The way she said it, the subject was not up for debate.
We decided to leave her car at the Carsons’ house and go to the Blakelocks’ in mine.
‘Joel’s a sensitive kid,’ Lucy Brighton said. ‘Someone like you throwing your weight around, badgering him, that’s not going to be good. Not for him, that’s for sure.’
‘I don’t badger,’ I said.
‘How about throw your weight around?’
‘Not that either.’
‘Well I’m going to make sure you don’t. Do you have any idea what Chandler and Mike put him through?’
‘I know what they did, but I can only imagine the impact it would have had on him. Was Mike a bad kid? Is Chandler?’
She glanced at me. ‘Bad? No. A lot of kids at that age do bad things, but I don’t think that makes them bad kids. They do things without thinking of the repercussions. They don’t consider how what they do will affect others. They haven’t developed a strong sense of empathy yet. They’ll go along with what the rest of the crowd is doing, even if it’s hateful, because they need so much to belong. I think we all did things as teens that we wish we could go back and undo. Cruel, thoughtless things.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but some kids are bad and stay that way.’
‘I know.’
‘Tell me about what they did to Joel.’
‘After they took that picture of him, they posted it in the usual places, and then others reposted it, and before you knew it, everyone in the school, and probably thousands beyond, had seen it. Joel was humiliated. People wrote things like “faggot” on his locker. His home got egged. He didn’t come to school for a week. His parents threatened to sue the boys, their parents, even the school. Chandler and Michael agreed to a full public apology. They were required to put it all in writing. There was a face-to-face sit-down. Joel’s parents agreed to drop their threats of a lawsuit. Things settled down after that, but that hardly made up for what Joel went through. At one point, I’m told, he was thinking of taking his own life, he was so humiliated. I’m sure he’s getting some kind of counseling.’
‘Do you think the boys were genuinely remorseful?’
‘I’d like to think so,’ Lucy said. ‘I don’t think they foresaw how quickly things would get out of hand.’
‘No wonder you looked stunned at the idea that Joel would write a story for Chandler,’ I said, heading toward the address we had for the Blakelock home.
‘Even if Joel were able to find it in his heart to forgive them for what they did, it’s quite a stretch to think he’d help either one of them do their homework.’
‘Unless Chandler isn’t telling it the way it happened,’ I said. ‘Maybe he threatened Joel, intimidated him into doing it.’
But even if that were true, it didn’t explain the story’s content, or how prescient it was.
‘Who was the other boy?’ I asked. ‘How did this affect him?’
‘He couldn’t be seen in the picture,’ Lucy said, ‘and Joel never revealed who it was.’
‘You think it was another student from your school?’
‘Most likely. You’d think by now that people would have moved past this.’ She shook her head. ‘But you’d be so wrong. The country’s still split on same-sex issues. There are still people who think it’s a sickness or a choice. Some people are just born the way they’re born.’
There was something in the way she said it that suggested this was personal.
‘Is there someone close to you who’s gay?’ I asked.
Lucy glanced my way. ‘No, actually. I mean, I have a cousin. She’s gay, but she’s cool with it and doesn’t care what anyone thinks. It’s just I was thinking that so many of us are born wired a certain way. It’s who we are, and there’s nothing we can do to change it. Sexual orientation is just one thing. My daughter …’
When she didn’t continue after a few seconds, I said, ‘What about your daughter?’
‘Crystal. Her name is Crystal. She’s eleven. And she has … sometimes I don’t know if it’s a learning disability, or a tremendous gift. But she’s not like the other kids. She’s withdrawn, very much in her own world. And she draws all the time. Like comic books, or graphic novels they call them. She’s always escaping into her imagination.’
‘She sounds interesting,’ I said.
‘Yeah, well, she is that,’ Lucy said, and tried to laugh. She pointed. ‘I think the Blakelocks live just up here.’
‘Okay.’
‘You’re not talking to Joel without one or both of his parents there.’
‘Okay.’
