Authors: Lynette Eason
“That's the problem,” Alex said. “It might have been, and it might not have been. I hope this time we find the answer.”
“What can I do to help?”
Alex settled back in his chair and took a deep breath. “If you heard Grace's report about Mr. Mitchell's death, then you know he thought his son was involved in some secret society here at the school and that they killed him. Have you ever suspected there might be a club that operates in the shadows out of the administration's sight?”
Mr. Donner thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Soon after I took this job, I heard rumors of such a group. I investigated it and never found anything that would make me think such a group existed.”
Alex pursed his lips and thought about what the principal had said for a moment. “Would it surprise you to know such a group was talked about often in the locker room?”
The man's eyes grew wide and he nodded. “Really? I talked to students I knew to be trustworthy, and they all assured me no such group existed.”
“It could have just been kids talking without any real knowledge of a secret society.” He glanced at Grace. “But it's still difficult to understand why Landon would suddenly drop all his old friends and associate himself with a new group.”
“Did he do that?” Mr. Donner asked.
Alex glanced at Grace. “Tell him about Landon's friends.”
She scooted to the edge of her chair. “Landon and I dated up until our senior year when he suddenly broke up with me. He also dropped all his old friends and started hanging out with a new group. I lost track of them after high school, and we wondered if you had any information on where they are now.”
“I try to keep up with our graduates for our alumni council.” He turned to his computer. “Give me a name, and I'll look him up.”
“The first one is Sam Jefferson,” Grace said.
Mr. Donner smiled. “I don't have to look him up. Sam is a lawyer with offices downtown. He's done really well for himself. In fact, my wife and I have used him when we've needed legal advice.”
Alex pulled a small notepad from his pocket and wrote down Sam's information. “That's good to hear. What about Dustin Shelton?”
Mr. Donner sat back in his chair, a sad expression on his face. “I don't have to look him up, either. Dustin disappeared while on a trip to the Gulf Coast a few years after he graduated. I attended the memorial service his family had.”
Alex relaxed his grip on the pen poised to write Dustin's address and stared at Mr. Donner. “I remember Dustin. He was in one of my classes. I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Yes, it was very sad. His family has never recovered from not finding his body.” He shifted in his chair. “Who's the next one, Grace?”
“Jeremy Baker.”
“Um, I don't remember him, but I'm sure he's in the alumni database.” He typed the name into the computer, and his eyebrows rose as the information came on the screen. “This is a coincidence.”
Alex leaned forward. “What is?”
Mr. Donner looked up from the computer screen. “Jeremy died in California about five years ago.” His forehead wrinkled, and he looked back to the screen. Suddenly he nodded. “I do remember something about this young man. I remember some of the teachers talking about a former student who was found shot to death in his apartment in California. The police thought he'd been killed in a home invasion.”
Alex and Grace exchanged startled glances before he wrote the latest information down. Then he swallowed and turned back to Mr. Donner. “What about Clay Mercer?”
He smiled. “Oh, I see Clay from time to time, although he lives in Nashville now. He's a political advisor and works with the governor's office.”
Alex scribbled on the notepad and nodded. “What about Billy Warren?”
“Billy Warren,” Mr. Donner murmured as he typed in the name. “Here he is. Oh, no. He's dead also. He was killed in a car wreck in Colorado four years ago.” He glanced from Alex to Grace. “Those were the boys Landon had started hanging out with?”
“Yes.” Alex's stomach roiled from the thoughts racing through his head. Of the six boys who had been friends, four of them were dead. The odds against that happening must be astronomical. He closed the notepad and glanced back at Mr. Donner. “We really appreciate your time today, but I know you're ready to begin your Christmas vacation. We won't take up any more of your time. It's been great being back here.”
The principal stood and held out his hand. “Don't you two stay away so long before you come back to visit. If I can help you any more, please let me know.”
Alex shook his hand and then Grace stood and did the same. “Thanks, Mr. Donner. It's been great seeing you today.”
“It's always good to see you, Grace. And by the way, you know our annual fund-raiser is coming up in February. It would be great if you could maybe play it up on your newscast after Christmas. Let your viewers know the school you attended needs the support of the community if we are to continue providing quality programs to our students.”
Grace smiled. “I'll see what I can do, Mr. Donner.”
