Melanie Travis 06 - Hush Puppy (25 page)

I suddenly remembered something. “Michael knows that Krebbs wasn’t dead when Jane found him. I was sitting right there when she told him so on Saturday.”

Shertz flipped back quickly through the pages of his notebook. “One problem,” he said. “Durant had an alibi for the time of the murder. Said he was at some sort of committee meeting. Everybody grabbed lunch and ate it there. Two of the other teachers backed him up.”

“No,” I said, thinking back. “I was at that meeting, and Michael came in late. He didn’t eat lunch. He hadn’t been to the dining room with the rest of us. He was drinking coffee from the pot in the lounge. There was at least fifteen minutes, maybe more, when he could have been anywhere.

“If Michael’s using the pageant committee meeting as his alibi, he’s lying.”

Shertz flipped his notebook shut. “You got an address on this guy? I’m going to head over there now.”

“Harriet?” Russell glanced toward the door.

“Coming right up.”

I thought of something else. “You keep records on the teachers’ cars, don’t you?” I seemed to recall a question to that effect when I’d filled out forms upon my arrival the previous fall.

“I believe so,” said Russell. “It’s a security precaution, so we know which cars belong in our back lot and which don’t.”

“Harriet?” I called after her.

“I’ll bring that, too.”

A minute later, she was back, a file folder in her hands. She skimmed quickly through the information. “Acura Legend, 1991 model, color dark blue.”

A pit opened up in the bottom of my stomach. “That’s the car that was following us.”

“When?” asked Shertz.

“Saturday, when Jane and I left the memorial service. It was right after she’d talked to Michael about finding Krebbs. Jane and I drove to her grandmother’s house. I kept seeing the same car behind us, but I thought I was just being paranoid. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would care where we were going.”

“I don’t like that,” said the detective.

Neither did I. Michael had needed to know where he could find Jane, and I’d led him straight to her home.

“I’m coming with you,” I said, as Harriet read off Michael’s address.

“No, you’re not.” Shertz picked up Russell’s phone, dialed police headquarters, and requested backup.

“If Jane’s in trouble, it’s my fault.”

“If Jane’s in trouble, she doesn’t need you barging in and making things worse.”

“Maybe I could help,” I said desperately.

“How?”

Good question.

“Look,” said the detective, his voice softening. “This is my job, it’s what I’ve been trained to do. Nobody’s going flying across town like a knight on a white horse. If Durant is there, we’ll bring him in for questioning. We’ll do things nice and quiet. You won’t be able to help, Ms. Travis. You’d only be in the way.”

Before I could protest again, he was gone. A minute later, we saw his car speed down the driveway. No lights, no sirens. Not in Greenwich.

I stared out the window and frowned mightily. Always before, I’d managed to beat the police to the punch. Well, to be perfectly honest, sometimes I’d stumbled upon the solution a few steps ahead of them. Once or twice I’d ended up putting myself in danger. But I’d never missed the big finish entirely.

I hated being left behind.

Russell crossed the room to stand beside me. “He knows what he’s doing,” he said.

“I know. But I still want to be there. I want to see for myself that Jane is okay.”

“Ms. Travis?” Harriet was back. “There’s a phone call for you.”

I hurried over to the desk. I’d never gotten a call at school before. Nobody would bother me here, unless it was an emergency. I hoped Davey was all right.

I picked up the receiver and pressed the flashing button. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” said Aunt Peg. “I’ve been calling all over trying to find you. What are you doing still at school?”

“It’s a long story.”

Russell was looking at me quizzically. I looked back and shrugged.

“You can tell me about it when you get here. And make it quick. It seems I have an unexpected visitor. She’s eating my food and playing with my dogs . . .”

Jane? My heart leapt.

“. . . and I haven’t a clue why she’s here, except that she seems to think she’s on the lam, her words, not mine. How this slip of a girl could possibly be in trouble—”

“Just hold on to her,” I said quickly. “Don’t let her out of your sight, okay? I’ll be right there.”

I slammed down the phone, and turned to find Russell waiting for news.

“Has our prodigal child turned up?”

“She’s with my Aunt Peg.”

“Good, then she’s in safe keeping.” Russell smiled slightly. “A formidable woman, your aunt.”

