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It was the day before Thanksgiving. Outside, it was cold, and snow was spitting lightly down from the dark clouds above. I came downstairs, my stomach already knotted with nerves, and I sat at the breakfast table in front of the plate of bacon, fried eggs, and toast my mother had placed in my usual spot. I picked at it absently, with my mind elsewhere.
“Are you getting up early with me tomorrow?” my mother asked from her place at the opposite side of the table. “I’ll need your help cooking. Everyone loves your apple pie.”
“Yeah, of course.” I could hear the nervousness over today’s mission in my voice and hoped my mother hadn’t picked up on it as well.
“We’ll turn the parade on. Watch together as we cook. Our Thanksgiving tradition.”
“I can’t wait,” I mumbled, poking my fork into the yolk of an egg. It popped with an unceremonious squelch and spread across one side of my plate.
“Well, try to control your enthusiasm,” Mom said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted. You know I love cooking Thanksgiving dinner with you. Are Mamaw and Pop-Pop coming?”
“No, honey,” she said sorrowfully. “They’re still settling into their condo in Miami. They’re a little worn out after all that moving. But they did say they were coming to stay for Christmas.”
“Grandpa and Beth?” My grandmother on Dad’s side had passed away when I was still a toddler. Grandpa remarried a sweet old woman who smoked like a chimney and enjoyed collecting old vinyl records.
“No. They’re going to your Aunt Lil’s in Buffalo. It’s their turn.”
“Well, who is coming?” I was a little disappointed there’d be zero grandparents at this get-together.
“It’ll just be the three of us this year,” Mom sighed. “Then, an idea seemed to occur to her. “Would you like to invite Gwen and Jason?”
“That would be okay?” I was suddenly excited.
“Of course. Invite Jason’s father as well. I know it’ll be a difficult day for them. Maybe we can help them attain at least a fraction of normalcy. Besides, we’re going to have a ton of food.”
“Great. Yeah, I’ll ask them.” I left the house with my bag over my shoulder and was in a slightly better mood after the conversation with my mom. Gwen most likely had plans with her family for Thanksgiving, but I was hopeful Jason and his dad would be able to come by.
Gwen came shambling down the sidewalk toward me like a zombie on the search for brains. “I got very little sleep last night.”
“I was up pretty late myself,” I replied. “My nerves are totally frayed.”
“Same.” She shivered a little, maybe because of the weather or the thought of what was coming.
Soon Jason pulled up to the curb and saved us from the biting wind and spitting snowflakes. As we pulled away, I spoke to them about Thanksgiving in an attempt to take our minds off the coming mission. “So, if you guys don’t have any other plans, you’re both invited to my house for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow. Your parents too.”
“We’re all going to my grandparent’s house,” Gwen sighed. “But I can come by afterward.”
“Good. Jason? Do you think your dad would feel like coming?”
“Maybe. I’ll ask him. None of my family is getting together this year. I think it’s because of my mom’s death. But I think it would be good for him to be around people. First Thanksgiving without her after all.”
I wanted to hug him right then. I knew he was putting on a brave front, but his grief over his mother was just below the surface, eating at him. I didn’t know what else to say. The rest of the ride to school was spent in silence.
We parked in the lot behind the gym, and Jason killed the engine. Gwen and I started to get out of the car when Jason stopped us. “Wait.”
I turned back to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Look, I’ve been worried all week about what you’re going to do today. I know you already promised me once, but I need to hear it again. Please, be careful and get out of there at the slightest sign of danger.”
“I will. I promise.” I felt touched by his concern and smiled warmly at him.
“And we’ll be in constant contact,” Gwen added. “If anything seems off, I won’t hesitate to call the cops.”
“You guys...” I grumbled, a little bit irritated, but I also understood their concern. “It’ll be okay. If Fender is our guy, like I said before, he’s not likely to do anything on school grounds. Now, if he catches me snooping around, we should worry about retaliation afterward.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Jason exhaled.
I looked at each of them sternly. “We have to do this.”
“I know,” he grumbled. “But for the record, I don’t like it.”
“Noted. Now, let’s get going before the final bell rings.” And with that, we exited the car and went our separate ways.
The school day started the same as always, besides the noticeable buzz among the students surrounding a four-day weekend. Everyone was a little excited. Louder than usual. Even the teachers approached each class with quiet nonchalance.
Halfway into the first period, one of the school counselors came over the PA system and paged the volunteers for the elementary school trip. I shoved my phone into my pocket, slung my bag over my shoulder, and left the class.
Inside the office, I was immediately directed outside, where a bus waited. I climbed aboard and was surprised to find around twenty other students waiting, with more coming behind me. This was a bigger operation than I’d realized, which was a good thing. More students meant sneaking away should be a little easier.
