Chapter Three

Part 3

After lunch the students at Hereford got a half-hour break that was akin to recess. I hadn’t had recess since the fourth grade. And they called this place a prep school.

“We go outside when it’s nice out, but on days like this we just hang out here or in the library,” Danielle told me, leaning back in her chair. Behind her I saw Jon get up from his picnic table and toss his garbage in a nearby receptacle. I held my breath as he walked back into the cafeteria, then headed for the door at the far end of the room.

Follow him, a little voice in my head told me. You have thirty free minutes. You should be doing something productive.

I jumped up from my seat so fast I slammed my knee into the table, causing all the trays to jump. My knee throbbed, but I tried to repress any visceral reaction.

“Are you okay? Where are you going?” David asked.

“I just realized I forgot my French book in the room,” I told them, rubbing at my knee. “I’ll . . . see you guys later.”

I scurried along the wall as fast as I could without looking suspicious. Jon pushed through the swinging door that led to the main hallway and I took a deep breath and followed. I had to get more info on this guy and if I had to do it surreptitiously, then so be it.

Jon walked at a fast pace down the center of the hall, shaking his hair back from his face every so often. At first I had to remind myself to breathe. I kept remembering random things Tad had said about him—that he was constantly looking over his shoulder (he hadn’t done that once) and that he hung out with the only rough crowd at Hereford (I’d yet to see anyone that looked rougher than the kids from Smallville).

But if he caught me following him, what was I going to say?

Hey, you have just as much of a right to be in this hallway as he does, I told myself.

So I endeavored to look like just another student out for a casual stroll, but luckily he never noticed I was there. His black boots made so much racket there was no way he could hear my tiptoeing Adidases.

He took a left at the end of the hall and I pressed my back against the wall and waited for a count of ten, then followed. The doorway to the stairwell at the end of the hall was just swinging shut. I could hear laughter and voices echoing up and out into the hall from below, followed by the acrid scent of cigarette smoke.

Interesting. It seemed that Jon was joining in on some secret meeting. Whoever was back in that darkened stairwell, they had played hooky from lunch. Perhaps this was Jon’s little “rough crowd.” It was all I could do to keep from slapping myself on the back. I’d found out where Jon and his friends secretly convened! Go, me!

I stepped away from the wall and was just about to head into the stairwell to introduce myself and let the chips fall where they may, when a hand closed around my upper arm. I gasped, my heart seizing up, and turned to find a pair of flared nostrils right in my face. It was Headmaster Cox, the man who reigned over Hereford. I’d met him the day before when my mother had brought me in, but he’d barely even looked at me during our brief meeting.

“Ms. Sharpe,” he said, his beady eyes narrowing. “Will you please come with me?”

I cast a longing look over my shoulder as he basically dragged me back in the direction from which I’d come. Who did this guy think he was? This could have been a pivotal moment in my investigation. I was about to lay into him for interfering, but when we came out into the main hall there was a group of teachers chatting near the door to their lounge. I couldn’t openly defy the headmaster without blowing my cover to bits. It looked as if Jon Wisnewski had eluded my grasp. For now.

Two minutes later I found myself sitting across a huge oak desk from the hulking headmaster and I was seething. Where did this guy get off foiling my mission? Wasn’t he the one who’d called the police, railing about the exigent drug situation at his school?

“You’re impeding a police investigation by bringing me here,” I said, my jaw set.

“While you’re a guest at my school you will treat me with respect,” he snapped back.

“Sorry. You’re impeding a police investigation by bringing me here, sir,” I replied, refusing to be daunted by him. The students here may have lived in fear of this guy, but that didn’t mean I had to. It was important that I maintain an air of authority. After all, I was in charge of the investigation here at the school.

How cool was that?

“I suppose you think you’re clever,” he said, leaning his beefy arms into the edge of his desk. “But let me tell you something, missy. I don’t approve of having a mole in my school. I don’t like lying to my kids.”

“Then why did you ask for our help?” I asked.

“When I requested the assistance of the local police department I did not expect espionage,” he replied, his voice approaching a growl. He pushed himself out of his leather chair, which squeaked in seeming relief, and walked around the desk so that he could get right in my face again. “If I sense that you are violating the rights of any of my students, you will be out of here so fast your head will spin.”

I stood up and kept my eyes locked on his, never wavering. I didn’t even back up the slightest bit. This guy was a jerk. And jerks didn’t impress me.

“Well, sir, it’s nice to know I have such vociferous support from the front office,” I told him, my eyes flashing.

Then I turned and strode from the room, already looking forward to my nightly call with Chief Stratford. I was sure she would be interested to know that the headmaster was trying to trammel the investigation. As far as I was concerned, that was suspicious behavior. Maybe we should add another name to our suspect list.

Just for fun.