Apparently they’d met. Perhaps on the occasion of the bribe cum donation, that had gotten me my job. I pushed the thought aside for now. I’d iron that problem out when the others had been taken care of.

“Aunt Peg will keep Jane safe until I get there. If Detective Shertz calls, would you tell him what happened?” I scribbled down Peg’s address and phone number. “This is where we’ll be.”

I left Russell’s office at a run. Luckily, the halls were nearly empty, and I was able to convince myself that I wasn’t setting a bad example. Otherwise, I’d have had to put myself on report.

I stopped by my classroom, fetched Faith, and headed out to Peg’s. It was a straight shot out Lake Avenue to Round Hill, and we made good time. Less than ten minutes after hanging up the phone, I was turning into Peg’s driveway.

She must have been watching out the window because she met us at the door. For once, Peg’s house dogs didn’t seem to be doing their duty as guardians. Even with Faith on the step, I didn’t hear a single bark.

“Jane has them with her in the kitchen,” Peg informed me as we headed that way. “They’re all besotted with her, the entire lot of them.” Judging by her tone, she couldn’t decide whether to be disgruntled at the Poodles’ lack of loyalty, or pleased that she’d found a kindred spirit in Jane.

“What’s she doing here?” I asked, hurrying to keep up.

“I have no idea. I found her out in the kennel about an hour ago. She’d used some dog beds to make a nest for herself and fallen fast asleep. I think she may have spent the night.

“Poor girl, she seemed to think she’s in some sort of danger. I wasn’t able to convince her otherwise, or I’d have returned her straightaway to her grandmother. I’m hoping you’ll have better luck.”

“She’s been missing since yesterday,” I said. “And she may be right about the danger. Let’s hear what she has to say.”

“Ms. Travis.” Jane looked up and smiled as I entered the kitchen.

She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by Aunt Peg’s house dogs, who tried, belatedly, to muster a halfhearted welcome. Faith received the lion’s share of the greeting, while I was mostly ignored. It probably says something about the state of my life that this didn’t seem unusual to me.

“I’m glad you came,” Jane said. “I’m in big trouble, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

I sat down on the floor beyond the ring of Poodles. “What’s up?”

“For starters, Gran is probably going to kill me.” Jane toyed with the nearest dog’s topknot, her fingers sifting through the hair.

“She’s been very worried,” I said. “She called the police, and they’re out looking for you. Why did you run away?”

“I didn’t know what else to do. Ever since Krebbs died, strange things keep happening. And then yesterday, a car started driving up and down my street. Back and forth, back and forth; it went really slow in front of my house. I think somebody’s watching me.”

Aunt Peg brought out a plate of freshly baked sugar cookies, offered them around, then pulled up a chair and sat down to listen.

“A dark blue Acura?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Jane nodded. “That’s Michael Durant’s car. Remember him?”

“The drama teacher. He called me.”

I was chewing, but I swallowed fast. “When?”

“Yesterday. He said he needed to talk to me. He wanted to come to my house and pick me up. He said we could go for a ride. Like I would do that with some guy I barely knew. How dumb did he think I was? I told him to buzz off.”

“Good for you,” Peg said to Jane, then turned to me, “Who’s Michael Durant?”

“A new teacher at Howard Academy. He signed on this semester. It turns out that he’s related to the school’s founder. Joshua Howard’s daughter, Ruth, had an illegitimate son who grew up to be Michael’s father.”

“Did Russell know that when he hired him?” asked Peg.

“That’s apparently why he was hired. Michael said he’d sell his story to the tabloids, otherwise.”

“I’m surprised,” Peg mused. “I thought Russell was made of sterner stuff than that.”

I shot her a look. “When it comes to Howard Academy, I gather Russell is open to all sorts of persuasion.”

Peg’s face paled slightly. Her gaze slid away, and she developed a sudden need to get up and pour us all something to drink.

“That’s not all,” said Jane.

Somehow I’d known it wouldn’t be.

“I didn’t tell you everything before. I wanted to, but Brad wouldn’t let me. He said it was a bad idea.”

“Brad’s gone,” I said.

“I know.” Jane’s head drooped. “He came to see me before he left.”