My stomach churned; my nerves were on edge. I rested my head against the cold window and stared blankly at the passing cars. It was a short ride to the elementary school, and I found myself wishing it would have been a little longer. The other students stood and shuffled down the narrow aisle to the open bus door. I stood after everyone had passed and followed them off the bus.
I was the type of girl that went largely unnoticed at school. At least, that was the case up until I solved the murder at the ski lodge. After that, everyone seemed to know my name. Rather than praise, I was further shunned and kept to myself for the most part, and eventually, my status as an overlooked bookworm was restored. Mostly. So, it was no surprise the group of classmates I was with now avoided eye contact and talked amongst themselves. This was just another advantage. When I would go missing from the group, no one would notice I was gone.
The teacher who ushered us in was Mr. Wailing. He was a tall, gangly man with a burr haircut and giant feet. He somehow always had a coffee stain on the front of his shirt. I wondered how he was able to get away and lead this little field trip, but then I remembered he had a TA who often took over for him.
The front door opened to a vestibule with a door to the offices on the right and another set of doors that led to the main hallway straight ahead. We went straight after Mr. Wailing waved to the assistant at the front desk, and she hit a button to release the lock on the second set of doors. As we walked and the others talked amongst themselves, I spied the door leading to the basement, exactly where Gwen said it would be.
I looked at the group, wondering if I could get away from them now without any of them realizing it, but I was stuck when Mr. Wailing turned to talk to us as he walked down the hall backward.
“Just remember, we’re going to hang out with the kids for a bit, do a little Thanksgiving art project, and show them how nice high school kids can be. So go in there and make some kids happy. Be positive role models.”
We all nodded, and he turned back as we took a corner to the right where the hall came to a T intersection. It was here I saw my chance. I fell to the back of the line and stopped as the last of my fellow students turned the corner. I looked back down the hall behind me to make sure it was all clear, then quickly moved back the way we’d come to the basement door. Here, I stopped and pulled my phone from my pocket to text Gwen and Jason, I snuck away from the group. Entering the basement now.
Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I quietly turned the knob on the door and slid inside. There was a landing at the top of the stairs and a staircase directly to the right. It was dark just inside the door, but a dim light from below illuminated my way to the basement floor. For a moment, I only listened. Before snooping around the janitor’s work area, I had to make sure he wasn’t down there. The silence stretched on, only broken when the furnace came to life. On wobbly knees, I slowly descended the stairs.
Two-thirds of the way down, the rest of the basement came into view. It was grimy and poorly lit. A lone, naked light bulb with a pull string hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. Metal shelving lined the wall to the left. These held various cleaning materials—bleach, glass cleaner, mop heads, and bottles of green liquid, which were no doubt some sort of industrial cleaner.
Next to the shelves was a cart similar to those I’d seen before in hotels while vacationing with my parents. A trashcan was in the back, and paper towels, plus cleaning tools, covered the rest of it. I wondered how Fender got it out of the basement when he used it. Surely, he didn’t lug it up the stairs on a daily basis.
There was a desk in the center of the room. It was old and made of metal, with a heavy wooden surface. Most likely the remanence of a long-gone decade before the teachers upgraded to more modern furnishings in their classrooms. There was a sleek, new desktop computer on the top that looked out of place on the old relic. The Netflix screensaver that flashed on the screen told me Fender was just here, and his computer was currently unlocked. I sat in the old, beat-up office chair and moved the mouse.
There was a clank from the far corner of the room, and I jumped in the seat. My heart raced. I leaned over in the chair and looked around the side of a support beam. There, in the corner, was a small mouse running along the base of the wall. It disappeared through a small crack, and I exhaled the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Back to the screen, where I found the janitor had been watching The Ranch, I collapsed the window and immediately found my first clue. The wallpaper on the desktop screen was a smiling image of Mrs. Kenilworth. I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo, then sent it to Jason and Gwen.
From there, I searched through the folders on the computer and found one marked Shannon. Opening the folder, I found twelve more photos of our murder victim in various poses. All of them were snapped in and around the school, though it seemed she was never aware her picture was being taken. I took more photos with my phone and sent them to my friends, ignoring their responses for the time being.
I closed the folder and opened the web browser. There wasn’t much to see here. Sites where Fender re-ordered his supplies, Amazon pages that mostly led to fishing equipment, and a website where comic books were sold. There was no sign of social media. It was no wonder Gwen couldn’t find anything on the guy.
There was a loud bang and a screeching sound from the back of the room. I moved the chair on its wheels over to the left and looked for the source of the sound, hopeful it was just another mouse. Then, it dawned on me how Fender got his cleaning cart to the top floor. It was a freight elevator.
Panic set in. I hurried to return the laptop to the page where I’d found it and then stood to run back toward the exit, only to trip over my own feet and fall to the floor.
