Schooled In Lies (21 page)

“I didn’t—” I started to protest but he wouldn’t let me finish.

“Don’t try and pull a fast one on me and don’t even think about trying to talk to Audrey again. Stay the hell away from her,” he growled, not bothering to look up from his plate.

“Can I assume that you and Gerald were being blackmailed, too?” I asked on the off chance he might want to spill. He didn’t.

“Know what I think?” he asked, wiping his fingers and not waiting for my reply. “I think you made up this whole thing about Ms. Flack being a blackmailer. The woman was never anything but nice to us and here you are trashing her, and she’s not even here to defend herself. I think you’re the one who’s been blackmailing us. ‘Cause by the looks of you, I can tell you can’t be making much money as a teacher. And we all know from your little outburst at the last committee meeting that you’re still bitter about being a fucking loser in high school. This is probably all about revenge, isn’t it? Now you’re just pretending to be a victim too so you can cover your tracks. And I’m telling you now, it ain’t gonna work. You’re not getting another dime from us. It’s over!”

“Dennis, I hate to break it to you, buddy, but high school was eleven years ago and you idiots are the last people I’ve been thinking about. You really need to move on, starting with that ridiculous mullet.” I got up and started to walk away.

Dennis called out after me. “Stay away from us, Kendra. Remember what happened the last time!”

I hurried back to my car. I was furious, and a little scared. They’d closed ranks on me and I was either too stupid, or too naive, to see it coming. Of course they were going to stick together. It was in their best interest to do so. The old round table crew was back in action. I wasn’t going to be getting any more info out of Gerald or Dennis, but I still had my meeting with Clair Easton to look forward to. I tried not to think about the hell they had put me through back in high school. But I couldn’t help wonder what they’d do to me when they found out I was still looking into Ms. Flack’s death.

I also wondered why Dennis hadn’t gotten the job with Kingford’s baseball team. He was certainly qualified. I knew someone who could find out for me. I got on my cell phone and called the records office, asking Myra Gaines if she knew anyone in the human resources department who might know why Dennis Kirby was passed over for the trainer position.

“You’re gonna owe me big time, girlfriend,” she replied.

“That depends on if you can get me the info.”

“Are you kidding? Ain’t much that goes on around this college that I either don’t already know about or can’t find out,” she bragged.

“And?” I asked, calling her bluff.

“And, I heard that Kirby dude got passed over because he lied on his application about his last job. He didn’t resign from that job. He was fired. Guess his dumb ass didn’t think anyone would check his references, ‘cause his daddy’s a former trustee.”

“Really?”

“Yep. And before you ask me why they let him go, I don’t know. My source didn’t know that much.”

I thanked Myra and promised her a free lunch at Estelle’s. I wanted to keep
my
source happy.

I called information and got the number for Bellbrook College in San Diego, the place Dennis Kirby had worked as an athletic trainer before moving home. I dialed the number and asked the receptionist to connect me to the college’s director of athletics. The phone was answered quickly on the first ring.

“This is Mark Weber. How may I help you?” asked the man so fast I almost didn’t catch what he was saying.

“Mr. Weber, I’m calling from Ohio College. One of your previous employees, Dennis Kirby, is applying for an athletic trainer position and listed you as a reference.” I heard Mark Weber swear softly under his breath.

“What was that, Mr. Weber? I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

“Who did you say this was?” He sounded highly annoyed.

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Audrey Grant calling from Ohio College in Cleveland about your former employee, Dennis Kirby. Can you tell me what kind of an employee he was?”

Mark Weber sighed again before replying. “Frankly, I can’t imagine why the in world Dennis Kirby keeps using me as a reference when I was the one who fired him.”

“Really? Can you tell me why you let him go?” There was a long pause. At first I thought he’d hung up until he finally spoke again.

“You didn’t hear this from me, you got it?”

“Of course. We never had this conversation,” I assured him.

“There were allegations made by some players that Mr. Kirby was supplying members of the baseball team certain performance enhancing drugs,” he said in a flat voice.

“The college handled the matter internally. We fired Mr. Kirby and expelled the players involved. Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to get to a meeting. Do yourself a favor and don’t hire Dennis Kirby.” He hung up on me.

Dennis was fired for supplying college athletes with drugs, and Audrey was a closet lesbian. That just left Gerald and Cherisse. I had a pretty good idea what Gerald was hiding. I just needed confirmation from Clair Easton. But I still had an hour to kill before my appointment with her. It was time I talked to Cherisse.

Cherisse Craig still lived in the same house on Bird Lane that she’d grown up in with her parents and twin sister, Serena. It was a small house on a slab with a flat roof that made it look like a shed, with a carport instead of a garage. All the houses on her street were similar in design, the only differences being the color of each home. Many were white but with different trim on the windows and doors. But some of the homeowners had gone to extremes in trying to achieve some semblance of individuality. One person had opted for Pepto Bismo pink, another neon yellow, and yet another a deep dark blue that looked almost purple. Cherisse’s house was brown with black shutters. I was happy to see her car parked in the driveway.

I was hoping that she wasn’t still mad at me about the conversation she overheard between Dennis and me the other night and would buy my excuse that I was there to apologize. Actually, I really did need to explain that I hadn’t been laughing at what Dennis had said about her being a dandelion compared to her hothouse flower of a sister. Having a gorgeous sister, myself, I knew all too well how hurtful it was to be compared unfavorably to her.