She turned toward the door, and Alex followed her from the room. They were almost to the front door of the school when a voice rang out in the hallway. “Grace Kincaid! What are you doing here?”
They whirled to face the man coming toward them. “Mr. Caldwell!” Grace hurried to him, and he enveloped her in a big hug. She pulled back and studied him at arm's length. “It's so good to see you. I haven't seen you in years.”
Alex walked to where the two stood and stuck out his hand. “Mr. Caldwell, I don't know whether you remember me or not. I'm Alex Crowne.”
The man grabbed Alex's hand and pumped it up and down. “Of course I remember. Who could forget that winning touchdown pass you threw in the state championship your senior year?” He leaned closer to Grace conspiratorially and said in a loud whisper, “We haven't won a title since then.”
Grace laughed and looped her arm through Mr. Caldwell's. “Alex, this is my favorite teacher from my high school years. This man turned me on to writing and made me want to be a journalist. I owe him so much.”
Mr. Caldwell gazed down at her and patted her hand. “You owe me nothing. It was a pleasure to teach a student who hung on my every word. I worried all the time that I would give out some wrong information in class and you would correct me.”
Grace shook her head. “I wouldn't have known if you had. I was too busy trying to be the perfect student in your class.”
He nodded and glanced at Alex. “I don't think I ever had you in my class, Alex.”
“No, I was sorry I never got you for a teacher. Grace talked about you all the time. I guess you knew Landon Mitchell well, too, since he was your student.”
“I did.”
“And he was a good student?”
“He...” Mr. Caldwell hesitated. “He was a good student until about halfway through his junior year. Then something happened to him. It was like he didn't have his mind on his studies, and his grades took a nosedive. I talked to him and to his father, but nothing I said helped. By the middle of his senior year, I was afraid he might not graduate.”
“I know,” Grace said. “I saw it happening, too, but I couldn't figure it out. Did you have any theories concerning this abrupt change in him?”
Mr. Caldwell looked over his shoulder as if to make sure no one could hear what he was about to say. Then he leaned closer. “Of course the first thing you think about is drugs. He had all the symptoms of drug useâfailing grades, avoiding old friends, skipping school, getting in trouble all the time. And then I heard he was involved with some secret group here at the school.”
Alex's eyes grew wide. “What secret group?”
“I don't know who was in the group, but some of the kids told me they all had wolves tattooed on their shoulders. I was afraid they were selling drugs, but Mr. Donner wouldn't listen to me.”
Alex and Grace exchanged quick glances. “Did you tell Mr. Donner about what the kids were saying?”
“Yes, but he dismissed it and wouldn't investigate. When I told him, he looked at me, laughed and said, âPatrick, don't be ridiculous. There are no drugs in this school.' He doesn't want the school board to think there are any problems in this school, and he tries to keep quiet anything that might blemish the school's reputation and cut down on donations from alumni. He's been this way ever since he came here.”
“So he buries his head in the sand and hopes things will work out?” Grace asked.
Mr. Caldwell nodded. “Yes. If he had taken my concerns seriously and allowed me to find out more, we might have prevented the problem we have now.”
“And what kind of problem is that?” Alex asked.
“Drugs. Drugs are everywhere in this school, and the problem gets worse every day. The administration refuses to acknowledge it, and teachers can't fight it on their own. I'm thinking of retiring at the end of this year. I've already cut back to part-time, but I know it's time for me to do something else.”
Grace's forehead wrinkled, and she grabbed Mr. Caldwell's arm. “What will you do?”
He shook his head. “I don't know, but I can't take much more of the atmosphere around here.”
“I'm so sorry,” Grace said. “The students are losing a great teacher.”
Mr. Caldwell straightened to his full height. “My time here is drawing to a close. Somebody else is going to have to take up the fight.” He glanced at his watch. “Oh, my. I didn't realize it's so late. I have some Christmas gifts to pick up on my way home. They're for some of the residents at a retirement home where I volunteer.”
“That's a very nice thing for you to do,” Grace said.
He shrugged and smiled. “I have no family, and neither do some of them. So we've become each other's family. I'll spend Christmas with them.”
Grace grasped his hand once more. “You're a good man, Mr. Caldwell. It was great to see you again.”
He smiled and took her hand with both of his. “It was good seeing you, Grace. Don't stay away so long again.”
“I won't, and I hope you and your friends at the retirement home have a merry Christmas.”