‘I won’t let you badger him.’
‘Okay.’
‘I just wanted to make that clear,’ Lucy said.
‘Message received.’
Eight
I stopped out front of the Blakelock house just as two people were heading up the driveway. A boy and a girl. The boy was about five foot six and maybe, soaking wet, a hundred pounds. He had black hair swept across his head that obscured his forehead and most of one eye, and wore a simple white T and a pair of black pants with sneakers.
The girl looked big next to him, although she was probably no more than five-nine, maybe a hundred and fifty pounds. Her blonde hair was streaked pink and fell to below her shoulders.
‘That’s Joel and his older sister,’ Lucy said. ‘I can’t remember her name.’
The pair stopped and turned when they heard the car stop, and the passenger door open.
‘Joel,’ said Lucy.
The boy’s expression was blank, as though he didn’t even see her. The girl edged in front of him, as though running interference.
‘It’s me,’ she said. ‘Ms Brighton, from school.’
‘I know who you are,’ he said.
‘And you’re Joel’s sister, right? What’s your name?’
‘Franny,’ she said. ‘What do you want?’
I was slowly getting out the driver’s side. Franny fixed her eyes on me and said, ‘Who’s that guy?’
‘That’s Mr Weaver,’ Lucy said. ‘Joel, we need to speak to you for a minute. Are your parents home? Or at least one of them?’
‘What’s this about?’ Joel said, half behind his sister.
‘We’ve got a couple of questions.’
‘Is it about Michael Vaughn?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Did you want to know if I was happy about him being dead?’
‘So you know.’
He held up his phone, which up to now I had not realized was in his hand. ‘Everybody’s talking about it. Someone even asked if I did it.’
‘God,’ Franny said. ‘People are just sick.’
‘Is that what you wanted to know? If I did it?’
‘No, Joel,’ Lucy said. ‘But there is something we need to talk about.’
‘Who’s that guy?’
‘Mr Weaver.’
‘Yeah, you said that, but who is he?’
Coming around the front of the car, I said, ‘I’m a private investigator.’
‘No shit?’ said Franny.
‘No shit,’ I said.
Lucy briefly shot me a look. ‘Is your mother home, Joel?’
‘Probably,’ he said. He nodded toward the blue minivan next to him in the driveway. ‘Her car’s here.’
Franny and Joel continued on to the front door and we followed. Joel didn’t get out a key, went straight in, followed by his sister.
Lucy put out her arm to stop me. ‘We’ll wait here.’
Like I was going to go barge in like I was part of a SWAT team. ‘Sure.’
About twenty seconds later, a woman came to the door. Late forties, round, hair so short it could have been a man’s military cut.
‘Yes?’ she said, and then, when she focused on Lucy, ‘Oh, hi.’
‘Hello, Ms Blakelock. This is Cal Weaver, who’s assisting me this afternoon. I need to ask Joel some questions, and I’d prefer it if you were able to be there.’
‘W
hat’s this about? Is he in some kind of trouble?’
‘May we?’ she said, asking to be invited inside.
We were led into the kitchen, where Joel was already seated and waiting, a can of Coke in front of him.
‘What’s this about?’ his mother asked.
Joel shrugged. ‘I dunno. But I bet somehow it’s about Mike Vaughn.’
‘What’s that horrible boy done now?’ Ms Blakelock asked, her voice turning venomous.
Lucy said, ‘He’s dead.’
She whirled around. ‘What?’
Joel waved his phone. ‘It’s all over the place.’
‘Oh my God,’ Joel’s mother said.
Lucy, maybe seeking to make this meeting less confrontational, addressed her by her first name. ‘Alice, let’s sit down.’
We all sat, except for Franny, who had reappeared and was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, taking it all in. I wasn’t going to ask her to leave. It wasn’t up to me.
Lucy rested her arms on the table and laced her fingers together. ‘Joel, I have something very simple to ask you.’
But he was looking at me, then at his mother. ‘You know what this guy is, huh, Mom?’
