The Bitterest Pill

Seventy-one

After Lundquist left, Jesse headed to the high school in a cruiser. What he had to tell Virginia Wester was not the type of thing you did over the phone if it could be avoided. Although telling Wester he had to investigate every female teacher in her school was tough, it was nowhere near as difficult to do as a next-of-kin notification. That was the worst thing to do over the phone, and he had been forced to do it more than once, both in L.A. and in Paradise. The hardest call he had ever had to make was several years back, when a college freshman from California had been murdered in the Salter mansion up on the Bluffs. That call to the girl’s parents would haunt Jesse.

When Jesse entered the high school, he drew stares and sideways glances. Heather Mackey’s death was one thing, but the drug locker display, and now Petra North’s OD... There was a cloud that had settled over the school, a veil of guilt and suspicion. It hung in the air in the hallways and classrooms so that even the innocent and naïve were touched by it.

As he climbed the stairs, Brandy Lawton came down.

“Hi, Jesse.”

“Brandy.”

“On the way to see Virginia?”

He nodded.

“How is Petra North?”

“You’ve heard?”

“Everybody’s heard. How is she?”

“Alive,” Jesse said, being purposely vague. If he was going to interview these people, he wanted them as uninformed and on edge as possible.

“That’s something, at least. Was it like Heather? I mean... you know.”

“I’ve got to go, Brandy. Excuse me.”

But as he tried to move past her, she asked if he would be willing to do his talk to the softball team again this spring. He agreed more out of expediency than a desire to give a motivational talk. He had never found those talks very helpful during his baseball career. Then again, Jesse was old-school and thought a kick in the ass often worked better than talk.

Just as Brandy Lawton had asked about Petra, so, too, did Freda and Principal Wester. He was a little less vague with these two women than he had been with Lawton.

“She’s in a coma,” he said. “There is brain activity and there’s a chance she will recover, but I’d prefer it if you would not share that information with the faculty.”

Principal Wester didn’t like that. “And why wouldn’t I share that with my people? They are all concerned about Petra’s recovery.”

“Most, not all.”

“What?”

“Virginia, it’s my belief that one of your teachers tried to kill Petra. That’s why I’m here.”

“To make an arrest?”

“No, to tell you that I need to set up interviews with all your female faculty members and employees. We’ll talk to everyone, from the teachers to the lunch ladies and the bus drivers.”

“Jesse, I’ve bent over backward for you, but you’re going to have to give me something more than your word on this, and I will have to alert the school board.”

Before Jesse could answer, his cell vibrated. The screen said the call was from Lundquist, but he declined the call and let it go to voicemail.

“What I tell you, I say in the strictest confidence. Do you agree not to share this and to keep the students’ names out of your discussion with the faculty and the school board?”

“I do.”

“Independently of one another, Rich Amitrano and Sara York have given my department credible information that a female teacher on staff here had an intimate relationship with Chris Grimm and that relationship extended beyond romance to include the distribution of drugs on school grounds.”

She said, “Some of them will refuse and want a union rep or lawyer.”

“We’ll invite them to bring their reps and lawyers to the station.”

“Then I had better call the president of the school board.”

“I doubt this will make you feel any better, but I think this is almost over.”

“You’re right, Jesse. It doesn’t.”

As was his pattern of late, Jesse stopped by the art rooms on his way out of the building. This time, however, there was no joy in him at the prospect of seeing Maryglenn. He did his usual peeking through the door glass and waiting for a pause in her lesson. When she spotted him lurking, she stepped out to join him in the hall.

“You look terrible,” she said. “Is it Cole? Petra North? Has she—”

“Cole will be fine. I’m going to pick him up now. Petra’s condition is unchanged.”

“Then what?”

“We have to talk... tonight.”

“That sounds ominous.”

He didn’t deny it but said, “After my meeting, but if that doesn’t work for you—”

“That’s fine.”

“Tonight.”

He turned and walked down the hallway without looking back.