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On the other side of town was a small community of doubles that boasted immaculately kept lawns, a beautiful swimming pool, and a set of tennis courts that looked as though they could host matches between professionals. Each unit had a garage that jutted out further than the deep-set front door.
Jason pulled into the driveway of the unit that belonged to Javier Hernandez and parked next to a blue Ford Fusion. We admired the surroundings for a moment and exited the car to walk around the garage and knock on the front door.
“How is Mr. Hernandez connected to your mother again?” I asked Jason as we waited for the door to open.
“He’s in his first year of teaching, and my mom helped him get acclimated,” Jason replied. “She wasn’t a mentor to him the way Mrs. Davis was a mentor to her, and that may be because he teaches sixth grade, but she steered him in the right direction in a lot of ways, I guess. I just gathered this from the emails they exchanged. His classroom was just down the hall from hers.”
The door opened, and the man on the other side peered out at us with deep, brown eyes. He had the looks of a movie star—handsome, with a fade haircut topped with large, dark curls. He had a thin beard that was neatly trimmed, and his tight-fitted shirt showed off his well-defined arms, chest, and stomach. He could have been a male model if he had been taller than five foot eight. It was instantly clear that he was not the taller brooding man from the video.
“You must be Shannon’s son,” Hernandez said, shaking Jason’s hand solemnly. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Jason answered simply, shaking the man’s hand with some reluctance.
“And thank you for meeting with us.” I offered, shaking his hand in turn. “I’m Holly, and this is our friend Gwen.”
Mr. Hernandez gave an understanding smile and greeted us. “Nice to meet you all. Please, come in. Make yourselves at home. Mi casa es su casa, as the saying goes.” He stepped aside, inviting us in.
Inside, the place was far bigger than it seemed on the surface. The garage was the first thing I noticed when we pulled in, simply because it stuck out so far from the living area. This design hid the enormous area beyond. The large front room held all the usual standards (sofa, chairs, television, end tables), yet, it was all decorated in a Mexican theme, with pottery and wall hangings that revealed the teacher’s pride in his homeland. To the right, behind the door that most likely led to the garage, there was a staircase to a second floor, its walls also lined with paintings and wall hangings. And beyond the living room was an open, vast kitchen with gleaming silver appliances.
“How do you afford all this on a teacher’s salary?” Gwen blurted, verbalizing what we were all thinking. Subtlety had never been her strong suit.
“You marry well,” Mr. Hernandez said with a chuckle. “My wife is an orthodontist with a very successful practice. Believe it or not, she has designs on a much larger house. She never liked the idea of living in a condo.”
I sat down on the left side of the sofa, and Jason sat at the other end, with Gwen between us. I felt a little disappointed at that.
“Can I get you guys anything?” Mr. Hernandez proposed. “Coffee or bottled water?”
We all accepted the offer of bottled water, and our host rushed off to the kitchen. He returned with three bottles and passed them to us one at a time.
“Thank you,” I said, taking the water from him. “We appreciate you meeting us on such short notice.”
“Of course. I was surprised by Jason’s email, but when I heard what you were up to, I was eager to help.”
“You heard?” That was surprising. I supposed then what they said was true—nothing stays hidden in small towns. Or at least small communities tied together by the same school district.
Mr. Hernandez smiled. “News travels fast in this town. Especially when you start with one of the biggest gossips around.”
“Mrs. Saunders.” It was a statement more than a question.
“Oh yeah,” Hernandez went on. “It’s her favorite pastime. I’m pretty sure if she could figure out a way to get paid for it, she’d leave her teaching career behind.”
I shared an uncomfortable look with Jason and Gwen and knew we all thought the same thing. It was only a matter of time before our parents discovered what we were up to. So, before that happened, I wanted to gather as much information as possible. I pushed past this realization, pulled my pad and pen out, and asked my first question.
“Mr. Hernandez, I know you didn’t interact with Mrs. Kenilworth as much as some teachers, though she did help you along a little when you first arrived at the school. Can you recall any odd behavior from her before she died?”
“No,” he said with a shrug. “We passed each other every day in the cafeteria between lunch periods. Exchanged pleasantries. She seemed the same as ever.”
“What about earlier than that?” I asked. “Maybe a month before her death.”
Mr. Hernandez seemed to think back. “There were a couple of days. Beginning of October, maybe late September. She seemed distant. Concerned about something. I asked her if everything was okay, and she smiled and said, ‘fine’. But I could tell something was going on. Something she wasn’t comfortable enough to talk to me about.”
It must have been about the time she recorded the man watching her house. “What about the rumor mill? Did you hear any kind of gossip that may have led to someone getting angry with her? Anything that would have been scandalous? Reputation ruining?”
I noticed the teacher’s expression falter. It was only for a moment, then his eager-to-help smile returned, and he said, “No. Of course, I’m not one to gossip. I try to steer clear of all that.”