“I'm sure we will, and merry Christmas to both of you.” Mr. Caldwell turned and hurried down the hall to the door that led to the faculty parking lot. When he exited, Grace turned to Alex. “Mr. Caldwell always seemed so sad when I was in his class. He talked about having no wife or children and how teaching was his life. Volunteering at a retirement home helps fill that void I suppose.”
“I guess so,” Alex replied.
She tilted her head and looked at him. “But his story is a bit different from Mr. Donner's. I wonder why the principal lied to us about never having heard about a secret group.”
Alex pursed his lips and stared in the direction of the office. “I don't know, but he did give us some new information about Landon's friends. I think our next step should be to question Sam Jefferson. I'll call his office in the morning and get an appointment for us to see him. For now, let's go see what they're serving at the Kincaid house for dinner tonight.”
“It sounds like you're becoming more comfortable being around my family. I'm glad. I've wanted that for years.”
Alex didn't say anything as she headed toward the door. Was he becoming more comfortable with her family? If he was, he needed to be careful. His experience with the Kincaids had only brought him heartache in the past, and it could happen again.
As much as he loved Memphis, maybe his father was right. That job in Florida might be just what he needed to start a new life. Just he and his father living where there was no cold weather and you could walk on the beach every day of the year. The more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him.
EIGHT
T
he minute she and Alex walked through the door at the law offices of Jefferson, Brooks and Dunbar the next morning Grace knew their old schoolmate Sam had done all right for himself. The waiting area resonated with the unspoken message one needed a fat bank account to afford this firm's high retainers and huge billing hours.
Grace slowed her steps as she followed Alex into the room and let her gaze drift over the large, framed photographs of breathtaking scenes hanging on the walls. The huge pictures offered a panoramic view of some of the most famous places in the world, places she'd always wanted to visit. Leather couches and chairs with tables beside them were scattered across the area where several people who Grace assumed to be clients sat reading newspapers or magazines.
A huge Christmas tree, its white lights twinkling like tiny diamonds and ornaments dangling from every branch, took up a whole corner of the massive room. The halo of the angel at the top touched the ceiling, and packages wrapped in gold paper sat underneath. A cart next to the tree was loaded with coffee carafes, Christmas cookies, pastries and fruit.
The receptionist smiled at them as she and Alex approached her desk. “May I help you?”
Alex pulled out his badge and showed it to the young woman. “I'm Detective Crowne with the Memphis Police. This is Grace Kincaid from WKIZ. I called earlier this morning. Mr. Jefferson is expecting us.”
The woman's smile grew larger. “Mr. Jefferson told me you were coming. He's with a client right now, but I'll let you know when he's available. In the meantime, help yourself to the food on the cart.”
Alex nodded and headed to the coffee cart, but Grace stepped closer to the receptionist's desk. “I couldn't help but notice all these beautiful framed photographs on the wall. I'd love to have some for my home. Would you mind telling me where you bought them?”
The woman laughed and shook her head. “I'm afraid you can't buy them anywhere. They're all Mr. Jefferson's work.”
“Really? Sam shot all those pictures?”
“Yes. He's quite the photographer, and he loves to travel. He took them all while he was on trips.”
“I'll have to tell him how beautiful they are,” Grace murmured. She glanced around at Alex who balanced a cup of coffee in one hand and a Christmas cookie with thick icing in the other as he eased onto a sofa.
He glanced up as she sat down beside him. “This cookie is good. Want one?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“They have eggnog, too.”
“I'll wait. It's almost lunchtime.”
“I know, but I didn't have time for breakfast this morning. I need something to tide me over until we go to lunch.”
His words left a question in her mind. Did he mean they would eat together or go their separate ways after seeing Sam? She directed her eyes to her hands clenched in her lap. “You've done so much for me over the past few days, I'd like to take you to lunch.”
He washed a bite of cookie down with a swig of coffee and nodded. “Okay. Where would you like to go?”
She thought for a moment before she answered. “A new tea room just opened down on Madison. Laura and I had lunch there the other day, and the food was delicious. They have all kinds of salads and sandwiches.”
He swallowed another sip of coffee. “Do they have barbecue?”
She frowned. “Barbecue? I don't think so.”
“So they don't have
all kinds
of sandwiches. Just chick food that's on some kind of bread I can't pronounce and a veggie substitute inside instead of meat.”
