Giving Up the Ghost (24 page)

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Authors: Marilyn Levinson

Tags: #Mystery, #Ghost Stories, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Giving Up the Ghost
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Gabbie struggled to shake off the apprehension pressing down on her shoulders.
"Charlie's not your suspect," she shouted. "He'd no more kill Barrett than set the school on
fire."

"My sentiments exactly. Trouble is he has motive, opportunity, and possibly had the
weapon."

Darren's logic was like an ice cube sliding down the back of her shirt. "I know he
threatened Barrett, but he'd never act on it. I bet someone killed Barrett while Charlie was sound
asleep in his aunt's house. Can't you tell by rigor mortis?"

Darren laughed. "It takes four hours after death for rigor mortis to set in, Miss Marple,
so there's a good chance you're right. Unless Charlie has the stamina of Superman and snuck out of
Sonia's house, which she claims he didn't. When we found him last night, he was all tuckered in. And
he didn't look much better this morning."

She suddenly remembered the sharp noises that had interrupted her sleep. "Darren, I
may have heard the shots. There were two of them."

"There were two bullet holes," he said grimly. "What time was this?"

"I've no idea," she admitted, "since I went right back to sleep." She thought a moment.
"But it must have been near dawn because I remember seeing a glimmer of light along the side of
the shade."

"Just a second."

She heard voices in the background, then Darren was back. "I have to go. Stop by the
station later, if you can. I should be back around two."

"I will. And thanks for letting me know about Barrett. I didn't mean to yell at you
before."

"Forget it." She heard the smile in his voice. "I'm used to getting flack from friends
because I'm the law and order man. Couple of times, Cam came close to throwing me a punch."

"I can believe that," she said. "Don't worry. I won't get physical."

"Hmm, that might not be a bad idea."

She smiled as she put down the phone. It was a good thing Darren had a sense of humor.
The poor guy. She'd gone and spilled her anxieties all over him, when he was only doing his job.
Playing the role of policeman to his friends and neighbors had to be sticky at times.

Her smile disappeared when she remembered why Darren had called her. Barrett was
dead. Someone had shot him. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She hadn't liked the boy. In truth,
she'd feared him. Still, the death of someone so young, so full of potential, was terribly sad.

Barrett had hassled a number of people in CH. Gabbie couldn't keep track of all the
comments she'd heard: he had to be stopped, he had to be punished. No doubt, someone finally
decided he'd gone too far and killed him.

But it wasn't Charlie. Charlie had insisted Barrett and Todd had taken the gun from him
and ordered him to move on. Maybe they got into an argument and the gun went off. Darren hadn't
mentioned Todd. Surely, he intended to question Barrett's sidekick. Todd held several pieces of the
jigsaw puzzle. And he was bound to be more talkative, now that Barrett wasn't around to lead him
into trouble.

Gabbie turned on the washing machine and glanced down at her watch. She'd better get
moving or she'd be late for her first class. She was reaching for her school bag when the doorbell
rang.

Without thinking, she flung the door open, and gave a start at the sight of Fred Leverette
looming in her doorway. Gabbie had never noticed his resemblance to a grizzly bear before--the
large, shambling physique, the broad shoulders hunched up beneath his brown parka.

"Ms. Meyerson, Gabbie. I'm so glad to find you in."

"Er--good morning."

His closeness made her uneasy. She stepped back. He moved forward and entered the
cottage.

"I'm just on my way out," she said quickly. "I have to go or I'll be late for my first
class."

"I stopped by to thank you for looking after Theo last night. This business with Charlie
Russell has gotten her rattled."

Then why weren't you there for her? Gabbie considered asking. Instead, she merely
nodded.

"I saw the police were at Sonia's, no doubt to question Charlie about that Connelly kid's
murder. Jeez, I don't know what this town is turning into."

She marveled how, even though Fred had spent the night with his girl friend a few
towns away, he'd managed to get the latest CH news flash.

"Excuse me, but I have to leave now."

Fred was oblivious to both her dismissal and her frosty tone. "Poor Charlie's afraid of
his own shadow. He hasn't the guts to kill anyone. If you ask me, I'd put my money on his aunt
Sonia."

"Sonia?" Now Gabbie's curiosity was aroused.