“Hey,” I heard the janitor shout. He’d seen me. I quickly got to my feet and ran for the stairs. The gate on the freight elevator banged open behind me, and the janitor’s footsteps followed. I ran up the stairs and through the door.
Back in the hall, I made my way to the corner where I’d left the group and stopped. I had no idea which classroom they were in. I should have at least stayed with them until we made it to the room.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself. I heard the basement door open behind me and knew I had no choice but to run. If I could at least find a place to hide, I could figure out where to go once I lost Fender.
The hallway was short and led to a left turn and another hall where there was nothing but closed classroom doors. I started down, looking in each window for my classmates but finding only small children going about their business with no idea I was on the run from a murderer.
Glancing behind me, I saw no sign of Fender and continued on, hopeful that I’d lost him. Room after room, there was still no luck finding my group. When I came to a classroom that appeared empty and dark, I tried the door and found it was locked. It would have at least offered a hiding place.
I continued on, and around the next corner to the left, I ran into the hulking frame of Bob Fender. I fell back on my butt and looked up at him as he loomed over me. While crab-walking away from him, a helpless fear coiled around my mind like barbed wire around a fence post. I got to my feet to run just as the janitor lunged for me. His huge hand wrapped around my arm and sent pain jolting up my shoulder.
“Come on, girl,” Fender growled. “I’ll show you what happens to people who go snooping around where they ain’t got no business snooping.”
He pulled me back down the hall the way I’d come. “Let go of me,” I shouted, hoping someone would come to my aid.
“Darn, school ain’t nothing but a square, ya know,” the janitor pointed out. “All I had to do was go around the other way. You ran right into me.” He laughed, proud of his ingenuity. “You ain’t so smart.”
“Let go,” I pleaded. “I just got lost. I was separated from my group and didn’t know where to go.”
“Too bad for you, girly.”
We came down the main hall, and I knew then he was taking me back to the basement. He was going to kill me. At least Gwen and Jason knew where I was. They would call the police. My body would be found, and so would the evidence on Fender’s laptop. He would go away for two homicides.
As we approached the door, I breathed in deeply, prepared to scream as loud as I could and draw attention to the man and his murderous intent. But before I could scream, we passed the basement door, and he took me directly to the front office.
Inside, the woman at the front desk looked up in confusion. “What’s this?”
“I need to see the principal right away,” Fender’s voice boomed.
“All right. Have a seat. I’ll get him.” The lady left without showing any emotion.
Fender turned to me. “Sit.”
I did as he said, and he sat down in the chair next to me. For a while, we were quiet, but finally, I turned to him and spoke in a soft voice, “I apologize.”
He said nothing. Only sat there, breathing hard. Clearly still angry at the invasion of his privacy.
I decided I’d lay it all out for him. “Look, I’m working with Jason Kenilworth. We’re investigating his mom’s death. The fact that you set up an interview with us and then canceled shot you to the top of our suspect list. Plus, with your recent history with her, you come out looking very bad here. I was in the basement looking for evidence that would prove your guilt.”
I stopped talking and waited for his reaction. For a moment, he only stared forward, but his breathing seemed to slow. Then he turned to me, voice full of emotion, and said, “I loved her.”
Rather than press him with accusations, I waited for him to continue.
“I would never do anything to hurt her. It was wrong, I know. She was happily married. But I can’t help what my heart feels. I canceled the interview because...” He started to cry as he spoke, “It’s hard to talk about her.”
It was a development I did not see coming. Was this big man really just a guy in love, heartbroken by the death of a woman he knew he could never have? Hesitantly, I reached out and patted his arm in an effort to comfort him.
“Mr. Fender,” called the principal as he entered the room. Fender quickly wiped his eyes and stood. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Um, sir,” Fender said, glancing back at me, “this young lady was separated from her group. I just needed to find out what classroom the rest of the high school kids are visiting.”
The principal looked confused. “That hardly seems like something that needs my attention.”
“Yes, sir. I guess it doesn’t.” Fender looked at him sheepishly.
The principal instructed his assistant to look up the room number and returned to his office. Once we knew where we were going, Fender led me out into the hall, and we walked back toward the fork.
“Thanks for not turning me in,” I said as we walked.
“It’s fine. If someone really did kill Mrs. Kenilworth, I want them to be found. They need to go to prison.” He clenched his fist and grounded his teeth.
“Mr. Fender, do you have any idea who might have killed her?” I started seeing the best opportunity to interview him.
“No. Of course, I tend to keep to myself around here. I don’t like most people. And most people try and avoid me unless they need something cleaned. Shannon, though, was the only one who showed me any kindness. Treated me with respect. Everyone else treats me like a dog. Hell, worse.”
I suddenly felt awful for assuming the worst of this man. And I’d done so based on the narrow-minded assumption of others. “Have you filed a complaint?”
