Jeffery Deaver - The Lesson of Her Death

His skid is as precariously controlled as the ones he practiced for weeks on the State Police course. The Dodge comes to rest dead center in the road, at the head of twin black stripes. The cloud of burnt rubber and dust catches up with the cruiser, encloses it, then passes away intact on an impossibly gentle breeze.

Corde's car sat askew in front of his own house, half on the lawn, engine still running, next to Tom's cruiser, which was parked civilly in the center of the driveway.

Inside Diane looked up at her husband's wide green eyes as he burst through the door. He took her hands and placed her on the couch.

"You're scaring me, Bill." As if speaking to a stranger. "Is it Jamie? What's happened?"

Corde sat next to her. His breath was rapid. He didn't let go of her hands. She squirmed. "What?" she said, then louder: "What is it?"

"I think…" He squeezed her cold fingers. "I think Ben Breck is Leon Gilchrist."

"Oh, God, no…" Diane's voice crumbled. "No, it's not true…"

"Gilchrist is a special education lecturer at Auden. Isn't that the department where the tutors work?"

She nodded, her eyes sweeping the floor at her feet.

"He could've read Sarah's file and known all about her problem."

"No, Bill," she protested. "No!"

"What does he look like?"

"No, no, no… He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't do it!…" Her voice vanished in hysterical sobbing.

"Diane," Corde said harshly, "you've got to help me on this. Think."

"Oh, Bill, no!"

He gripped her shoulders. "Describe him!"

She did, as best she could, her words punctuated with sobs. When she finished she cried, "Oh, God, it can't be. I know it can't."

Diane's description was vague but it did depict someone who could resemble Gilchrist. "Where's he staying?"

"I don't know! Near hear somewhere. He never told me."

"He never told you?" Corde shouted. "How did you call him?"

"Usually he called me. When I called I left messages at the library. I never saw his office." Every word grew weaker as the evidence mounted.

"What kind of car does he drive?"

"I don't know ! Quit cross-examining me!"

Corde gripped his wife by her shoulders. "Think. You must've seen it. Is it green?"

"I don't know. Just a car. American, I think. A four-door of some kind. I don't remember the color. I think it was dark. No… Oh, and I just saw it! When he picked her up…" Her hands flew to her face. "Oh Bill!"

"Sarah?" Corde shouted. "Sarah's with him now?"

He grabbed the phone and dialed Auden. He heard a click. " You have reached Auden University. The school will be closed until summer session registration on June 10. If you would like to leave a message, press the number of the extension for the department you wish to reach and at the tone leave your message. If you -"

He slammed the phone down. He paused a moment then picked up the receiver again, intending to dial directory assistance. In his frazzled state of mind he dialed 911 by mistake. He shuddered at the error and pressed the receiver cradle down then released it. The line wouldn't disconnect. He held it again for three seconds. Still no dial tone. Then five seconds. GOD STRIKE THEM DEAD! Finally he heard the tone.

Four. One. One.

"Operator, this is the New Lebanon Sheriffs Department. We have a police emergency. I need the number and address of a man named Breck. In New Lebanon."

"Breck? First name?"

How many Brecks do you have? "Ben. Benjamin."

The wait was a huge black pit. He heard the clattering of keys. He heard pages riffling. He heard a one-sided conversation – another operator saying "I'll bring 'em home but you have to cook 'em. I won't have time."

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Corde asked.

"How would you be spelling that?"

"Spell it? How do you think? B-R-E-C-K"

"There's no listing of Ben, Benjamin or B. Breck in New Lebanon or Fredericksberg. Would he -"

He jammed the button on the phone down again. Shaking his head, he made another call. Dr. Parker's receptionist said she was with a patient and Corde said, "Please tell her this is an emergency."

The psychiatrist came on the phone and said coolly, "Yes, Mr. Corde?"

He said, "Do you personally know Dr. Breck?"

"Why, what's the problem?"

"Do you know him?"

She paused a moment in irritation but must have sensed the urgency. She said, "No. But I've spoken to him several times about Sarah's course of treatment."

"But it might not have been Breck you talked to."

"You mean you think he was an impostor? Oh, I don't think so. He seemed to know a great deal about your daughter. Come to think of it, he knew a great deal about your whole family, Detective."

"What's your daddy doing today?" Dr. Breck asked.

"I don't know. He's at work, I guess."

"Do you love your daddy?"

"Oh yeah. Sure."

"Does your mommy love your daddy?"

"Sure. I guess."

Dr. Breck drove quickly. The scenery raced past as if Sarah were riding Cloud-Tipper the eagle. A barn was a red dot in the distance then a red ball then a huge red whale then it vanished behind them like a wish.

Dr. Breck slowed and pulled into the driveway of the college. He turned toward a part of the school that was deserted, more trees than buildings. Sarah was able to read at least one sign. Auden University. She couldn't understand the word "university" but she had memorized it because this was where Dr. Breck worked and that made it important to her.

"I like these buildings," Sarah announced. They looked to her like castles – only without gates and drawbridges and the lakes around them. Some even had up-down teeth on the tops like in Robin Hood (the old Robin Hood, the good one) where the sheriffs soldiers stood and shot crossbow darts at the star, renamed by her "Arrow Flynn." Sarah's book contained two stories about castles.

Dr. Breck had remained silent as they drove. He seemed lost in thought and she didn't want to trouble him but she tried to read the sign in the front of the building they were passing. She couldn't and she asked him about the words. "It says 'Graduate School of Education,'" he answered. "Read the other sign there."

She frowned. "'Arts.' Oh oh oh, and 'School of.' I can read those. And 'Sciences.'"

"That's good," he said. "'School of Arts and Sciences.'"

"I got back my last story from Dr. Parker," Sarah said. "Can we read it today?"

"If you'd like."

"It's my favorite. It's about a wizard I saw over by Blackfoot Pond. He lives in the woods behind my house. He watches the house a lot. It took me forever to write it. I wanted to get it just right. It's got Cloud-Tipper the eagle in it and -"

With sudden curiosity Dr. Breck asked, "This wizard's in your story?"

"Uh-huh. It's called 'The Sunshine Man.' That's his name."

"And you saw him by Blackfoot Pond? When?"

"One morning. Last month, I guess. He's been behind the house too."

"What does he look like?"

"I never saw him up close." Sarah brushed a strand of hair off her face. "You know, Dr. Breck, I wanted to ask the Sunshine Man to make me smart only I was scared to. But I think he knew. I think he sent you to me."

"You think so?" Dr. Breck pulled the car onto an empty parking lot beside a deserted building. He braked to a stop. She reached for the door handle but before she could pull the lever up Dr. Breck's hand touched her arm. "No, Sarah. Wait just a minute." She did as she was told.

Corde ran to the front door. He said to Tom, "Deputy…" His voice shook and he took a deep breath to calm himself before starting again. "I think that man who's been coming here for the past month, Breck, I think he's Gilchrist."