DEATH IN PERSPECTIVE (11 page)

A smile curled around my cheeks. “So, you’re looking for inside information? You could
deputize me.”

“No,” said Will.

“You don’t have to be so quick on the draw.”

“More like we should keep an eye on you.” Will tapped a finger on his desk. “Someone’s
stirring up trouble at Peerless. I’m just not sure if it’s a student getting his kicks
from upsetting teachers or something more malicious. I don’t believe they’re dangerous,
but these things can get out of hand quickly.”

“Tinsley’s shook up, that’s for sure,” I said. “Here’s something. The art department
might have a drug problem.”

“Students or teachers?” asked Luke.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “My source implicated the whole department.”

“Who was your source?” asked Will.

“A student.”

“Well, that may be the answer to the confiscated hard drive. Some idiot could be using
the school’s computers to organize their dealing.” Will waved his hand. “What else
do you have?”

“Your turn,” I said. “Did Miss Pringle leave a suicide note?”

Will stared at his hands. “Yes and no.”

“What is with the yeses and no
e
s?”

“The note was typed. Printed from a computer.” Will shook his head. “Didn’t bother
Coroner McMillan, but I didn’t like it.”

“The note or that fact that it was printed?”

“Both.”

I kicked my boots against the chair legs. “What about the text messages she got? What
did they say?”

“She deleted the messages, but Line Creek sent the phone to the GBI lab for analysis.”
Will leaned forward on his desk. “So, I bet you’ve heard a lot of scuttle about Pringle.
What do you think the texts say?”

“I’m guessing they refer to her love life
,” I said.
“
A parent hinted she had an affair with the principal. Even Tinsley called Cleveland
a lovesick basset hound or some such name. And maybe she slept with a coach and some
fathers. I saw her picture. Maranda Pringle’s a looker. But I can’t see how any of
that would cause her to commit suicide.”

“Unless one of the affairs caused her a lot of guilt for another reason,” said Will.

“Like?”

“A student who died.”

“Holy shit.” My eyes widened. “Pringle was involved with Ellis Madsen’s father? So
both Pringle and Tinsley are pointed out for Ellis’s death?”

“How would Tinsley be involved in her death?” asked Luke.

“He gave her the lead in
Evita
, which may have prompted the bullying attack. Lots of jealousy hangs over that theater
program,” I said. “But I’m having a hard time reading anyone at this school. They’re
not my people.”

“Let us know if you hear anything else,” said Will. “If you have anything substantial,
I’ll tell Detective Herrera.”

“Will do
.
” I rose from my chair. “Set building doesn’t start until after auditions, but I’m
fixing to go back to school tomorrow anyway.”

“Just a minute.” Will pointed at the chair and I sank back onto the seat. “Harper,
I need to talk to Cherry about some personal business.”

My eyebrows hit my temples. Did Miss Tamara squeal to Uncle Will about me acting like
a squirrel?

“Yes, sir
.
” Luke stood, then placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s continue our talk about this
Peerless business. Red’s at six tomorrow night?”

“All right
.
” I watched Luke stroll out of the room and turned to Uncle Will. “I swear I’m not
running around Luke’s tree. I’m just reporting in on the Phantom Texter case.”

“What tree?” Uncle Will’s brows dropped. “You do not have a case. You’re observing
an event while you’re working on something else.”

“Yes, sir. Although if someone’s paying me to do investigative work, I believe case
is an appropriate term.”

Will shot me a look that bespoke of an inappropriate term.

“Is that the personal business you wanted to talk about?”

“No
.
” Will dipped forward in his chair. “It’s about your brother. Something’s going on
with that boy.”

“Cody’s twenty-one. His brain isn’t fully formed, that’s what’s wrong with him.”

“Deputy Caruthers picked him up last night.”

“Dammit. What’d he do? DUI?”

“Not exactly. Caruthers was patrolling Fetlock Meadows subdivision and found your
brother sleeping in his car. Cody had been drinking earlier, though.”

“Fetlock Meadows? Cody doesn’t know anybody in Fetlock Meadows.”
Fetlock Meadows had been built around a golf course outside Halo. Not quite as posh
as Ballantyne, but Halo’s high and mighty needed a place for their own McMansions
close to their ancestral digs.

Uncle Will ran a hand over his salt and pepper buzz. “He was parked outside JB Branson’s
house.”

