Рита Браун - Pawing Through The Past

Mrs. Murphy followed Dennis and Rick out to the squad car.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Dennis demanded.

"Look, Dennis"-Rick put his hand on the man's shoulder-"I know you're scared. I don't know why you're scared and I wish you'd tell me. Think a moment. You have to live in this county. Whatever it is that frightens you can't be as bad as ending up dead."

"I didn't do it." Dennis stubbornly stopped, planting his feet wide. "I did not rape Ron Brindell."

Rick paused a minute as this was an unexpected response. "I believe you. Why are you so frightened? That was twenty years ago. I believe it happened. I believe you. Why did you run away today? The only thing I can figure is you ran away from the others who were in on it. Or you think you're next."

He mumbled, "I don't know. It's crazy. People don't come back from the dead."

"No, they don't, but there's someone in that gym who loved Ron Brindell. A girlfriend who wants retribution for his suffering. Another man perhaps. He could have had a lover. None of you knew. The man's come back for his revenge after all these years. He could be married and have children. How would you know? We called Ron's cousin in Lawrence, Kansas, to see if she had any ideas. She said they were never close. She lost contact with him after high school. Right now, Dennis, you're my only hope."

Dennis hung his head as Mrs. Murphy scampered back to tell Pewter and Tucker. "I don't know anything."

The cat could hear the shouting from the gym and she wasn't halfway down the hall. She loped to the open double doors to behold all the humans on their feet, everyone shouting and screaming. BoomBoom was the only person seated and she was in tears.

Tucker ran over to greet Mrs. Murphy. Pewter, wide-eyed, remained on the table. The commotion mesmerized her. She wasn't even stealing ham and barbecue off plates.

The only people not fighting were Harry, Susan, Fair, Bitsy, and Chris. Even E.R. was yelling at people.

"I thought we were a good class." Susan mournfully observed the outbreak of bad manners and pent-up emotion.

"Maybe we should go down to Miranda's reunion," Harry said.

"And ruin it?" Fair bent over and brushed the front of his twill pants. "I say we all go home. No one in their right mind would stay for the dance tonight."

"Jesus, guys, what am I going to do with all the food that's been ordered? It's too late to cancel it. Someone's got to eat it."

"I never thought of that." Harry briskly walked back to the center of the melee. "Shut up!" No response. She stood on the table and yelled at the top of her lungs. "Shut up!"

One by one her classmates quieted, turning their faces to a woman they'd never had reason to doubt.

BoomBoom continued sobbing.

"Boom." Susan reached her, patting her on the back. "Wipe your eyes. Come on. We've got to make the best of it."

With all eyes on her, Harry took a deep breath, for she wasn't fond of public speaking. "We'll solve nothing by turning on one another. If anything, this is a time when we need one another's best efforts. As you know, the sheriff has released us. Before we scatter to the four corners of the globe, what are we to do with all the food Susan has ordered and you've paid for? Remember, we have the supper in the cafeteria tonight before the dance. We can't cancel it. We've paid for it. What do you want to do?"

"Let the class of 1950 have it," Hank said.

"They've organized their own dinner," Susan informed him.

"Can't we send it to the Salvation Army?" Deborah Kingsmill asked.

"I'll call them to find out." Susan left for her car. She'd left the cell phone inside it.

"We could eat our supper and go. It seems obscene to have a dance under these circumstances," Linda Osterhoudt said. "And it seems obscene to waste all that food if the Salvation Army won't take it."

Others murmured agreement.

"Shall we vote on it?" Harry asked.

"Wait until Susan comes back," Bonnie Baltier suggested.

"Even if we vote on it, it doesn't mean the majority rules." Market shook his head. "You can't make people come and eat."

"Well, we can count heads. And we can divide up what's left among those who choose to come back for supper." Harry turned as Susan reentered the room. "What'd they say?"

"Thanks for our generosity but they've only got six men in the shelter right now."

"Okay then, how many are willing to come back for supper in the cafeteria? No dance."

Feet shuffled, then a few hands were timidly raised. A few more moments and more hands shot up.

Fair and Harry counted.

"BoomBoom, surely you're coming." Susan handed her another tissue.

"I am," she weakly replied.

"You're coming, Cynthia?" Harry smiled as the deputy raised her hand.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thirty."

"Thirty-one." Fair finished his count.

"How'd I miss one?" Harry wondered.

"You didn't. You just forgot to count yourself," he said.

"Okay then. We'll see you all tonight for supper, six o'clock in the cafeteria. Bring coolers and stuff so you can carry food back home." She put her hand on the edge of the table, swinging down, her feet touching the floor lightly.

"Graceful-for a human," Mrs. Murphy noted.

"Where's Chris?" Susan didn't see her.

"The minute Rick said we were free to go she shot out of here. Just about the time everyone started yelling at everyone else," Harry said.

"Can't blame her. She'll probably never talk to us again." Susan sighed.

"It wasn't your fault." Fair smiled at Susan.

"In a way it was. I roped Chris into this because of a bet we made on a golf game this summer. Of course, she was really hoping to meet a man and she found Dennis. Right now, I doubt she's too happy about that, too."

"I didn't say one thing about all that extra food." Pewter waited for praise to follow.

"Miracle. I've lived to see a miracle." Mrs. Murphy gaily sped out of the gym.

Cynthia sat in her squad car in the parking lot. The school, even with the heat on, was a bit chilly. The car heater warmed her. She'd found no residue on anyone's hands or clothing. The killer probably wore plastic gloves. She'd had every garbage can at school checked. While she held everyone in the gym, Jason went through the dumpster. Nothing-but disposing of a thin pair of gloves would have been easy.

42

As Harry drove away from Crozet High School she glanced in her rearview mirror at the brick building. The four white pillars on the front lent what really was a simple structure a distinguished air. Stained glass over the double-door main entrance bore the initials CHS in blue against a yellow background.

Situated on a slight rise, the school overlooked a sweeping valley to the east, a view now partially obscured by the brand-new, expensive grade school on the opposite side of the state road. The mountains, to the west, provided a backdrop.