Devil's Food Cake (12 page)

“Well,” Sadie said, wanting to be honest, but kind. “She’s a bit traumatized, as anyone would be, but she’s holding it together all right. It was nice of you to invite her over.”

Amber nodded. “Of course,” she said dismissively. “Besides, I’ve got two junior basketball games tomorrow, and I was going to ask her to babysit anyway.”

Sadie thought the last thing Gayle needed right now was to babysit. And the last thing Amber needed was a recent trauma victim watching over her children. After a moment, however, she offered a polite smile and tried to convince herself it was none of her business.

“What’s this?” Amber asked, moving toward the table and leaning toward the yearbook open on the table.

“Shawn wanted to see a picture of Damon Mortenson,” Sadie explained, walking behind the younger woman. The word “Princess” was appliquéd on the rear of Amber’s sweatpants and Sadie forced herself to look away. “He was pretty young when it all happened and doesn’t remember a whole lot.” Shawn pushed the book toward her and Amber gave him a grateful smile.

“I wish I didn’t,” Amber said.

Suddenly, Sadie realized Amber was the perfect person to put a little more flesh on the bones of the boy’s memory. She glanced at Shawn who winked his silent agreement. No wonder he’d relinquished the book so quickly. He’d already figured out that Amber was a good resource.

“Um, Shawn, honey,” Sadie said sweetly. “Would you mind getting the two cake boxes from the backseat of my car? I’m sure Amber’s family would love to take one home.”

Amber looked up at Sadie and smiled. “That is so generous of you,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sadie said, waving away the younger woman’s thanks, despite the fact she was counting on that gratitude to serve her well.

Shawn gave his mother an annoyed look, but did as he was asked.

“So,” Sadie said casually once Shawn had left and Amber had turned back to the yearbook. “You were in the same grade with Damon, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod, still scanning pages.

“Did you have any classes with him your junior year?”

Amber was quiet for a moment before she nodded, still turning pages. “He was in my English class—well, until he dropped out.” Amber giggled, pointing at her ninth-grade picture. “Can you believe my hair? It’s a good thing I didn’t smoke. I could have incinerated myself if the hairspray had caught fire.”

Sadie kept to herself that dried hairspray wasn’t very flammable, since it was the alcohol content and propellant that would feed a flame, and most of that would be evaporated by the time hairspray was dry. “You said he was in your English class,” Sadie said, drawing the topic to Damon again.

“Yeah,” Amber said, turning the page and chuckling at someone else’s picture.

“What was he like?” Sadie heard the back door open as Shawn let himself in. That was fast, but then he wouldn’t want to miss this conversation either. Shawn placed the two pink boxes on the counter.

“Damon?” Amber asked, squinching up her face as if trying to remember. “Well, he was . . . weird.”

“Weird, how?” Shawn asked. He returned to his seat at the table, but was watching Amber with just as much interest as Sadie was. She hoped he didn’t blow their cover by acting
too
interested. It was hard to balance the right amount of casual interest and Sadie wasn’t sure he was well enough trained to do the job right.

Amber took a breath. “Well, he was always doing these creepy drawings in his notebook—like devils and skeletons and stuff. He was totally Goth and didn’t talk to anyone. But Mrs. Veeter loved him—that was weird too.”

“Diane Veeter?” Sadie asked, her thoughts shifting ever so slightly. Diane Veeter had won the Colorado Teacher of the Year award right around the time Sadie herself had returned to teaching. They’d met at different functions throughout the years and developed a casual friendship. Unfortunately, Diane had been killed in a car accident eight or nine years ago. It had been a tragic loss not only for Diane’s husband, Brian, and their grown children, but for all the students she supported so passionately over the years.

Amber looked up. “Oh, that’s right, you were a teacher too, huh?”

Sadie nodded, not wanting to get too far off topic. “I wonder what it was Diane—I mean, Mrs. Veeter—liked about him so much.”

Shawn had clasped his hands on the table, looking a bit too studious. Sadie would need to give the boy lessons when this was all over.

“Well, for all his strangeness, Damon was a great writer,” Amber said casually, turning another page. “Mrs. Veeter read a couple of his things out loud in class and they were really good—deep, ya know? But it totally embarrassed him when she did it so she stopped.” Amber looked up at Sadie. “Why so many questions?”

“Well,” Sadie said, settling on the truth, or most of it anyway. “A man was killed tonight, and he’s connected to Damon’s father. I think a lot of people are going to be asking questions about Damon.” She glanced at the hallway, wondering when Gayle might appear and thus bring the conversation to an end.

“It’s weird he went to the dance,” Shawn interjected. Sadie threw him a little smile of encouragement. Good segue. “I mean, with him having dropped out of school and everything.”

“I know, right?” Amber looked at Shawn, a more serious set to her face, and then back to Sadie. “It was intense. To find out they were both dead the next day was awful. Josh really beat himself up over the fact that he’d left them up at Pearson’s Pond. But his date had a curfew.”

“Josh?” Sadie repeated.

“Yeah,” Amber said. “Josh Hender. He was Damon’s best friend, well, only friend really.”

Josh Hender,
Sadie repeated in her mind. She knew a lot of people from having lived in Garrison for so many years, but Hender didn’t seem familiar.

“Was Josh your age too?” Shawn asked.