Alice Blakelock fixed her eyes on me. ‘What?’
‘He’s a cop.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m private.’
‘So this must be about Mike, right?’
‘His family called me when he didn’t come home,’ I admitted. ‘I was at Michael’s house, hoping to get a lead on where he was, when the police showed up.’
‘I know it’s bad to speak ill of the dead, but he was an awful boy,’ Alice said bitterly. ‘Him and that Chandler. What a pair. Do you know what they did?’
‘I do,’ I said. ‘But right now, Ms Brighton and I are here about something very specific that may or may not be related to what happened to Mike.’
Franny shifted from one side of the doorway to the other, folded her arms across her chest.
‘The suspense is killing me,’ Joel said.
Lucy took a breath. I decided to let her take the lead. ‘Joel,’ she said gently, ‘Chandler handed in a short story this week to Ms Hamlin that got her very concerned.’
I watched Joel’s face to see how he’d react. I wasn’t expecting a grin.
‘Don’t you mean surprised?’ he said.
‘Why do you say that?’ Lucy asked.
‘Well, the fact that he handed in anything must have been kind of a shock.’ He looked at his mother and smiled, as though expecting some sign of approval for the comeback.
‘I take your point,’ Lucy said. ‘So you’re aware that Chandler doesn’t always hand in assignments?’
‘Oh, I think everyone’s aware,’ Joel said.
‘What surprised me,’ Lucy said, ‘was that you might show any willingness to help him.’
Instant bafflement. ‘Huh?’ he said.
‘Chandler says you wrote the story for him.’
His jaw dropped. But it was Alice who spoke first. ‘Are you kidding me? What a lying little son of a bitch.’
‘Wow,’ said Franny. ‘Like he didn’t cause enough trouble for Joel. What a fucking douche.’
Alice shot her daughter a look. ‘I won’t have that.’
‘Well that’s what he is,’ Joel’s sister said. ‘He’s like the world’s biggest liar.’
Finally Joel weighed in. ‘Why would he say something like that?’
I said, ‘We were given the impression that it was your way of mending fences. You offered to do an assignment for him, and in return, he and Mike would never bother or make fun of you again.’
‘That sounds like a protection racket,’ Alice said. ‘Like extortion.’
‘According to Chandler, it was Joel who made the offer,’ I said.
Joel shook his head angrily. ‘I wouldn’t sharpen a fucking pencil for either one of those assholes.’
Alice saw no reason to admonish her son for that.
Joel continued. ‘Not only did I not write a story for him, but I have never even spoken to the guy since he and Mike did what they did to me. I mean, we had to be in the same room together when they made their stupid apology, but even then I didn’t say anything to him.’
Lucy and I exchanged looks. ‘I guess we’re done here then,’ she said. She pushed back her chair, and I did the same. ‘Sorry to have troubled you,’ she said, her eyes sweeping the room to include not just Joel and his mother, but Franny too.
In the car, Lucy said to me, ‘What now?’
‘We go back and see if Chandler would like to amend his story,’ I said.
Nine
‘Oh, oh,’ Lucy said as we approached the Carson house.
There was an unmarked police car parked out front just like the one I’d found Barry Duckworth in earlier.
Greta opened the door for me when I rang the bell. ‘The police just got here,’ she said breathlessly. ‘A detective. He’s talking to Chandler now. Malcolm’s with them. I have to go back.’
We followed her. Duckworth was in the living room sitting across from Chandler and his father. When he saw Lucy and me, he smiled and stood.
‘Cal,’ he said. I introduced him to Lucy.
Malcolm said, ‘I’ve called my lawyer. They’re going to send someone over. I’ve told Chandler he doesn’t have to answer any questions.’
‘But I didn’t do anything,’ the boy protested. ‘So what’s the big deal?’
‘Tell me again about the story you wrote,’ Duckworth said.
So, the principal had talked.