Fred gave her a smug smile. "Yessiree! I know she looks fragile, but the woman's crazy.
And fierce as a lioness when it comes to that nephew of hers. I wouldn't put it past her if she
decided to stop his tormenter once and for all."

Gabbie suddenly realized she'd followed Fred into the den. His eyes darted around the
room. "Nice and cozy here. I bet this was their little love nest."

Her anxiety, which had abated when the subject changed to Sonia, returned. She drew
back her shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. "Mr. Leverette, I need to leave now."

He shook his head as though waking from a dream. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to keep
you. Thanks again for letting Theo spend the night." He lumbered out the front door and backed his
old jalopy down the driveway before Gabbie finished locking the front door behind her.

What was that all about,
she wondered as she drove to school. A sincere
gesture of appreciation? A chance to see where his wife had cheated on him? Or--her pulse
raced--was Fred Leverette the intruder who had struck her, and was still after whatever
he'd been searching for the other night?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Gabbie signed in at the main office and headed for the faculty lounge. When she
entered, Suzanne called her name and pointed to the vacant seat beside her on the couch. Gabbie
poured herself half a mug of coffee and sat down.

"Did you hear about Barrett Connelly?" Suzanne said in a half whisper.

Gabbie nodded and caught the tail-end of a story Andy Gorsky was relating to five of his
colleagues at the far end of the room.

"And no one's going to tell me he didn't put sugar in my experiment, screwing up two
weeks of work," he declared.

"Tsk, tsk," Suzanne chided, a twinkle in her eye. "Speaking ill of the dead, Andrew?"

Andy scowled at her.

"My sympathies are with Charlie Russell." Barbara Chin, the art teacher, cast down her
eyes in sadness. "The poor kid was driven to an act of desperation."

Gabbie nearly overturned her coffee. Was there a spy system running through Chrissom
Harbor? How on earth did they connect Charlie to Barrett's murder?

"Charlie would never kill anyone, and that includes Barrett Connelly," she declared.

George Breck, the guidance counselor, chortled. "Do you need a photograph of what
happened? Get real, Gabbie. We all like Charlie, but you have to face facts. He grabbed his aunt's gun
and went after Connelly. I heard he admitted all that when they found him last night."

"He was angry, yes. But if you know so much, you also know Barrett and Todd took the
gun away from him."

Oscar Tweeney laughed. "Well, sure, that's what he told the police. That's what anyone
would say."

Gabbie glared at the math teacher. "Interesting, how you pick and choose your facts. I
wouldn't want you on my jury."

"Now, now," Suzanne murmured. "Let's not go to battle over this."

Before either Gabbie or Oscar could respond, Mac Debrowski, the assistant principal,
strode in.

"Todd Ross is missing. He didn't come to school, which is no big surprise. But when
Donna called his house, his mother was frantic. She said his bed hadn't been slept in."

Gabbie shuddered. She wondered if Darren had known Todd was missing when he
called her. At any rate, she was glad he'd brought the Suffolk Police in on the case. The situation was
growing more ominous by the moment.

"Two minutes to assembly time," Mac reminded them.

"Is it really necessary to have an assembly in honor of Barrett Connelly?"

Mac gave Suzanne a wry smile. "Tim's position is any student who dies while attending
Chrissom Harbor High School deserves a school-wide tribute."

"Then Tim better be prepared to make a speech full of platitudes," Andy said. "Everyone
I spoke to--and that includes the presidents of the school council and the senior class--refuses to
stand up and say anything good about Barrett Connelly."

Mac cleared his throat. "I'll be saying a few words. We'll shorten the assembly if things
get too awkward." The bell rang. "And remember, you're all expected to show up and help maintain
appropriate behavior."

Suzanne stood close to Gabbie as they rinsed out their mugs. "Even Tim, who loves to
make speeches, has to find this one a toughie."

As they headed down the hall toward the auditorium, Gabbie said, "I bet plenty of kids
are relieved their tormentor won't ever bother them again."

Suzanne opened her eyes wide in mock amazement. "Zut alors. One might dare say
we're all better off, now that he's dead."

"Obviously, someone felt strongly enough to take action. Could be Barrett went too
far."