“I understand,” I said, pressing the subject. “Still, you hear things. Much like you heard what we’re up to. Are you certain there was nothing going around that could have garnered the attention of a killer?”
Mr. Hernandez shrugged. “Nothing at all. Sorry.”
He was lying. I could see it in his eyes... in his mannerisms. So, I continued, “We’ve heard there was some issue with the janitor, Mr. Fender. What can you tell us about him?”
“Oh, he’s a strange one,” Hernandez answered, clearly relieved by the change in topic. “Big, brooding. Intimidating really. Since I’ve been there, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak. He just goes about his duties, you know. I heard he had romantic feelings for Shannon at one time, and when she shot him down, he wasn’t the same afterward.”
“Does he seem like the violent type?” I pressed.
“I mean, I don’t know the guy, and you should never judge a book by its cover, right? But since he doesn’t talk, the cover is all I got to go by, and he definitely seems like the violent type. I just get a bad vibe from him.”
“All right.” I jotted this down, even though ‘a bad vibe’ was very little to go on. Sometimes, people can come off as intimidating with just their size or their expression. Oftentimes, they turn out to be great big sweethearts once you get to know them. Still, Bob Fender had to remain at the top of our suspect list. Until we could eliminate him, he was the best we had. “Last question, Mr. Hernandez. Can you tell us where you were the evening Shannon Kenilworth died?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” he answered. “I was home with my wife. Every Sunday, we stay in for a movie night. We had dinner and sat together on that sofa, cuddled up with a movie. I remember hearing the news. I received a text from Vice Principal Swan. I was shocked, to say the least.” There was nothing more to ask him, and he wouldn’t tell what he was hiding.
“Thank you for your time,” I said, rising. Jason and Gwen stood as well. “We’ll get out of your hair.”
“Please, this was no trouble at all. I only hope I was able to help.”
“Time will tell.”
We stepped outside to find the drizzling rain was back. Once we were in the 4 Runner, it was Gwen who spoke first. “Oh my God! He was so hot. They didn’t have teachers like that when I was in sixth grade.
Turning in my seat, I rolled my eyes. “Focus, Gwen. Did you catch that? He’s hiding something. When I asked him about any possible rumors that could have been going around that would push someone’s buttons, he hesitated. It was minute, but his face went slightly slack. Something came to him, but he wasn’t willing to tell us what.”
Jason shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. “Yeah, but he’s clearly not the guy in the video. Mr. Hernandez is way too short.”
“True. He also has a fairly solid alibi, even though it’s not unheard of for spouses to cover for each other. The only explanation for that is a hired gun. If Hernandez was involved, he hired someone to pull this off.”
“That would mean we’re going after a professional killer,” Gwen pointed out with clear panic setting into her voice.
“Not necessarily. It could be a friend of his. Someone loyal enough or desperate enough for a large payday that he would do something like this. If only we had access to Hernandez’s financials. A large sum payout could point to our killer.”
“I don’t suppose either of you are skilled hackers?” Jason asked, one eyebrow raised.
“No.” I shook my head.
“I can barely navigate Netflix,” Gwen admitted. And we all laughed for the first time since we’d started the case.
I went through my notes. “The good thing is we now have a prime suspect as well as a secondary suspect who, if nothing else, is guilty of hiding something.”
“But hiding what?” Gwen inquired.
“Saunder’s did mention a rumor about him with another teacher,” Jason pointed out. “An affair. Maybe he didn’t want to make himself look guilty.”
“That’s a good possibility,” I agreed.
“What’s our next move?” asked Jason.
“Well, we only have three days of school this week,” I replied, “then Thanksgiving on Thursday. That gives us a three-day weekend to set up more interviews. In the meantime, we need to dig up as much dirt as we can on Fender and Hernandez.”
“I’ve gone through social media looking for Fender,” Gwen revealed. “So far, I haven’t been able to find him. Of course, from what we’ve found out so far, he doesn’t seem the type to put himself out there like that. It’s going to be difficult to find anything online if there’s no online presence.”
“True.” Jason added, “He may not want anyone digging up his history.”
“One thing we can be sure of,” I said, staring out of the window at the houses as they blurred by. “Whatever your mom was into those few days before she died was not school related. The other teachers we talked to knew nothing about that. There was something else keeping her out late. If we find out what that is, it could lead us to the killer.”
“What about Mr. Hernandez?” Jason asked doubtfully.
“Gwen and I will dig up what we can online. But, since we don’t have access to his personal email or financial statements, we do the next best thing.”
“Which is?” Jason and Gwen asked in unison.
I turned to them. “Tail him.”
“We’re going to follow this guy around in our spare time?” Jason asked with doubt.
“No, Jason. Gwen and I don’t drive. You have to follow this guy around in your spare time.”
Jason let out a sigh and grunted sarcastically, “Great.”