Peg handed around glasses of milk, then broke a cookie into pieces and divided it among the Poodles. “This is the boy you told me about?” she asked Jane. “The one who was looking after you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He took care of Jane,” Peg said to me. “He couldn’t have been all bad. By the time you reach my age, you realize that nobody’s perfect. Everybody has their little faults. Sometimes you just have to try and be understanding.”

Were we still talking about Brad? I wondered. Or was Peg referring to herself; justifying her relentless need to take charge of things that were none of her business? I’d find that out later. Now I had more pressing things to attend to.

“What didn’t Brad want you to tell me?” I asked Jane. “What happened that made you feel you needed his protection?”

“It was when Krebbs died,” the girl said softly. “I told you about finding him there, but I didn’t tell you all of it. He talked to me. Not just the name, but other stuff, too. I think he knew he was dying. He told me to watch out for Jason. Krebbs said that Jason was looking for something valuable, and that it was important he didn’t find it.”

“Did he tell you what it was?”

“No.” Jane bit her lip. “I’m not sure he knew. He was kind of babbling about things. You know, like maybe he was delirious? He wanted me to bring him some paint.”

“Paint?” Aunt Peg frowned.

“That’s what it sounded like. There were a couple of cans stored in the shed. I figured that was what he meant.”

Hmm, I thought, ideas igniting like sparklers. Not paint . . . not exactly. I bet I knew what Krebbs had been talking about. Things were finally beginning to make sense.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone this before?” Aunt Peg asked.

“I was afraid to. Krebbs told me to watch out for Jason, but how could I when I didn’t know who he was? All I could think of was that guy in the horror movies. The whole thing was giving me nightmares.”

Poor child, I thought. It was a wonder she hadn’t run away sooner. “What about Detective Shertz? You talked to him. Didn’t you think you could trust him?”

“A cop,” Jane sniffed. “Brad told me
never
to trust a cop. They say they’re going to help you, but in the end they turn things around and make it all your fault.”

“Did you really believe that?”

“I told Shertz about Jason, didn’t I? I figured that was enough. If he was going to help me, he would find Jason, and then I wouldn’t have to be scared anymore.”

“He did find Jason,” I told her. “The man Krebbs was talking about was Michael Durant. And you were very smart to have nothing to do with him.”

“What about the thing he was looking for?” Aunt Peg asked. “What was that?”

“I’m not positive about this part,” I said. “But I have a pretty good idea. There’s a painting at the school of Honoria Howard, one of the academy’s founders. I’ve thought all along that there was something odd about it.”

“Like what?” asked Jane.

“For one thing, it’s a terribly unflattering likeness. I wondered why anyone would commission such a monstrosity. Or having done so, why would anyone keep it?”

“Maybe its very valuable,” said Peg. “Who was the artist?”

“It wasn’t signed by a name, only initials. R.W.H. The same initials belonged to the author of a diary I’ve been reading recently, Ruth Winston Howard. She was Joshua Howard’s youngest daughter.” I filled in the details of Ruth’s story. “The portrait was dated 1936. Ruth must have painted it shortly before she died.

“At that point, she probably blamed her aunt for much of what had gone wrong in her life, hence the unflattering depiction. She also placed the family pet in the painting, a Poodle named Poupee. I thought at first that he must have been Honoria’s dog, but he wasn’t. According to Ruth’s diary, Honoria didn’t like him at all. Clearly, Ruth was up to something.”

“Yes,” said Aunt Peg, beginning to sound exasperated. “But what?”

“Ruth talked about a hidden treasure in her diary. She said it was something that had belonged to her mother, and she was planning to use it to finance her escape. When Ruth first began painting, Honoria told Joshua that the girl had inherited her mother’s interest in art. I think that’s where the treasure lies. Somehow that painting is the solution to the mystery.”

“Well done, Melanie. I thought you might figure things out eventually. I’m glad to see my faith in you wasn’t misplaced.”

I’d been so caught up in the explanation that it took me a moment to realize that the voice had come from the hallway behind me. A man’s voice. Beside me, Jane’s eyes were wide as saucers. The Poodles leapt up and began to bark, but their warning came too late.

Michael Durant was already in the house, and the gun he held in his right hand was trained unwaveringly on the three of us.