I hated that all of this had been going on right under our noses, but then all crime did. How deep did the Kirkwood rabbit hole go?
I was about to find out the answer to that was: fucking deep.
Chapter Eighteen
Bexley
Tony’s list said to get canned beans.
That was it: canned beans.
Did he mean baked beans, Mexican salad mix beans, red beans… Why were there so many types?
While I waited for an answer to my frantic text asking for clarification, I walked around the store doing what everyone does at some point—picking up shit I didn’t need but wanted to have in the pantry just in case.
The floor guy was coming in two days, so I had to be smart about what I bought. The problem was, now that I’d successfully cooked one meal, I wanted to make more.
Ooo, a Crock-Pot, I need one of those.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” an angry voice hissed behind me. “Teaching kids about rape and how it’s funny?”
Turning around, I took a step back when I saw how closely Piersville’s mayor, Dirk Kirkwood, was standing.
“I didn’t teach them that. I taught them about a book called The Rape Of The Lock and stressed how different society was back then to now.”
His lip lifted in a sneer as he looked at me from head to toe, making me feel dirty just by looking at me. “I’d have thought that your grandpa and parents would have raised you better, but obviously, they aren’t what we thought they were.”
“Mayor Kirkwood, I had written permission from the parents before even mentioning the book due to the controversy of the title. But if you’d just let me explain why we were teaching them that, I’m sure you’d understand and appreciate the weight of it. I can also promise you that my grandfather and parents, as well as myself, are upstanding citizens who only—”
“I have complaints, Mizz Heath, from the parents your purportedly got permission from. Some of them even state that their kids are idolizing rape now, thanks to you.”
“What?” I breathed, my heart plummeting into my feet. That wasn’t the object of the lesson. Why would that be what they took away from it?
“I’m also in discussions with a highly respected judge to have your grandfather’s remains exhumed and banned from being buried in the town.”
Could they do that?
In just a few allegations, my world was literally crashing down around me. Pops loved our town. My whole family loved it. Why would they want to remove his body from his grave?
I couldn’t breathe.
“Well, Mayor Kirkwood,” a deep voice said beside me, and I turned to see Hurst Townsend standing with his grandson Cole. “Fancy bumping into you here.”
“I need to get groceries just like everyone else,” he sniffed, just as Cole moved in next to me and squeezed my shoulder.
“Wait for it,” he whispered, confusing me.
What more could there be?
“Now, did I hear right, or are my old ears deceiving me?” Hurst asked, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “There are complaints against Miss Heath about a class on an old piece of literature?”
“It fantasized about rape,” Kirkwood replied, glaring at him. “It also made it sound like it wasn’t as severe a crime as it is. What kind of teacher tells the youth of Piersville, impressionable young people, that?”
Holding a finger up, Hurst pulled his phone out of his back pocket and touched the screen. “The Rape Of The Lock, a satirical piece published by Alexander Pope, satirizes the cutting of a lock of hair from a woman and compares it to something akin to the tragedies outlined in the mythologies of the Gods. Pope used the vapid nature of society to emphasize the triviality of the situation.” Then, lifting his head, he asked, “Do you wish for me to continue what the book is about?”
“That’s not the point,” Mayor Kirkwood snapped, pointing at me. “She told them that the word meant nothing, so they now assume that rape isn’t a disgusting crime.”
“Actually, I said the opposite of that,” I told him quietly, still feeling sick over it. “I said that today rape is something horrific and that Pope managed to stress that to the society around him by comparing their reactions to a lock of hair being cut off to an atrocity like that. The only reason I even did that was to assist Miss Waite with educating them on how words have power, so they should choose their words carefully. It’s a lesson based on making them better people and not following the teachings of the internet on how to conduct yourself.”
Hurst had been watching me carefully throughout my explanation, and when I finished, he added, “I agree with that. Those two students who tried to commit suicide after following a random account who told them to do things to join up to an anonymous club could’ve done with being taught what Miss Waite and Miss Heath have been teaching. Did you hear about the attempted suicides? How about that group of kids who did whacked stuff because a guy calling himself Blue Elephant Boots online told them to?”
“That’s not what she did, though,” the mayor argued. “I have statements from parents who—”
“Well, I’d like to see those,” Hurst interrupted. “If Miss Heath is being accused of something like that, surely showing her the statements wouldn’t hurt. I mean, if this goes to court, she’ll hear them straight from the parents.”
It looked like Mayor Kirkwood recoiled into himself, like a snake about to strike. “I will do no such thing. That’s a violation of their human rights.”
“What?” Cole chuckled. “You of all people are talking about violations of human rights—which is a weird thing to just throw in at this point, by the way—when you’ve also threatened to exhume the body of Bexley’s grandpa?”
“It’s pertinent
