“Any clue why?”
“Why he’s habitually grumpy?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Wilson shook her head. “It’s the same question we’ve all been asking. Wish somebody would find out.” She shoved further into her seat. “But then again, who cares? Let him be grumpy like a woman going through a perpetual period. I wouldn’t give a hoot about a mean man like him, anyway.”
“Does he direct his mean attitude towards teachers alone?”
“Everyone. Teachers, students. Even so many people in Ogre’s Pond will testify.” She paused, frowned, and said, “I can’t believe you didn’t know this. There’s hardly a single soul in Ogre’s Pond who’s not aware of Donnie’s annoying personality.”
Brian shrugged. “I guess there’ll be a huge
“Oh, yeah. A huge shakeup for the worse.”
“Or for the better.”
“Maybe some parents will have to withdraw their kids from the school.” Mrs. Wilson laughed. “And Robert won’t have to deal with his brutality anymore, since the kid will likely be taken away soon.” Then, she stopped abruptly.
Brian sensed she had slipped into her zone of discomfort. She probably didn’t want to let out that piece of information. Not that much. Or perhaps Brian’s hunch was wrong. At any rate, he pursued it. “Brutality?”
“What?”
“Did you say Donnie maltreats Robert?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Tell me more.”
“Trevor was a good man,” Brad said, adjusting his hearing-aid device, “especially in the business of the school. Very loved by teachers and students alike. I think that helped a great deal in hiding the other aspect of him, which was the way he treated Robert.”
“Mrs. Wilson never said a thing about the principal bullying the kid,” Brian said. “Even though I tried really hard to extract the truth from her. She only focused her revelation on Donnie.”
“Well, like I’ve stated, Mr. Carter’s good personality was strong enough to mask the other side of him,” Brad said.
“I had a chat with Donnie himself a few days ago, trying to pry some facts out of him.”
“And what did he offer?”
“Nothing useful. He denied ever noticing the boy being maltreated by fellow students, let alone fessing up to his own hostile disposition towards the boy. He made no mention of the deceased man’s role, either.”
Brad blinked. “I don’t suppose you have a notion I made this up, Sheriff, do you?”
“Oh, not at all,” Brian said.
“Good,” Brad said. “Because even the boy’s mother is aware of this. I contacted her about it once, though I warned her not to mention my name if she decided to lodge a complaint. She did nothing about it. And you would’ve thought she would be eager to deal with the situation, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s what one would have expected. But she was probably thinking of you-of not wanting to get you involved and end up getting you in trouble.”
“She doesn’t have to mention me. How would anyone have known about me if she’d pursued the issue?”
“Words have their own ways of bursting out, however hard we try to keep them secretive. That’s just my take on it.”
Brad shrugged. He made his next comment as if he wasn’t following Brian’s line of thought about the probable reason for the woman’s inaction. “I don’t understand her at all.”
Sheriff Stack steered the conversation forward. “So, for how long has this been going on? The bullying, that is?”
“Since the first day Robert set his feet on the soil of the school. I gotta tell you one thing, though. The boy’s a little weird.”
“Weird in what sense?”
“Stories, Sheriff. An overdose of horror stories. And at his age, I think it’s a little outlandish to have such a thing going for him.”
“I’ve got that info as well,” Brian said. “Is that it?”
Brad appeared puzzled. “Is
“Is that everything weird about the boy?”
“Well, yeah. With the strange pictures he used to bring to school. Kinda creepy, and that’s not just my opinion,” Brad said. “It’s what everyone thinks.”
Chapter 7
At five-thirty on a drizzly Tuesday morning, the week following Trevor Carter’s murder, Brian and his Deputy, Allan Moore, paid Holly a second visit. They had gone there the previous night to inform her that the hair sample at the scene of murder was certainly Robert’s. And though more reports on the blood specimen were still under way, it already seemed Robert might be getting very close to being charged with murder.
“Have you received the rest of the reports now, Sheriff?” Holly asked as she opened the front entrance door, one hand on the knob, the other trying to put her unruly night robe in check. “Since you couldn’t even wait for the day to break, is it time to arrest my son?”
“We’re not here to arrest your son, Holly. Not yet, anyway.”
“What a respite,” Holly said, and Brian could feel the heat of sarcasm radiating from her. “I’m trying to take a guess on the purpose of this visit. Are there more bodies-like maybe two or three together this time?”
The two men exchanged glances briefly.
“Well, since I’ve figured there’s no point beating around the mulberry bush,” Allan said, his shaggy raven black hair peeping out of the hood, which in turns dripped water onto the porch steps, “yes, there’s been another murder down the Sebastian River, but-”
Holly gasped.
“But it’s only one-not two or three like you stated. Perhaps the remaining two will be discovered later,” Allan concluded in his own sarcastic way.
“Good Lord,” Holly said. “Again? And I didn’t mean any of my words. I was only… was only…”
“It’s all right,” Brian said, hunching over as a plastic bag he carried under his raincoat scratched his groin. “But first things first-may we come inside? This drizzle is soaking us the heck up-defying even the raincoats.”
“What has this new death got to do with my son again, Sheriff?” Holly asked, once seated in the living room.
Brian scratched at the nape of his neck. “I hate to say this, but Rob’s getting caught up in something really messy, messy and pretty mysterious. And when I speak of mystery, I mean the reason why he’s doing what he’s doing.”
“Doing what? Killing the residents one by one?”
Allan cleared his throat. “Mrs. Smallwood-”
“Call me Holly, please.”
“All right, sorry, Holly. As I was saying, Rob’s
