Murder in a Basket (An India Hayes Mystery) (23 page)

Chapter
Forty-One

The school board meeting started at six. I didn’t tell my parents I’d be there in case I changed my mind. After considering Mains’s warning, I felt I would be safer with some people around. I was half-tempted to invite Ina along but thought better of it. I didn’t want her to jump on the bell tower bandwagon. If she did, I would have no peace from that particular issue.

The administrative office for the school board w
as located inside the high school, and so the meeting would be held in the high school auditorium. Even though I had been there many times since I graduated, it always felt a little off to return to school. Instinctively, I parked in the same space I had used when I was a student there.

By the time I walked into the
auditorium, the meeting was already in full swing. A high school student, who looked like she’d rather be just about anywhere else on the planet, took a break from texting to hand me the evening’s agenda. The board was still in the middle of item number one: a new arts program for fourth through eighth graders.

David
stood at the podium on the floor presenting the program to the board. “We at the co-op know the school system is having trouble providing arts education for the students, so we open our doors for any interested students who would like to take free after-school art instruction. This plan would be especially successful if these students could apply their time at the co-op toward class credit. We can’t let the arts die out in our community for lack of money.”

There was cheer from the crowd, and I found my
self clapping. It was an excellent plan and would give the school system an out on the expense of an art program. The program had already been cut by two-thirds since I was in school. I shivered to think what kind of art education my nephew and nieces would receive by the time they were old enough to join the co-op’s program.

The do
urfaced president of the school board didn’t look nearly as enthused. “Thank you, Mr. Berring, we will take it under consideration.”

If that’s the kind of reaction David’s free arts education plan
received from the school board, my parents and their bell tower crusade were doomed. I spotted them in the last row on the first section of the seats. I hurried over to them. As always, the row was full of their band of faithful groupies: church members and middle-aged leftists. “I’m so glad you decided to come,” Dad whispered hoarsely as I knelt by his chair.

Mom looked down at me. She reached into her expansive bag and pulled out a
n enormous stack of pro-bell tower pamphlets. She thrust them at me. “Hand these out at the end of the meeting. Make sure you’re at the main exit that leads to the parking lot. You will catch most of them. We need as many of these people on our side as we can get.”

I took the papers without a word and consulted the evening
’s agenda. The bell tower issue was the very last item. Perhaps the school board was hoping there wouldn’t be enough time for that particular item. They should know better, after having wrangled with my parents once before.

I was surprised when I read my mother’s pamphlet.
It wasn’t about saving the tower; it was about a concert that would be held on the square next month to raise money to restore the aging building. It seemed like Mom was jumping the gun to plan such an event. From past experience, I wondered what she had hidden up her sleeve for tonight.

I found a seat in
another section and listened to the next presenter talk about new computers for elementary school. His monotone voice lulled me into a bored daze. It was nearing eight and the close of the meeting. The board president raised her gavel. “I believe that’s all we have time for tonight. Is there a motion for adjournment?”

“
I—” A member of the audience began but was cut off my mother. Her preacher voice could overpower a foghorn.

Mom stood.
“I move that we continue the meeting to address the important issue of the bell tower.”

The president narrowed her eyes.
“There are only ten minutes left in the meeting.”

“
This won’t take long.” She made her way down the aisle with the same confidence she displayed when she approached her pulpit on Sunday morning.

The president scowled but gestured
for her to come forward.

“
The bell tower is part of Stripling’s legacy. I have documents here that declare the tower a state historic landmark, making it illegal for you tear it down.”

The president bristled.
“How can you do that without the board’s consent?”

“
I don’t need the school board’s consent, only the support of the city council, which the Save the Bell committee obtained yesterday. The city council was very pleased with the idea of saving another historic building in town. You know how much they hate to lose any bit of our Western Reserve heritage.”

The president looked like she was ready to spit.
“This is on school property.”

“
Of course, but your school property is paid for by tax levies, and so essentially you work for the town.”

The board couldn’t argue with that.
Several of the members began whispering to each other.

Mom put her hand to her cheek as if she were thinking.
“One more thing I learned, Madam President; the demo company that believes we should destroy the tower is owned by your brother-in-law.”

“
I don’t see what that has to with anything. His company is the one the city uses on a regular basis.”

“
Yes, but did you get a second or even third opinion about the stability of the structure?”

“
I don’t know why that would be necessary.”

“
I should think it is in any case when the school system is contemplating a large and expensive project. However, in this case it would be even more necessary, considering your close relationship to the company’s owner.”

The president’s face was beet red.
“What are you suggesting?”

Mom
’s shoulders shrugged. “I’m not suggesting anything.” She reached in a large tote bag she had at her side and pulled out a thick sheaf of paper. “Here are four statements from four different local contractors, none of whom have any relation to the school board or any members of the Save the Bell committee, who have inspected the tower and declare it is structurally sound.” She placed the stack of papers on the table. “You can keep those. I have my own copies.”

The president went from red to white.

Mom turned to the audience. “Even though the structure’s sound, it will take time to raise the funds to restore the tower to its former glory. Out of concern for our children’s safety, I recommend the tower be locked and closed to the public until the necessary funds can be raised. Let’s put it to a vote.”

The ayes had it.

Mom checked her watch. “Excellent, we are three minutes early. I move to adjourn.” Yet another commanding performance delivered by my mother. The school board never stood a chance.

Sh
e quickly received a second, and the president’s gavel hit the table. I wondered if there would be a dent.