“What in the hell was he doing there?” I said, followed by a silent “Oh, shit.” This
might have something to do with the photos. But why JB’s house? Except Luke bunked
there with his mom and stepdad while waiting to get his own place. Was Cody serious
about his threat against Luke?

Uncle Will saw the cuss words crossing my mind. “What’s wrong with Cody?”

“I don’t know. I’ll talk to him.”

“See that you do. Ed says y’all haven’t been around the farm much. And I know you
skipped Sunday dinner, which isn’t like you.” Will massaged his chin. “What’s going
on with you Tucker kids? Are you and Cody not happy with Casey’s new husband?”

I chewed my cheek, wondering how long I could cover for Cody. And I didn’t want to
upset Casey.

“Takes some getting used to is all,” I finally said. “But I have been going over to
Max Avtaikin’s house to eat.”

“Figured as much. Your belly’s always followed Casey’s cooking. Just don’t let it
hurt Pearl’s feelings. She’s a good woman and good for Ed.”

“Yes, sir. I actually made nice with her this morning.” I jumped off my seat and hot
footed it out of his office before he questioned me on why Cody might stalk the Bransons.

This was the problem with small towns. You spend so much time tripping over everyone’s
feet, after a while you can’t remember where you were supposed to be stepping.

T
hirteen

With the PeerNotes announcement implicating Tinsley and with Vail’s ominous threats,
I wanted to know what Max had learned about the illustrious director. I also needed
to see if my sister had any idea why my brother had lost his ever-loving mind. I kick-started
my Datsun into drive and aimed her east back toward Halo.

My sister answered Max’s door again. Today she wore a pair of cutoffs most likely
illegal in some states and a tube top covered by a black mesh t-shirt. A hole in the
mesh exposed her belly button ring, which caught the light pouring from the second
story chandelier. The ring beamed a tiny blue dot on the marble floor like a white
trash laser pointer.

“Did you come here for dinner again?” she asked.

“What are you making?”

“Nothing special. Greens and chicken fried steak. Maybe I’ll whip up some taters.”

My stomach showed it’s appreciation, and the door on the far right of the foyer flew
open. Nik poked his head out. “What is that noise? Casey, you are okay?”

She popped a hip in his direction, throwing the belly ring laser light toward the
far wall. “It’s just Cherry. She’s staying for dinner.”

“My greatest hope is to have the dinner alone with my wife
.
” Nik glared at me.

“Get a real job and your own house, and you can make it happen
.
” My smile showed my teeth. “This is America, land of opportunity. Where dreams come
true.”

“This is not my meaning.”

“Oh, I got your meaning,” I said. “I want to talk to you, Nik Ivanov. Casey, have
you heard from our brother?”

“Nope. I always assume no news is good news. It’s been a peaceable honeymoon this
way.” The blue dot aimed toward the back of the house at her turn. “You’re on dish
duty tonight.”

I waited for her to leave, hating the thought of killing her peace. “Is Max in there?”
I pointed to the open study door.

“No
.
” Nik shook his head. “He is still in bedroom as usual.”

“Good,” I said, walking through the doorway. “We need to chat. About my sister. And
what you’re doing for the Bear.”

Nik made a sound of protest, but followed me in, shutting the heavy wooden door. The
room still had the essence of Max’s spicy cologne mixed with the other manly scents
of wood oil and leather. And musty Old Rebel junk. Max stored most of his Confederate
States memorabilia in this room. I avoided the cases of antiques and plopped into
a plump, leather armchair in front of the carved marble fireplace.

“I’m kind of surprised Max lets you in here,” I said. “He’s pretty protective of his
Civil War souvenirs.”

“Boss is trusting me
with
many things,” said Nik. He took the other leather chair, letting his arms fall across
the back. “So is my wife. Casey is your sister, but she is my wife. Do not interfere.”

“You are lying to her. That makes it my business
.
” I narrowed my eyes. “She thinks you’re applying at local garages to be a mechanic.
What are you doing, Nik?”

He crossed his arms. “I can make more money working for Avtaikin. And he is helping
us very much, so I want to help him. In truth, I need good job and a house for my
wife.”

“I thought you liked working on cars.”

“I do, but I really like my old job as chauffeur. I want to own limousine company
some day. I need much money for this. Boss says he can help me.”

“What’s Max having you do for him?” My stomach made an unsettled turn. “It’s important
that I know.”

Nik shook his head. “Boss said I shouldn’t tell you any information about the business.”