Suzanne pursed her lips. "Oh yes, Barrett did many bad things, pushed too many
people's buttons. He was bound to come to a bad end, sooner or later."

Clearly, she had a specific incident in mind. Gabbie was about to ask what it was, but
they were approaching the auditorium. She and Suzanne separated to usher students into
seats.

A heightened sense of excitement made the air crackle like electricity before a thunder
storm. Intense whispering rippled along the rows of students. The occasional eruption of laughter
was quickly squelched by unsmiling teachers. A hush swept over the student body as Dr. Tim
Jordan mounted the steps and took his place center stage.

"As most of you know, Barrett Connelly is no longer with us. His body was found on the
beach this morning. The police tell me he died some time before 7:00 a.m."

Voices rose as students commented to one another. Tim raised his hands, and the room
became silent.

"At present we are not concerned with how Barrett died. We must leave that to the
police and other officials. Rather, we--Barrett's teachers, friends, and fellow classmates--have
gathered here to pay our respects to a member of our community and to mourn his passing."

Mac Debrowski made a few general remarks about the tragedy of a young man's life
ending before he could reach his potential. Then Tim asked if anyone would like to say a few words
to honor Barrett. Bursts of laughter greeted this proposal. No one volunteered.

From her vantage point near the back of the auditorium, Gabbie observed a few of the
girls sniffling and blowing their noses, including Lizzie Terranova. So, she thought, some of them
had found Barrett handsome and appealing. A romantic figure, perhaps, rebelling against the status
quo. Or it could be they were moved by his sudden death. She wondered if he'd dated any of the
teary-eyed girls. If he had, no girl appeared to have played a major role in the last days of his
life.

Back in their classroom, her third period students were too charged up and eager to talk
about Barrett's murder to settle down to a grammar lesson. Gabbie assigned it as homework
instead and let them chat quietly among themselves.

Fourth period, Theo barely nodded to her as she entered the room. Her face looked
pinched; her scowl was in place. She's terrified for Charlie.

This proved to be true when Theo jumped down Jed Lancaster's throat for daring to
suggest that Charlie Russell had done them all a favor by offing the school bully.

Sixth period was worse because it was Barrett's English class. Gabbie was taken aback
when Heather and April suggested that the class plant a tree outside the cafeteria as a memorial to
Barrett. The others quickly scotched the idea, and Gabbie was able to steer them to a lesson on
writing a business letter.

When the bell rang, she gathered up her briefcase and parka and flew out of the
building, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere. It troubled her that one of her students had
been murdered, another was a possible suspect, and a third--Theo--was making herself ill by
fretting over Charlie.

As she walked toward her car, a young woman in a black leather coat dashed across the
parking lot and made a bee-line for Gabbie.

She extended her right hand. "Hello, I'm Aurora Dutson. I wonder if I could speak to you
for a minute."

Gabbie had no choice but to shake the proffered hand. Puzzled, because the woman
couldn't be a day over thirty, she said, "Are you a parent? I don't believe I have a student named
Dutson."

"I'm not a parent. I'm a reporter for The Record. And you are?"

Furious, Gabbie unlocked her car, and spun around. "I've nothing to say. Please go
away."

"But it's my job to ask questions." The reporter whipped out a notepad and a pen from
her huge leather bag.

"Not in a school, you don't," Gabbie snapped.

Aurora smiled, immune to Gabbie's hostility. "Were the students upset to hear that
Barrett Connelly was murdered? I understand from his neighbors he was persona non grata among
his peers."

"I've nothing to say." Gabbie got in and slammed the door shut.

"Do you think this murder has anything to do with Cameron Leeds' death?"

Shocked, Gabbie opened the window and stared up at her. "No, I don't. Why do you
ask?"

"Because Barrett and his friend discovered Mr. Leeds' body on the beach. Eight months
later, Barrett's found shot to death in the same vicinity."

Gabbie glared. "Irresponsible assumptions give the press the bad reputation it
deserves." She raised her window and turned on the ignition.

The reporter shrugged, put away her notepad and pen, and walked off.

Gabbie hugged herself to still her trembling body. "Of course there's no connection
between the two murders," she whispered, while breathing deeply to regain her composure.

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