The Sixes

“Of course not. Why are you asking?”

She told Glenda about the tarot card.

“I don’t believe it,” Glenda said. “How can this be happening?”

“I wouldn’t blame you, G, if you said something,” Phoebe told her. “Maybe you mentioned it to someone when you talked about me coming to teach here, or when the whole Sixes business started up. It’s not anything I ever insisted had to be kept secret.”

“I’ve never breathed a word about it. Sure, you never told me it was supposed to be a secret, but since you always seemed to keep it private yourself, I did too. Believe it or not, I’ve never even told Mark. After he met you, he asked why you’d left school, and I told him that you’d missed your mom too much.”

“Well, someone’s found out—or even worse, someone here was once a member and told the Sixes.”

“Have you ever talked about it in an interview?”

“Never. And there was no press coverage of my abduction. The school made sure of that.”

“We’ll get to the bottom of this, Fee. I’m sure the cops are doing everything in their power to squeeze Blair and Gwen. It won’t be long before we know who all the Sixes are, and then we can find out if there’s really a connection to Fortuna.”

Phoebe took another swig of wine. “Okay, it’s just—you know. It’s just making me crazy, that’s all.”

“I’m sure,” Glenda said. “You called about something else, too. That committee Lily was on?”

“Right. I talked to someone who swears Blair and Gwen are being set up. She also says that Lily was in love with a faculty or administration member she met on a committee this fall. It sounds like they were having an affair—and that could be significant.”

“I’m back in my office, and I can check now on my computer. Just give me a sec to find it.”

Phoebe heard the sound of Glenda’s phone being set down on the desk. As she waited, she realized she was holding her breath. Finally Glenda picked up the phone again.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Glenda said. “But then, maybe you will.”

“Who?” Phoebe urged.

“Tom Stockton. It was a committee on campus life.”

Phoebe inhaled sharply. It was the same committee Jen was on, though she’d nicely withheld this detail. “Damn, despite what you told me about him, I didn’t see this one coming.”

“You sure about this, Fee?”

“Not totally. But if it’s true, he might be involved in the deaths. It could also explain why he’s been so eager to promote the serial killer idea. It deflects all the attention away from him.”

“Are you going to the cops about this?”

“Not yet. I want to check it out a bit more. And don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” Her mind flashed back to her experience earlier in Glenda’s house. “Tell me—how are things on your end?”

“For the time being, things seem relatively under control on campus, and I’ve managed to calm the board down—though I dread what will happen when more stuff starts leaking out about the Sixes. On the home front, it stinks. Mark has been out a lot lately, and he’s always got these intricate excuses that seem rehearsed. I keep thinking about what my mother used to say: A liar’s story is often just a little too pat.”

In her mind Phoebe could see herself creeping down Glenda’s front hallway, overhearing the ominous words that Mark had spoken. She needed to share with Glenda what she’d learned, but she didn’t want to do it over the phone.

“Is there any chance I can see you soon?” Phoebe said. “I really want to catch up in person.”

“Me too. There’s a women’s soccer game tomorrow at four. Can you meet me there?”

Phoebe promised she would.

“Are you going to be okay at home tonight?” Glenda asked.

“Yeah, Duncan’s here.”

There was a longer than usual pause.

“Okay, but remember you have a bed here whenever you need it,” Glenda told her.

Phoebe thanked her and started to sign off. “Oh, wait,” she said, remembering. “There’s one other thing I heard. Someone mentioned to me that Trevor Harris was being hassled by Craig Ball before he died. Their word, not mine. Did you ever hear anything like that?”

“That’s odd,” Glenda said. “I don’t recall Craig ever mentioning he’d had any issues with Trevor. And I don’t like the word hassle. That’s not the way we like to do business with students around here. Let me investigate, Fee.”

After saying good-bye, Phoebe dropped the phone on the table and leaned back in the chair, considering the info she’d learned from Glenda. Stockton. Knowing that he had a predilection for college girls, it wasn’t hard to imagine him falling for Lily. But it was tough to imagine it the other way around—what had that pretty, inquisitive girl seen in that pompous bore? And yet Phoebe knew Lily wasn’t the girl she’d first imagined her to be. She’d apparently been up to her ears in dirty tricks.

So had Stockton thrown Lily into the river? If he was obsessed with her, he might have done it out of jealousy. Or rage, because he’d learned she’d first set out to exploit him. And when Hutch figured it out, Stockton showed up at his cabin and battered him to death. But how had Hutch learned the truth?

The situation, Phoebe realized, might be even sicker than Stockton killing a former lover. Maybe—if she was really going to push the envelope in her thinking—Stockton was the serial killer, drugging and drowning students. She’d seen him in Cat Tails. Perhaps he’d been there before. Was he the thirty- or forty- something man who had spoken to Wesley? Wesley had been at the school only two years, and might not even have been familiar with Stockton. She needed to show Wesley a picture of Stockton.

She heard the water shut off, and a few minutes later Duncan bounded down the stairs. His skin was dewy, and his wet hair was slicked back off his face. Later, after they slipped into bed, she reached out for him in the dark and ran her fingers deliberately along his chest and thighs.

“Are you sure?” he said softly. “I would love nothing more than to have sex with you, but is it okay with your injuries?”

“Well, if you think I’m waiting six weeks till this sling comes off, you’re crazy.”

She gave in to the sheer pleasure of his hands exploring her and the feel of him inside her. It was an utter relief to leave the world behind.

The next morning, she was first out of bed and had already put out a few provisions for breakfast by the time Duncan wandered into the kitchen.

“You seem like you’re in a hurry,” he said.

“There are a few things I must take care of,” Phoebe said. “Are you ready for a piece of actually fun news?

“Please.”

She told him about her decision to babysit Ginger for a while.

Duncan smiled. “That’s nice of you to do, Phoebe,” he said. “It must be so tough for her, losing both her home and her master. Speaking of that, I wonder if we’ll hear news of the case today. If the girls don’t confess, they’ll have to stand trial.”

Phoebe had already decided she wasn’t going to reveal specifics about Jen’s visit—it wouldn’t go down well with Duncan if he knew she was still poking around. But she wanted his take on one aspect.

“What if my first instinct about the murder was right? That Blair and Gwen didn’t do it?” she asked.

Duncan, leaning against the sink, lowered his coffee cup, holding her eyes.

“Anything in particular inspiring this line of thinking?” he asked.

“Someone informed me yesterday that Lily was in love with a man—not a student—who works at Lyle. What if he was the one who killed Lily and then Hutch?”

“Who told you that?” he said.

“I can’t say at the moment.”

“For crying out loud, Phoebe,” Duncan snapped. “Why can’t you leave this all to the police? You keep putting yourself in danger.”

She appreciated his concern, but she didn’t need him telling her what to do—and certainly not in that tone.

“I’m looking for closure in this case, just like everyone else,” Phoebe said firmly. “But I don’t want closure