The hairs on my neck rose. “And why the hell not?”

Nik shrugged. “He says it’s game you play with him. And it’s none of your business.”

I collapsed back in the chair and stared at the coffered ceiling. “It’s not a game
if either of you land in prison.”

“For what are we landing in prison?”

“I don’t know, but Max has come too close for comfort on several occasions. And I
don’t want my sister spending her best childbearing years in the conjugal visit trailer.”

Nik jumped to his feet in order to wave his arms more effectively. “You are ridiculous.
You know this? I have done nothing wrong.”

The door to the study banged against its hinges. I glanced over my shoulder and saw
the Bear leaning on his crutches. His mouth twitched, as if it wanted to smile but
couldn’t in mixed company.

“Boss
.
” Nik hopped from his seat and scurried to the door. “You are using the crutches.
It is wonderful to see you moving about. Cherry is just leaving. She came to visit
her sister.”

“I heard the shouting. I assumed Miss Tucker visits.” Max waved aside Nik’s help and
hobbled into the study. “I will speak to her. Alone.”

Nik shot me a now-you’re-going-to-get-it look, which I ignored. Having a new brother
was not much different than having an old brother.

The door shut behind Nik, and Max crutched his way to his desk. He eased into a smile
and into his big chair, then opened a drawer on his desk to prop his leg. Unbuttoning
the top three buttons on his white dress shirt, he crooked a finger. “Artist, why
are you locked up with Nik in my study?”

I hopped from the chair, but stopped in front of his desk. “What is it this time?
Black market goods you’re importing from the Commies and selling here? Guns? Vodka?
Those little stacking dolls?”

“Commies? You have no idea what I do, do you?” Max smiled. “Good. Let us keep it this
way.”

“We’re friends. I should know what you do for a living.”

“You have caught us. Nik helps me supply the church with gaming equipment for their
casino night. Not so exciting, eh?” His raised eyebrow mocked me, but he dropped it
to sigh. “This obsession you have with finding my illegal activity needs to stop.
You say we are friends? Then I need to trust you. And you need to trust me.”

I toed his desk with my boot. “I’m glad to hear you
’
re putting Nik to legitimate use. That’s a relief. He needs to tell my sister his
plans, though.”

“I agree
.
” Max nodded, then turned to his computer to flick on the monitor. “Now, are you done
interrogating me? Perhaps I can move on to a more useful passage of time.”

“Actually, I’m here to interrogate you on another point
.
” I dropped into a chair before his desk. “Have you learned anything about Tinsley?”

“His background is transparent to a point. Not much of his personal life is available
outside his theater credits. What news about your anonymous bully?”

“Not
hing
really. It could be a jealous parent, a disgruntled student, or a spiteful teacher.
I’ve detected hostile feelings toward both Pringle and Tinsley. Getting into Tinsley’s
advanced drama class is very competitive. Although the texts may point toward the
loss of a star sophomore last year.” I explained Ellis’s suicide.

“Ah, so perhaps the motive is revenge.”

“Perhaps. I wonder if anyone else finds Tinsley’s choice in a play about suicidal
teens in poor taste after what happened to Ellis last year. But maybe that’s why he’s
making
Romeo and Juliet
into a musical comedy. With aliens living in a bubble.”

Max’s gaze flickered from his computer. “You are not selling me on making the contribution
to this drama school.”

“It’s not a drama school. It’s a school with a big drama department.”

“I mean school with much drama. Did you not say
that
many parents threatened to remove their children last year because of this cyberbully?”

“Yes, that’s true. You think the Phantom Texter is trying to get the school shut down?”

“Perhaps
.
” Max shrugged. “If I paid the exorbitant tuition and had to deal with this mess,
I would remove my children from this school.”

I contemplated Max with children, but couldn’t form a mental picture beyond the three
bears and their porridge.

“Perhaps the bully just loves the anarchy.”

“That could be. If someone wanted to shut down Peerless, I’d think they’d be more
public with their accusations. But if the Phantom Texter does intend to ruin the school’s
reputation, I hope he’s the one publicly outed. Playing with emotional blackmail which
led to someone’s suicide is heinous. I want to take this viper down.” I raised my
fist for a dramatic shake.

Max turned from the computer screen to watch me. His brows pulled together. “What
have you done to your arm?”

I dropped my arms, twisting them back and forth to examine them, and spotted the mark.
“It’s not a bruise. I wrote Miss Pringle’s computer password on my arm.”

