Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville 4)

The principal, Dave Byrd, was a tall lean man with dark hair. He wore dark pants, a white shirt, and a sweater vest that didn’t quite hide the belly paunch. Late thirties, he moved easily as he extended a hand to Jake.

Jake admired the man’s firm handshake. “Thanks for seeing me.”

“Sure. Come on back to my office.” The principal turned to the boys. “Patrick and Ryan. Go back to your classrooms. No more trouble.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the principal closed the door to his office he grinned. “They’re good boys, but they got into a scuffle at assembly this morning. Uncharacteristic enough that I’ve decided not to call their parents, though I’ve not told them.”

Jake ran his fingers along his tie, making sure it was straight. “In my day, fights boiled down to pride or a girl.”

“That hasn’t changed a bit. A cute girl can make smart boys lose whatever common sense they’ve managed to scrape together.”

Jake took a seat while scanning the room’s wood paneled walls covered with a few fancy-looking diplomas and pictures of the principal at various stages of his career. Jake earned his college degree going to school at night and weekends in Boston. The first to earn a degree in his family, he framed the diploma in a nice cherry frame with special acid free matting. It was a keeper and hung in the second bedroom of his house that was set up as a den. He often paused to look at it because it reminded him he was one stubborn bastard.

“I pulled the records of Amber Ryder, Bethany Reed, and Mike Marlowe. I’ve spent the last hour reading through them to familiarize myself with their time at the school. I’ve been here only a year, so I never knew any of them. I did locate a faculty member who was here during that time and she’s available to speak to you. She should be here any minute.”

Jake sat back, resting his ankle on his knee. “That’s great. So did anything jump out at you when you read the files?”

“Amber was the smartest of the three by far. As I mentioned on the phone, her test results were off the charts. She did fairly well in classes, low As and a few high Bs, but all her teachers believed she could have done better. She didn’t fully apply herself.” He flipped a page. “She was on the chess team. She did well enough to lead the school to the semifinals.”

“She didn’t win?”

“Close. Her coach thought she could have won it, but she made a few strategic mistakes at the end that cost her the match.”

“If I had a nickel for every time I heard that as a teenager.”

“Getting kids to focus and see the big picture is a constant struggle.”

“Did she get into trouble?”

“No. She was never a discipline problem, or at least, she wasn’t caught.”

“Why do you say that?”

He leaned forward, threading his fingers together. “The smart ones rarely get caught.”

“Did she do anything to raise a red flag?”

“There’s nothing in her file.” He flipped through the pages.

“What about the other kids?”

“Bethany was a model student. No trouble. Good grades. No clubs. She kept to herself. Her interview skills needed work. In fact, she was denied early admission to a few colleges because she did so poorly on the interview.”

“I understand she and Amber were friends.”

“That, I don’t know. And Mike played football. Mike did get himself into some trouble his junior year. It involved a prank. He brought a couple dozen chickens to school and released them at lunchtime. Caused quite a stir. Teachers still talk about it today. According to the file, his father came by the school and paid for all the damages. He also made a sizable contribution to the school shortly after. No charges were filed.”

“No record to get in the way of his college entrance chances.”

“None. He was also the star quarterback on the football team. Led the school to a couple of big victories his junior year. He played only four games his senior year before he disappeared.” The principal shook his head. “We’re all still processing what you told me on the phone this morning.”

The principal’s phone buzzed and he picked it up. “Great. Send her in.” Hanging up, he rose. “That’s Mrs. Garfield. She teaches English and knew all three kids. She might be of help.”

“Excellent.” Jake rose as the door opened to a woman in her early forties. Short black hair, sturdy build, and a skirt and jacket created the impression of a corporate executive rather than a private school teacher.

She held out a manicured hand as the principal made the introductions. “We’re all so sorry to hear about the grim discovery. What can I do to help?”

“Gathering background on the victims right now,” Jake said. “If you can, tell me what you know about Amber, Mike, and Bethany.” He indicated for her to take the seat next to his and when she did, the men took their seats.

She folded her arms. “They were about as different as three kids could be. I was surprised when the science teacher told me they were working together. They were an unlikely group.”

“Why’s that?” Jake asked.

“To put it bluntly, you had a scholarship kid, a nerd, and a jock. Most kids at this age stay in their cliques.”

“What can you tell me about Amber?”

“She was from a different world as far as these kids were concerned. Those who have big money live in a different world than the average person. We wear school uniforms at St. Vincent, but a glance at the jewelry, backpacks, shoes, watches, or the cars they drive tells everyone who has what and how much. A pecking order. Though some of the students might have liked her, none really accepted her.”

“What did you think about Amber?”

“I liked her,” Mrs. Garfield said, crossing her legs. “She wanted to be accepted, even if it appeared she didn’t seem to care. It mattered a lot to her. A lot.”

“Did she date anyone?” Jake asked.

“She dated quite a few boys. She was growing into a striking young woman, and she liked the attention she received f

rom them. It empowered her. I cautioned her once about being careful, but she laughed and said she knew exactly what she was doing.”

“What about Mike Marlowe? They hook up?”

“I saw them a couple of times. Kissing.” She plucked a stray string from her hem. “I hear she’s back in town.”

“She was mugged last night. Apparently, someone jumped her and she struck her head hard against a curb. She needed a dozen stitches, but she’ll survive.”

Mrs. Garfield’s gaze softened with sadness. “Does anyone know she’s back? There were many who didn’t appreciate her being the lone survivor.”

“I’m not sure who she’s told. She’s staying with her mother. What about Mike? Those two hang out besides the kissing?”

“Not in school from what I could see. But I heard students talking about seeing Amber and Mike together around town.”

“Why not hang out at school?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mike was a leader in the school?”

“Mike was a jock but not a leader. His father wanted the world to think he was smart and going places, but I wasn’t so sure. Short temper, mediocre intelligence, and a poor work ethic.”

“What about the kids’ parents? Know any of them?”

“I met Mike’s father once and worked with his mother on several committees. Mrs. Marlowe was dead by Mike’s freshman year.”

Jake rummaged through the facts he’d absorbed from Georgia’s synopsis. “Cancer, from what I understand.”

She hesitated. “She did have cancer, but I thought it was the fall.”

“What fall?” There was no mention of a fall anywhere. Jake would have remembered that detail.

“As I understand it, her medications made her dizzy and she fell down a flight of stairs in their home. She didn’t die immediately, but the trauma weakened her. She passed a week later. Mike was really rattled about it and understandably missed two weeks of school.”

“What else can you tell me about Mrs. Marlowe?”

“A lovely woman. Not very attractive in the classic sense but she made the best of what she had.”