Amber nodded. “Here, I’ll show you his picture.” She flipped a few pages in the yearbook and Sadie moved closer to her while Shawn stood up from the table and headed back down the hallway—again. Now where was he going? But Sadie couldn’t allow herself to get distracted.

Amber turned one more page and ran her finger down the names on the edge of the page. She stopped and tapped at the photo, turning the book so Sadie could get a better look.

She squinted at the picture of a skinny, fourteen-year-old boy with a flattop and metallic smile. Sadie tried to recall if she knew this kid, but she came up blank. The black-and-white picture was old, and yet there was
something
familiar there.

Shawn returned holding yet another yearbook. He put it on the table and sat down, cracking open the book immediately. After a few seconds, Shawn pushed the book in Sadie’s direction, pointing at one specific picture.

A shiver ran down Sadie’s spine as she stared at the photo. It was Josh Hender’s senior picture. He was wearing a tux and, although his hair was shorter and lighter in the photo, his skin a bit tanner, and he wasn’t wearing glasses, Sadie was almost positive Josh Hender was the photographer who’d nearly knocked her on her tush earlier that evening.

Chapter 13

It took a few seconds for Sadie to get over her shock, and she shot Shawn a look she hoped would communicate to him that she’d made a powerful discovery.

“What’s Josh like?” she asked, trying to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

“Oh, I haven’t seen him in years,” Amber said, turning another page and scanning more photos. She leaned down and put her elbows on the table, causing her backside to stick out. Sadie, again, tried not to look. It was not a flattering position. “But in high school he was okay—kinda quiet. We had a couple classes together, but weren’t really in the same social group, ya know.”

“What group was he in?” Shawn asked.

“Well,
I
was a cheerleader.” Amber shrugged her shoulders as if that explained everything. “Josh was into art and video games.” She looked up at them and made a face. “Not my thing.”

“So they were both artsy,” Shawn summed up. “Damon and Josh.”

“I guess,” Amber said. “But not in the same way. Josh was just kind of in the background, but Damon was creepy—everybody thought so. Did you know he brought his backpack to the dance? They think he had the shotgun in there the whole time. Thank goodness no one hassled him. Can you imagine?”

“It would have been horrible,” Sadie said, remembering how the backpack detail had been a big deal in the papers. It was also the reason why the school board ruled that no bags bigger than a purse were allowed at school dances anymore.

“Damon didn’t hang out with any other kids?” Shawn asked.

“Nope.” Amber casually turned another page. “Unless you count the times he got beat up. I heard some guys stuck his head in the toilet just before he dropped out. Maybe that’s why he brought the gun to the dance.” She clucked her tongue and turned another page before laughing out loud again. “The Dog Squad,” she said, shaking her head at the drill team photo. “Seriously, they look like a bunch of cross-dressers.”

Sadie shook her head at the reality of Damon’s life back then. Kids just didn’t understand. The shooting at Columbine High School, only a few hours away from Garrison, had occurred only a couple years before Damon’s shooting. One would think a tragedy that close to home would have taught more of a lesson. But high school was high school, for better and, too often, for worse. It sounded like Damon’s experience was certainly worse than most.

“What did Josh do after high school?” Shawn asked.

Amber shrugged. “Dropped off the face of the earth pretty much. I remember him talking about going to art school back East, but the kid barely passed the geometry class we had together. I don’t see how he’d have the discipline for college. Not everyone is college material, ya know. Anyway, I didn’t keep up on him, and he didn’t come to the five-year reunion.”

But he was in town tonight,
Sadie thought. Interesting.

Gayle suddenly appeared in the doorway, drawing everyone’s attention. Her green pumps were peeking out from under the lounge pants and her dress was thrown over her arm. “Sadie’s feet are too small,” she said when Amber made a face at the heels. “I can’t fit into any of her shoes.”

Difficult though it was, Sadie put her thoughts about Josh Hender on the back burner and moved to give her friend a hug good-bye. “She’s going to ask you to babysit in the morning,” Sadie whispered in Gayle’s ear while they embraced. Gayle groaned softly. “You can tell her we have plans if you need to.” Gayle nodded as Sadie pulled back. Sadie looked her friend over, not wanting to argue in front of Amber but wishing she could convince Gayle to stay. A good night’s sleep and a full breakfast would be far more beneficial than having her monster grandchildren nipping at her heels.

“I’ll be okay,” Gayle assured her, answering Sadie’s questions without tipping off Amber. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Or sooner if you need anything.”
Like a rescue mission via helicopter,
Sadie thought.

“I will,” Gayle said.

Within a minute, Amber’s car pulled away from the curb. Sadie shut the door and turned to face her son.

“Josh Hender was the photographer,” she said as quickly as she could.

“Damon’s best friend?” Shawn looked back at the yearbook in front of him. “Are you sure?”

Sadie came to stand behind him in order to see the picture again, but like the first time she’d seen it, a shiver raced up her spine. “I’d bet you an Evil Chicken dinner that’s him.”

Evil Chicken was exactly that—evil, and destined to clog arteries and send blood sugar levels through the roof. And yet the chicken and bacon dish was oh so delicious. Not to mention one of Shawn’s favorites.

Shawn looked back at the picture, almost convinced. “This was taken, like, ten years ago,” he commented.

“Nine,” Sadie clarified. “And did you miss the part where I bet you an Evil Chicken dinner? And I’ll make it tonight.”

Chapter 14