Max’s brows lifted. “And what did you plan to do with Miss Pringle’s computer password?”

“The police took her computer, but I figure the school staff must be linked in a system.
Her account could already be wiped out, but could we check? I want to see if she had
gotten any emails from the Phantom.”

“I find it ironic that you worry about my legalities, yet you feel no remorse in your
own illicit acts.”

“My illicit acts are for the betterment of society.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Well then, let us break into Miss Pringle’s account. For the
betterment of society.”

I scooted to Max’s side as he pulled up the school website. Ignoring the parent information,
Max hunted the home page until he found the employee links and clicked onto the staff
intranet site.

“All staff has the same type of email address,” I said. “Their first and last name
separated with a period at Peerless dot net.”

Max typed, while I read the code off my arm. He smiled at the computer. “I think this
information may also be helpful for my accountant.”

“You’re going to use Maranda Pringle’s password to help you decide whether to contribute
to the school or not?”

His gaze slid from the computer screen to me. “Why not? I always do the thorough investigation
before writing the checks. Even before I bought your painting.”

My eyes narrowed. “You investigated me?”

“Of course. You are an investment.”

“I
’
m an investment?”

“Your art.” He waved his hand toward the computer. “Please finish your checking of
the Pringle emails.”

I turned to the computer, my mouth itching to question him on his Cherry Tucker probe
while my brain ordered me to focus on the task at hand. “Looks like Miss Pringle was
not one to allow emails to loiter in the inbox. Most of these are flagged to-do types.”

“You expect her to keep incriminating emails? Look in her deleted or sent messages.”

I clicked on the deleted messages. “Nothing. Let me try sent messages.” I tapped the
mouse. “Bingo. She forgot to clear this cache.”

“You realize the police can search these folders?”

“I know, unless they’ve dropped the investigation.” I scrolled through the messages.
“Lots of correspondence between her and Principal Cleveland. Her replies to Cleveland
are very businesslike. Whereas his are of the lovesick basset hound type.”

“Please explain. I do not know this saying.”

“I’ll give you an example. ‘Maranda,’” I read, “‘Please send Brenda Cooke the first
quarter billings statements. By the way, I saw you at Little Verona’s with Coach Newcomb.
D
inner in public? I thought that wasn’t your style. Is this to get back at me? Rick.’”

“Is this billings statement he speaks of attached to the email?”

I spun to face Max. “Stop thinking about their financial reports. This was probably
the kind of stuff the texter used against Miss Pringle.”

“Why should revealing her love affairs drive her to suicide?”

“Don’t say love affairs. It gives me the willies. Americans don’t say love affairs.”

“How do you express the adult relationship, then?” He arched an eyebrow.

“You buy me a beer, look at the door, and I follow you home. Everybody sees it and
boom, we’re in a relationship. And if you deny it, they’ll think I’m loose.”

“Loose?”

“With the morals. And the shedding of the clothes.” I turned back to the computer
to scroll through more of Pringle’s sent box. “I should tell Luke about this email.”

“The policeman?”

“The deputy. He’s also helping me on the case.” I faced Max, scooting my hip onto
the edge of his desk.

His expression appeared relaxed, but the earlier smile had faded from his eyes. “Is
this at your insistence or the policeman’s?”

“His insistence. But it works for me. I want us to be friends.”

“Friends with man your family finds unworthy of your attention?”

“That’s a nice way to put it, but yep. If Luke becomes my friend, then maybe they’ll
see differently. And stop trying to draw lines in the sand between his family and
ours.”

Max took my hand and gave it a pat. “You are the idealist in all circumstances, Artist.
This is a good thing. But not everyone views the world as you do. And your problems
arise when you do not attempt to understand this.”

“Friendship’s not idealistic. Everyone else
has
lost their senses.”

“Exactly my point.” With a smirk, Max tipped his chair back and rested his hands behind
his head. “You are so besotted with your own ethical code, you have not the ability
to see the other perspective. But perhaps your instincts are right and you can bridge
whatever gaps
are
between your families.
‘
But go wisely and slow. Your speed will cause you to stumble.
’
”

“Obviously, this is some kind of compliment I’m too besotted to understand.” I shoved
off the desk. “Tell my sister we’ll talk later. I need to work on my set sketches.”

Maybe friendship wasn’t the key. But I didn’t feel like discussing those intimacies
with Max.

The sweet sorrow of parting from Luke might be more than I could take.