I walked up to Cherisse’s house. I didn’t need to knock because as soon as I walked past the wind chime hanging from a hook on her porch, the tinkling sound immediately brought her to the door. She was dressed in a red and gold silk Kimono style robe. Her dreads were held back from her face with a scarf. She opened her screen door and looked past me, up and down the street before even addressing me. I quickly turned to see what she was looking at and saw nothing, except some kids playing in the yard across the street. When she finally looked at me, I could see her eyes looked a little swollen and puffy. Could she still be upset by what Dennis had said?

I walked in and immediately noticed how cold it was in the house. Her air conditioner must have been turned up full blast. I could feel the chill bumps pop up on my bare arms and legs. Cherisse flopped down on the black leather couch where she must have been lying when she heard the wind chime. The house was dark, the only light coming from the front window, and it smelled faintly of garlic.

I’d only ever been to Cherisse’s house once before and that had been to study for a history test back in high school. I remembered Cherisse and me sitting in the kitchen quizzing each other on the places, dates, and prominent figures of the French Revolution, while her parents sat watching TV in the living room. They seemed really happy to have me over. Her mother served us cookies, chips, and cream soda and would periodically poke her head through the kitchen door to see if we needed anything, her father made corny jokes that I could tell really embarrassed her. It never occurred to me at the time that they must have thought that Cherisse had finally found a friend.

Cherisse and I weren’t friends. I had been mad at my best friend, Lynette, who was busy being in love with the guy who would eventually become her first husband. When she had bailed on our plans to study for the test together, so she could sneak off and see her boyfriend, I’d impulsively asked Cherisse if she wanted to study together. I had been trying to prove that I didn’t need Lynette, and possibly piss her off in the process. In short, I had used Cherisse. I had had a nice enough time at her house, despite witnessing a hellacious fight between her parents and her sister, Serena, who had come home glassy-eyed and reeking of marijuana. But I had no intentions of ever going back. By the next day, Lynette and I were cool again, and my study session with Cherisse was forgotten. Thinking about that long ago visit embarrassed me. In retrospect, maybe I wasn’t a whole lot different from Audrey Grant and her crew.

I sat down at the other end of the couch, and Cherisse watched me through hooded eyes. The coffee table in front on the couch was littered with wadded up tissue. I noticed a prescription bottle of nasal spray and a box of Kleenex sitting on the table next to a glass of iced tea.

“Are you sure this is a good time? I can come back later if you don’t feel well.” She shook her head no.

“It’s just my allergies acting up. My doctor put me on some new medicine and it’s not working worth a damn. The only thing it does is knock me out. I just took some about twenty minutes ago, so whatever you need to talk to me about you need to make it quick.” She pulled another tissue from the pocket of her robe and blew her nose again.

“Well, first off I wanted to let you know that I wasn’t laughing at you the other night at dinner. Dennis—”

“Is going to get what he has coming to him,” said Cherisse, interrupting me. She was looking grim and determined and I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not.

“Huh?”

“He’s such an asshole.” She shrugged sleepily. “People like him always get what they deserve eventually, and that’s a fact. Trust me. He
will
be getting what he deserves.”

“What about Ms. Flack? Do you think she got what she deserved?” She looked at me like she could barely keep her eyes open.

“Ms. Flack? Well, yeah. I guess so. Why?” she asked before lapsing into a sudden sneezing fit. I realized I needed to make this quick.

“I think someone killed Ms. Flack. I don’t think her death was an accident.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Cherisse were you being blackmailed?” That at least seemed to wake her up a little. She pulled herself up to a semi-sitting position.

I explained my theory about Ms. Flack’s need for money and about Audrey Grant’s confession that she was being blackmailed. Cherisse looked like she might cry.

“I trusted that bitch. Are you sure she’s the one who was behind it all?” I just nodded.

“You paid, right?” I asked. She nodded.

“She knew all about why I left the job I got right after high school. That’s why she helped me get that job with Julian. She knew about me having an affair with my boss. He’s married. I ran into her at the post office one day last year right after I quit my job when I finally realized he would never leave his wife. I was upset and she asked me what was wrong. I only told her because I needed someone to talk to. I don’t have many friends.” She looked down at her lap. I felt guilty again.

I knew Cherisse used to be a legal secretary with the DA’s office. If she’d had an affair with one of the DA’s she worked for, it could ruin his career, not to mention his marriage. For Cherisse to have paid a blackmailer must mean she was still in love with her boss and didn’t want to cause him any pain. It also blew my theory about Ms. Flack not knowing what everyone’s secrets were. If she knew about Cherisse’s married lover, then she must have also known about what the rest of the reunion committee’s secrets were. But, why try and blackmail me? What did she think she had on me?

“And you never knew it was her?”

“I thought it was someone I used to work with at the DA’s office. The person who called me said there was a videotape of my boss and me making love in his office and if I didn’t pay, they’d give it to the media, and his wife. I had no idea it was her. I swear.” She had another sneezing fit and reached for the box of Kleenex. It was empty and she started to push herself up from the couch.

“You just lie still. I’ll get you some more tissues. Where are they?”

“Bathroom.” She pointed down the hallway.

I headed down the hall and quickly located the tiny bathroom. There was an unopened box of tissues sitting on the back of the pink toilet on top of a crocheted doily. I grabbed it and accidentally knocked a wicker basket that was sitting on the counter by the sink onto the floor, spilling the contents everywhere.

“What was that?” Cherisse called out from the living room.