“Nah,” he said with a dismissive wave of one large hand. “I don’t like to cause trouble.”
“Can you think of anything strange that may have happened? Maybe a month or so before her death?”
He shook his head. “No. I would have noticed. I always kept an eye out for her. Even when that fella lost his temper about his kid, it was me that got him out of the building and calmed him down.”
“Really?” This bit of information took me by surprise. “I heard about the meeting, but no one told me you were there.”
“Yeah. That’s the way it goes. People tend to leave me out. It’s not that they don’t notice me; they just prefer to not acknowledge I’m around. I’ve heard all the rumors that go around about me. I’m mentally challenged, have a violent past, and am a product of inbreeding. None of that stuff is true. Hell, I wouldn’t be able to get a job in a school if even half that stuff was true.”
“I guess you’re right,” I agreed. “But you were committed to a mental hospital when you were younger.” I felt odd talking about it, but it was part of the procedure.
He didn’t seem surprised that I knew this. “That was my maw’s doing. Pop ran out on us when I was only ten. I acted out. Done some things that I shouldn’t have. Got to a point she just couldn’t handle me on her own. Had me locked in there when I got older. It was only supposed to be for a little while. So she could have a break. I think she knew one of the doctors there. They may have had a thing going. After I got out, I took off. Never talked to her again. Got a job at a warehouse and slept outside until I found my own place. Then got this job and moved up here.”
We rounded the corner down the long hallway. “What about Mr. Hernandez? Did Mrs. Kenilworth have any trouble with him that you remember?”
“Not that I ever saw. They actually seemed like they got along well.”
“Did you ever hear any rumors about him? Maybe from Mrs. Kenilworth.”
An odd look of embarrassment came over his face. “No. I’m not in on all the gossip that goes on around here. Like I said, I tend to keep to myself.”
I approached the next question with care. “And the photos on your computer?”
A melancholy smile spread across the janitor’s face. “I guess you could say I was a bit obsessed. I just thought she was a beautiful person. Not just physically but in every way. If more people were like her, maybe I wouldn’t be the way I am. She made me feel comfortable, you know. I’m not stupid. I know she didn’t have romantic feelings for me. I know she was married. Loneliness has a way of eating at a person. So much so that you tend to look past the impossibilities when someone shows you a little attention. Hope can be a devastating thing when you realize it’s all lost.” Fender stopped in front of a classroom.
“I guess this is it,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“One more question, Mr. Fender.”
“Okay.” He really did seem to want to help.
“Do you remember where you were the night Mrs. Kenilworth died?”
He gave it some thought, then said, “I was home. I watched the game that night. Eagles vs. Cowboys.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?”
“Afraid not.”
“Okay. Thanks for talking to me. And thanks for not turning me in.” I smiled at him gratefully. It would have been the end of all this if he had turned me over to the principal.
The janitor nodded. “Find whoever did this. Help put them away.”
“I’m going to do the best I can,” I assured him.
Fender walked away, and I slipped into the classroom without being noticed.
***
By the time I made it back to the bus, I found my phone had blown up. Tons of text messages from both Gwen and Jason. I texted them through the group thread, I’m fine. Leaving now. I’ll tell you everything later.
Later, as it turned out, was the ride home. Weights were canceled for the holiday weekend, so Jason was able to give us a ride. As we drove, I went over everything that happened and everything Bob Fender told me.
“Wow,” Jason gasped. “So, what do you think?”
I paused a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, despite not having a solid alibi, I don’t think Fender is our guy. There was nothing about my conversation with him that seemed insincere. That doesn’t mean he falls off our suspect list. He could just be an extremely gifted liar. But it does move him behind Hernandez and his mistress.”
“So, what’s our next move?” Jason wanted to know.
“Let’s see if we can set up an interview with the teacher Hernandez is having an affair with. Maybe Friday or Saturday,” I replied. Then, I gave Jason a sideways glance. “Also, Jason, we need to talk to your dad. I know it’s going to be awkward, and he’s most likely going to be angry with us, but he may have the answer about what was going on with your mom that no one else can offer.”
Jason nodded his understanding. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. After Thanksgiving.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “We’ll take a day off for the holiday.”
“Speaking of which,” Jason went on. “Dad has agreed to come have dinner with your family.”
My mood suddenly brightened substantially. “That’s awesome!”
Jason smiled at my excitement. “Yeah, I told him it would do him some good to be around people, and he agreed. Eventually.”
“Well, his reluctance is understandable.” And it was. How do you face a family holiday after losing such an important part of your family?
Gwen gave a frustrated groan. “I wish I could spend the day at your house tomorrow. I love my grandparents, but my cousins are total dirtbags. So annoying.”
“I wish you could, too,” I lied, looking out the window. In truth, I was excited to get some time alone with Jason.