Knock, knock... (11 page)

***

In spite of the constant headache from the ongoing renovations at Chadworth School, Headmaster Robert Dander couldn’t stop smiling – and not because of the school’s impressive trophies he was staring at in the school’s front entrance. In three weeks, he’d lost twenty-one pounds. Lisa had lost seventeen. They’d even gone dancing over the weekend, something they hadn’t done for a long time. Shaking their still substantial booties and enjoying every moment.

Life was good.

The door opened behind him, and he turned to see the UPS driver hurrying in with a parcel. Robert stepped toward him.

"Do you need a signature?" Robert glanced down at the return address on the label. Another order of books. Good. The school needed them – and so much more.

"Not today." The deliveryman touched his hand to his cap and said, "Have a good day."

Robert glanced up at him. The deliveryman's eyes had darkened to a midnight black. Robert frowned. "Hey, are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Only the man's eyes had gone completely black as in no white showed…at all.

While Robert stood in shock, trying to understand, the deliveryman turned to leave. Friendly. Normal.

Except something flashed from the man's body and stabbed into Robert. He gasped and fell back a step, his hand's slamming to his chest. 

The pain sharpened, and he opened his mouth to cry for help, and the pain intensified. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He tried to speak again and a nasty, hushed groan of pain and terror came out. A gurgle.

The deliveryman turned, frowned and took a step forward. "Sir, are you all right?"

Robert tried to answer and held out his hand. The parcel fell from his numb fingers, hitting the floor with a loud bang. Robert fell to his knees, dimly aware of Bill calling for help.

Footsteps raced down the hallway toward them.

Robert tried to speak, tried to tell them to call 911. Then the beautiful old tile of the entranceway rushed up to meet him.

A harsh whisper sounded close by, almost inside his head. But his own thoughts drowned it out. 
Please not a heart attack! I’m not ready to die.

Monday afternoon…

T
he afternoon sped by. There'd been too much damn paperwork to allow Shay to leave work early – not to mention the scheduled meetings with other staff.

She'd hoped to slip down to the Children's Hospital, one of the Foundation projects, and see how the new wing was coming along. She’d heard it was almost done. In fact, several children had already been moved in. Those kids were part of the reason she wanted to visit this afternoon. They tugged at her heartstrings, made her grateful to be able to help in some small way. Only, her schedule wasn't looking good at the moment. Maybe in an hour. She'd see.

Her phone rang. It was her favorite detective – Ronin. "Hey, surprised to hear from you so fast."

"It's not necessarily a good thing, either," he said, his voice serious.

"True enough." She waited for him to continue. When he took his time, she had an inkling she wasn't going to like what he would say next. She struggled to hide the sinking feeling in her stomach, so it didn’t show in her voice. "What's up?"

"Do you have anything to do with the school on Bernard Street?"

She frowned. "Chadworth School? Yes, it's one of ours. Why?"

"The headmaster, Robert Dander, collapsed by the front door a couple hours ago. He’s dead."

She gasped, her stomach bottoming out and filling with dread. "I don't understand. The headmaster is a great guy. He couldn't be more than sixty, maybe sixty-two, years old."

"He's sixty-one."

"Is it on the news?" she asked. "Normally I'd be notified of something like this." Like she had been about Westside Dental Center.

"The police are still on site. No details have been released at this time. It's the school’s connection to the Foundation that has me calling. I thought it was one of your projects."

"The old building needed upgrades to bring it up to code," she confirmed, bringing up the file on the computer. "They're due to get their second payment next week."

"And would a death like this stop the payment of that check?"

She leaned back and thought about that. "Normally not. At least not for long. We don't give the person the money; we give the project the funding. There is, of course, due diligence before we send out the money so we know how the money is going to be handled. We've been helping this school for years now. Robert wasn't the only person we've dealt with there. And they wouldn't get all the money in one lump sum anyway. It's handed out in stages."

She thought about what Ronin had said and what he hadn't said. "Was Robert murdered?" she asked, and couldn't stop her voice from showing her dismay.

"There are no signs of foul play. There were witnesses, but apparently he just keeled over where he stood. An autopsy will be performed. I'll let you know if there is anything odd."

"Okay, thanks for letting me know."

Shay hung up the phone and stared blindly at the computer monitor. She wasn't a big believer in coincidence, but what was the chance that two of the people running projects her foundation worked with, who were each set to manage a large chunk of Foundation money, would both die of heart attacks within twenty-four hours of each other?

She tried to remember the last time she'd been at the school. It had been several weeks ago. Shay took time, at least once a month, to visit each of the Foundation's pet projects. Other people could perform the checks, but she preferred to do them herself, knowing she would see more than other people might.

The last time she’d visited, the old structure had pleased her greatly. She loved knowing that the school would be able to stay open and that the graceful old lady of a building would continue to stand. Once she’d made that decision, she had no trouble convincing the others on the board about the importance of keeping the school open.

Also, as she thought back on the project and how her foundation came to be involved, she thought Bernice might have had a hand in that project coming to Shay.