Her face grew warm, and she leaned closer. “Well, pardon me. I forgot you live and breathe barbecue. Tell me where you want to go, and I'll take you there.”
He laughed, and several people in the waiting area turned to look at them. “I'm sorry, Grace. I couldn't resist teasing you a bit. You always wanted to introduce me to the culinary delights of Memphis as you called them, but I'm still a meat and potatoes kind of guy. And there's nothing better to me than Memphis barbecue.”
She burst out laughing at the twinkle in his eye. “I know, Alex, and I won't try to change you. Since I'm treating you, we'll go wherever you want. Where will it be?”
He studied her for a moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. “I think I'd like to try the tea room on Madison. Maybe it's time for some changes in my life.”
His gaze caressed her face as it traveled from her eyes to her lips, where it lingered for a moment before he took a quick breath and settled back on the sofa. Grace eased back into the cushions, picked up a magazine from the table next to the couch and held it in front of her face. What had just happened between her and Alex? Just now they'd laughed and joked together as they had years ago. Was it possible they could become friends again?
Before she could dwell any longer on the relationship changes she and Alex appeared to be experiencing, the receptionist rose from her desk and motioned for them. “Mr. Jefferson will see you now.”
Alex drained the last drop of coffee from his cup and rose to follow Grace. When they reached the desk, the young woman took the cup and set it on a tray beside the door before she led them down a long hallway. They stopped in front of a mahogany door, and she knocked.
“Come in.” The muffled voice came from inside.
She opened the door, stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. Grace eased into the room with Alex right behind her. Sam Jefferson rose from the chair behind his desk and held out his hand. “Alex, Grace. It's good to see you again.” He shook both their hands and motioned them to the chairs in front of his desk, then he sat down.
Alex propped his elbows on the arms of his chair and leaned forward. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, Sam. From the looks of people waiting, it must be a busy day around here.”
Sam shook his head. “No more than usual. But I always have time for old friends. I don't think I've seen you since we graduated.” He glanced at Grace. “Of course I see you on the news every day, but that's not the same. How have you been doing?”
Grace smiled. “I'm fine.”
He leaned back in his chair. “And how's your father doing? I heard about the drive-by shooting. I hope he's recovered and doing all right.”
“He lived, but he'll spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. That's been difficult for him to accept, but I think he has now.”
Sam's eyes grew wide. “I had no idea.” He stared at her for a moment before he cleared his throat and turned to Alex. “And I read in the paper you're heading up a new unit at the police department with Brad Austin and another detective.”
Alex nodded. “A Cold Case Unit. Seth Dawtry is the other officer who works with Brad and me. In fact, Grace and I are here today about a case the police have never closed.”
“Oh? Which one?”
“Landon Mitchell's death.”
Sam's face paled, and he clasped his hands on top of his desk. “I thought Landon's death was ruled a suicide.”
Alex shook his head. “Suicide was suspected but never proved. If you saw Grace's coverage earlier this week, you know Landon's father jumped from the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge. Before he did, he made some accusations we're looking into.”
Sam shifted in his chair and narrowed his eyes. “What kind of accusations?”
“He said he suspected Landon was involved with a secret group of some kind before his death. Mr. Mitchell found lots of money hidden in his son's room, and he also saw a wolf tattooed on his shoulder.” Alex paused and took a breath. “We thought you might know something about these things.”
Sam regarded Alex with an aloof expression and shrugged. “Why would I know anything? I barely knew Landon.”
Grace sat up straight and gasped. “Sam, how can you say that? Our senior year you were with him all the time.”
Sam directed a frosty glare in her direction, and a shiver went up Grace's spine. “I had a lot of friends. Landon was one of them, but we didn't hang out together after school. In fact, I found him rather boring.”
“So these other friends you had,” Alex interrupted. “Would they have been Jeremy Baker, Billy Warren, Clay Mercer and Dustin Shelton?”
Sam picked up a pencil from the desk and began to roll it in his fingers. “Yes, they were friends of mine.”
“Did you know that Jeremy, Billy and Dustin are all dead, too?”
“Yes. I was sad when I heard about each of them.”
Alex leaned forward. “Don't you think it's strange that four boys you were friends with in school have all died.”