‘I didn’t write it,’ he said. ‘Joel Blakelock wrote it. I’m not very good at writing stories so he gave me one to hand in, which was pretty nice of him considering.’
‘Considering what?’ Duckworth asked.
Evidently Barry wasn’t up to speed on everything.
‘I don’t see any point in getting into this,’ Malcolm said. ‘We’re not answering any more questions without a lawyer present. You’re trying to turn this into something it’s not. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’
Duckworth sighed and got to his feet. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said, and made his way past Lucy and Greta and me. Greta closed the door behind him and turned the deadbolt, as though she thought Duckworth might be back with a battering ram.
‘This is terrible,’ she said.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ Malcolm said. ‘Other than that stupid story, they don’t have anything on Chandler. Absolutely nothing.’
‘We need to talk,’ I said.
Chandler and his parents turned their heads toward me.
‘We spoke to Joel,’ I said.
Chandler nodded with what looked like innocent confidence, as though waiting for his side of the story to be confirmed.
‘Chandler,’ Lucy said, ‘Joel says he did not write that story for you.’
‘What?’ he said. ‘But he did. I mean, you said yourself I’m not smart enough to have written it.’
Lucy frowned. ‘That’s not exactly what I said. What I did say was that your record for completing and handing in assignments gave me reason to doubt that you’d done that story on your own.’
Educational doublespeak. I thought Chandler’d nailed it when he said he just wasn’t smart enough.
‘Why would he lie?’ the boy asked.
I weighed in. ‘Not only did Joel say he hadn’t written that story for you, he said he hasn’t even spoken to you since you and Mike splashed his picture all over the Internet.’
Chandler nodded. ‘Yeah, well, that’s true.’
That stopped me for a second. ‘You haven’t spoken to him at all?’
He shook his head. ‘I mean, I get that. What Mike and I did, it was pretty shitty, and he’d probably feel funny talking to me directly, which was why I guess he used a whaddya call it, an intermediary.’
Lucy said, ‘He had someone else approach you with his offer of a story?’
Chandler’s head went up and down this time
. ‘That’s right. It was Franny.’
‘His sister?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I could hardly believe it.’
Ten
‘Let’s go through this from the beginning,’ I said.
‘Okay,’ Chandler said. ‘So, like, a week ago, I’m in the cafeteria, and Franny Blakelock comes in and sits down across from me. And I’m like, oh boy, she’s going to dump a Coke on me or hit me or something, and I’m getting ready to defend myself, and she says, chill out, it’s okay.’
He ran his fingers through his hair, scratched his scalp. ‘So I’m like, okay, what’s up? And she says her brother Joel wants to put all that stuff we did to him into the past, what me and Mike did, and as a kind of show of good faith or whatever, he wants to do me a favor. I’m still thinking maybe it’s a trick, that I’m being set up for a joke, like maybe she’s going to give me something and when I go to put it in my locker, they’ve booby-trapped it, you know? Because Franny, she has kind of a rep.’
‘What kind of rep?’ I asked.
‘Like, kind of unhinged?’ Chandler said. ‘Like, she’s one of those people you never really know what they’re thinking. One time, she got reamed out by Mr Landers, in history, and four days later all his tires had been slashed, and everyone figured it was her, but she never said anything and there was no way to prove it, but sometimes she gets this look, like she knows something that you don’t? You get what I’m saying?’
Lucy said, ‘I remember the incident with Mr Landers.’
‘Yeah, so I don’t really want to get on her bad side, and if her brother wants to help me out, then who am I to say no? She says he likes to write stories anyway, and he can knock off one for me in like minutes, so do I want it or not, and I say sure. So she takes out her laptop, and I’ve got my own right there in front of me, and she emails me something, then she goes on my computer and copies and pastes and stuff and makes it look like I did it myself.’
It was starting to gel for me.
‘And she made me swear that I’d never tell anybody, and if I did, she’d deny it, and so would her brother, because everybody knew what me and Mike had done, and if I ever said anything against Franny or her brother, people would know we were just trying to get back at them.’