Normally she would have picked up the phone and called Bernice to ask her about the school and Robert. Only now Bernice was in the morgue, ready to be buried.

Cold brushed up against her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around her chest.

Too many people connected to her were dying.

Why?

***

The next day, Shay walked up the steps to Chadworth School and opened the door. The school was busy – full of life, full of kids. The way a school should be.

Being there reassured her. That life continued. Kids still attended the school. It was still open and operating. Then again, why wouldn't it be? The death of the headmaster from natural causes was heartbreaking but not something that should stop the day-to-day operations of a project this size.

According to Ronin, nothing suspicious had been found on site. The autopsy should be done by now, but she hadn't heard the results. She'd made the trip to gauge the energy of the school.

She knew everything had energy, including the old building. Part of the reason she'd been willing to help fund the renovations was that this old building, with its tired energy, had been through so much already. She stood here and felt the contradictions you’d find in any building like this: the years of good living, the abuse and neglect, the kids' screams of joy and the fights and rage that had flared up through the decades. Still the old girl had withstood it with a grace and serenity that muted the storms going on around and through her.

With many good years early on, the energy of the building had warmed, grown and balanced itself with every additional successful year.

With time, the energy of the building had shifted slightly. The attitude of each generation of kids had affected the balance; the fight for funding affected the teachers; and the desperation of the parents added yet another element.

The building had maintained a healthy, measured calm. Shay knew its early years had to have been impressive indeed to withstand the ongoing negativity from this least decade. She saw these next years as promising a boon of new, happier and healthier energy as the renovations happened, as teachers, kids and parents realized the school was going to stay open and that children would continue to go there.

She'd come specifically to see how the death of the headmaster affected that balance. And to find out if there was some underlying negativity she had missed before.

That's what really bothered her. One death related to one of her many projects was sad...but that could be considered normal. Two deaths among her project leaders could be very sad but still be thought of as normal, considering how many people and projects she dealt with. Everyone knew, life happened. So did death.

As long as there was nothing ugly floating under the surface at either location where the deaths had occurred.

She walked into the office. The secretary was on the phone. Another worked at a computer in the back. The door to the headmaster's room was closed. Lights out.

The vice principal's door was open. Lights on.

With a smile to the busy secretary, Shay walked toward the vice principal. The Stephen Mortimer nameplate on the door matched her files. She presumed he'd be the one to step into the headmaster's shoes, but she couldn't be sure. A charity like this one had board members to satisfy.

She knocked on the open door. Stephen looked up and frowned.
Interesting.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Shay Lassiter of the Lassiter Foundation. I'd like to speak with you for a few moments."

Awareness shot into his gaze, but so did something else. Wariness? Fear? Or maybe just a hint of insecurity? He rose, stretched and walked around his desk to shake her hand. "Please, have a seat. I'm sorry I didn't recognize you."

"No reason why you would. Normally, I met with Robert."

"Yes." He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it more than a little rumpled. "It's been a difficult few days. We closed the school on the day of his death, but reopened it the next, knowing that's what he'd have wanted."

"Good. I came to see how everyone is coping."

He smiled. "I think we're doing fine. Robert was a good man…but he was intense. That must have affected his health. I can't tell you how many times we warned him to relax a little and ease up on the stress in his life."

Shay nodded sympathetically. "Funny, we're all told to do that, but hearing it and then acting upon the advice, well––"

"Exactly." He added, "Robert was also extremely overweight. He had a heart condition already, so although his death is a great loss, it's not a great surprise."

Anyone overweight would be prone to such health conditions. And Robert had been obese. "Have funeral arrangements been made? I'd like to attend."

He busied himself with a stack of notes on his desk. "I spoke with his wife this morning. I believe his funeral is scheduled for next Wednesday." He quickly wrote down the name and number of Robert's wife and handed her the note. "Here is her name and number should you want to call her. I can also send you the detailed information when I get it myself." He brought up his calendar and jotted down another note.

An obvious list maker. Shay watched him keep himself organized. His actions appeared normal, assured. No nervousness or strain evident.

She opened her inner vision and checked out his aura. Agitated. Nervous at her surprise visit. Disturbed at the unexpected workload now on his shoulders and a little angry at Robert for dying and even a bit angry at himself for feeling that way.

All normal.
And this reassured her.

Finished, he looked over at her, "Do you want to see the progress on the renovations?"

She smiled. "That was going to be my next request."

The next hour was spent going over the plans, highlighting the progress and difficulties with upgrading the old school. By the time she took her leave, the kids were close to exiting their classrooms for the day. She picked up the pace. The place would be overrun with kids soon.

The dismissal bell rang as she reached her car.

While Shay drove home her mind was on the school. Everything had looked great, on the surface and beneath – not that she'd expected anything different. She didn't want to find something wrong. But so often, where money was involved, people's motivations became a little muddy.

However, so far, she'd found nothing suspicious. The headmaster's death appeared to be unrelated to the project – for that she was grateful.

She needed to check in with Stefan.