Chapter
Forty-Two

As the last person walked across the parking lot with a pro-bell tower concert flyer in hand, I stacked the rest of the pamphlets on the edge of a windowsill. Dad rolled up. “India, I think we’re in trouble.”

I looked around.
There was no one in the hall. “Trouble? Why? Where’s Mom? Did she get herself arrested? I’m not in the mood to bail her out of the Justice Center.”

“
It’s worse than that.”

Something worse than my pastor
-mother being arrested and thrown into the city jail? There’s the Hayes family perspective for you.

“
Where’s Mom?”

“
She got a ride with some of the bell tower team. They are going to meet at the church to plan the next move.” He looked down. “I just feel so awful about this.”

“
What is it?” I was starting to worry.

“
It’s Zach. I can’t find him.”

“
He was here at the school board meeting?”

“
Not here per se. He was out in the courtyard. I had tied him with his leash to one of the benches there. He’s gone. His leash is gone, too. He must have untied himself somehow. I don’t know how he did it. I tied those knots extra tight. He must have worked for a magician in a former life.”

“
Dad! I can’t believe you did that.”

Dad’s forehead wrinkled.
“I’m sorry.”

“
We have to look for him.”

“
Darn this chair,” Dad said. “I’m useless.”

Dad rarely complained about his wheelch
air, so I knew he really felt upset about losing Zach.

“
Don’t worry, Dad. I’ll find him. He probably wandered off. And you’re not useless. You can stay here in case Zach comes back to the school.”

David stepped up.
I hadn’t realized he was still in the high school “I can help you look,” he said.

“
No, that’s okay,” I said quickly. “I’m sure it won’t take me long to find him.”

Dad beamed.
“Great idea. India would love your help.”

“
I—”

“
It’s settled then,” David interrupted. “We’d better start looking before it gets much later.”

David and I walked across the parking lot
to the courtyard where high school students could take their lunches outside in nice weather. In northern Ohio, nice weather during the school year is all of a couple months long. There was a dim security light in the courtyard, providing us a full view of the place. Zach wasn’t there. I peered behind the bushes and called the dog’s name.

David stood off to the side and occasionally called
as well.

I glanced at him.
“I’m going to look over by the stadium. There are a lot of little places to hide there, and Zach might have been attracted by the smell of discarded popcorn from last weekend’s game. You might want to start around the front of the school.” I started off at a fast walk.

I heard David
’s heavy footsteps behind me. Quickly, he was at my side. “I’ll go with you.”

“
I think this would be more effective if we split up,” I said, not breaking my pace.

Before
David could respond, I heard an unmistakable bark. I broke into a run in that direction. The barking led us to the foot of the bell tower. I turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. “He’s in there,” I said in disbelief. I peered into the inky black inside of the tower and saw nothing. “Zach! Zach! Come on boy. Come here!” I continued calling for a few more minutes.

Zach
’s barks were becoming increasingly hysterical, but he didn’t appear.

I looked up
. The barks and howls were coming from above. “Oh, crap.”

“
Looks like he’s at the top,” David said.

“
Crap. Crap. Crap,” I said. “Zach! Zach! Here, boy!”

Nothing but frenzied
barking from above.

“
I don’t think he’s coming down,” David said. “Maybe we need to go up after him.”

“
Double crap!”

“
It will be fine. Didn’t your mother report that four contractors found the building sound?”

“
I don’t think they inspected the building in the middle of the night.”

I looked inside again.
There was very little light coming from the windows at the top, certainly not enough to climb the treacherous stairs by. A small penlight hung from my keychain. I clicked it on. It gave us all of two inches of light.

“
You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.

“
If you want to stay down here, I can go up,” David offered.

“
No, no, I’ll go. Zach’s my responsibility.”

“
Let’s both go then.”

“
Fine. You go first.”

David
and I shuffled to the foot of the stairs. He stepped on the first step, and it creaked under his weight.

I grimaced.
“I’ll wait until you get to the first landing before I start up.”

A minute later, David’s shadow paused.
“I’m at the first landing.”

“
Okay.” Under my breath, I added, “Here we go.”

I held my breath the entire walk up the staircase. My tiny penlight provided little comfort. David reached the top quickly.
“You’re almost there,” he said encouragingly. “You won’t believe this when you see it.”

“
Is Zach up there?”

“
Yes.”

“
Is he okay?”

“
He’s fine.”

I heard a deep growl, and I quickened my pace.

I reached the top. With the open windows, there was enough light around the bell to see pretty clearly. It was a cold, clear night with a half moon hanging low in the sky.

Zach’s leas
h was tied in knots around the railing. Whoever had done it had spent a lot of time making sure the dog couldn’t get loose. “Poor baby,” I cooed. The dog nuzzled my hand. I looked at David. “Who would do this? I hope he’s not hurt.” The long leash was also wrapped around his neck several times. I put two fingers between the leash and his neck. It was tied loosely there, but I worried that he’d choke himself if he moved too much and tightened the leash.

“
He looks okay. Probably some kids thought it would be a funny joke,” David said.

“
Well, it’s not. You wouldn’t happen to have a pocket knife on you? It’s going to take forever to untie these knots.”

“
No, sorry.”

I stood and reached in
to my jeans pocket or my phone. “I’d better call Dad, so he won’t worry.” I hit the number five on my cell, which speed-dialed my dad. The line began to ring, and Dad picked up.

“
Dad—”

David bum
ped into me and the cell flew out of my hand and over the rail. We heard it crash on the cement floor below with a sickening smash. I stared at him in shock.