Sam shook his head. “Not necessarily. Everybody dies, Alex. Some sooner than others.”
“Do you know if any of them had a wolf tattooed on their shoulders?” Alex's stare didn't waver from Sam's face.
Sam didn't flinch but returned an icy glare. “I have no idea.”
Alex let his gaze drop to Sam's shoulder. “What about you? Do you have a wolf tattooed on yours?”
Sam rose to his feet, tossed the pencil he held to the desk, and glanced at his watch. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut our visit short. I have paying clients waiting to see me.”
Alex and Grace rose as Sam walked over to the door and opened it. “It was good seeing you two again. Maybe we'll meet at the next reunion of our graduating class.”
Alex trailed Grace to the door and stopped in front of Sam. “I'm going to find out what happened to Landon, Sam. If you think of anything that might help, give me a call at the station.”
“I will.”
“Goodbye, Sam,” Grace said as she and Alex walked from the office.
They had only taken a few steps when Sam's voice called out. “Oh, Alex.”
They stopped and turned to face him. “Yes?” Alex said.
“For your information I've always been afraid of needles. I have no tattoo.”
Before they could answer, he closed the door. They looked at the door then back to each other and walked from the office. They didn't speak until they'd climbed into Alex's car. Then Grace swiveled in her seat and faced him. “What did you make of our visit?”
Alex smiled and shook his head. “He knows something. He tried to hide it under his courtroom facade, but my question about the tattoo rattled him.”
“What will we do now?”
“Let's give him a few days to stew over what we told him. Then we'll come back. In the meantime, how would you like to take a trip to Nashville to see Clay?”
“That sounds like a great idea. When do you want to go?”
“I don't know. With the holidays Clay may be back in Memphis. I'll check tomorrow and let you know.” He turned the key in the ignition. “Now how about some lunch? I'm starved.”
Grace laughed and nodded. “You're the chauffeur. Go wherever you like.”
He grinned, and Grace's heart fluttered at the boyish teasing that sparkled in his eyes. From somewhere deep inside her a memory surfaced. She remembered how she used to run the tip of her index finger down his jawline, and how he would smile in contentment when she did. She couldn't move for a moment, and then she blinked and took a deep breath. She couldn't let herself think like that. Right now she needed to concentrate on finding the man whose attempts on her life had turned it into a living nightmare. Then she could go back to her peaceful life, and Alex could go to Florida.
* * *
Alex leaned back into the plush sofa cushions in the Kincaids' den and stretched his legs out in front of him. Dinner at the Kincaid house had been delicious as he'd known it would be, and conversation with Harrison had proved interesting. He couldn't believe he was actually beginning to like the man. Now as he waited for Grace to return from helping her mother put her father to bed he was glad for a few minutes alone to reflect on what was happening in his life.
A week ago he'd been content to go to work every day and search old files in the hopes some piece of overlooked information would leap off the page and send him in pursuit of someone who'd gotten away with murder years before. Then he'd been called to the bridge where a man was threatening suicide, and Grace had reentered his life.
Now he was beginning to feel comfortable around her again, and he couldn't let that happen. He didn't believe for one minute that she'd stay in Memphis if her father's condition improved. She'd be knocking at the networks' doors again to get her old job back, and he really couldn't blame her. She was the total package when it came to what the networks wanted in an anchor. She was beautiful, smart and had the ability to connect with viewers.
He jumped to his feet, strode to the window and looked outside. The question remained, what was he going to do? Did he really want to give up his job in Memphis to go to Florida? He really missed his father and would like to be with him again. He sighed and leaned against the window frame. It wouldn't hurt to apply for the job down there. There was no guarantee he'd get it. Perhaps he should apply and see what happened.
“What are you doing?” Grace's voice startled him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see her entering the room.
“Just looking outside. Did you get your father settled?”
She nodded. “He said to say good-night for him and tell you he was glad you came to dinner again. He's enjoying getting to know you.”
“It's good to see this side of him, too.” A glow lit her face, and he let his gaze drift over her. She'd never looked more beautiful. He swallowed and turned back to look outside. “The weatherman says we may get some more snow next week.”
She eased up beside him and looked out into the night. “I hope so. Do you remember how we used to wish for snow at Christmas when we were children?”
They stood so close he could smell her perfume, which gave off a fruity fragrance. “I remember, but we're not children anymore, Grace.”