left. He was remembering. She decided to push him further. “And what about that one incident? The one you clearly should have investigated? I’m sure you don’t want that released to the public. If you don’t deal with this, our next step will be to go to the police . . . and the media.”
She watched as his peach complexion turned reddish-orange.
Bingo.