“Knock, knock,” Mrs. Peters stuck her head around Scott’s door frame. “You all ready for Christmas break?” she asked.
“Am I ever,” Scott said, reaching out to turn off his monitor as the computer shut down. “I’m ready for a lot less drama and intrigue, that’s for sure.”
Mrs. Peters laughed. “Me too,” she said. “Well, I just stopped by to say enjoy your break and to give you this.” She held out a small object, which Scott took, then promptly burst out laughing. It was a Christmas ornament: a miniature Snoopy dressed up as Sherlock Holmes.
THE END.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
...
Mrs. Peters dreaded her final task Thursday afternoon, but was determined to see it through as soon as possible. She tapped on Teresa Williams’ office door.
“Come in.”
“Hi Teresa,” Mrs. Peters said. “Do you have a minute.”
Teresa invited Mrs. Peters in, but guardedly. The look on Mrs. Peters face was not heartening. And after a few minutes, Teresa wished she’d just locked the door in Mrs. Peters face. As Mrs. Peters talked Teresa muscles stiffened and her knuckles turning white as she unconsciously gripped the arms of her chair.
“Teresa, you must know that this kind of attitude and behavior is not healthy for you or for the girls that you coach. I came to you today because I want to give you the chance to step down and leave the school quietly. No one has to know why, and no one will press charges.”
“I’ll sue you for slander,” Teresa said, her voice full of fire.
“Teresa, I have proof. Written statements,” Mrs. Peters stood up. “I’ll give you until Monday. If you haven’t stepped down by then, I’m going to the board of directors on Tuesday night.”
“Come in.”
“Hi Teresa,” Mrs. Peters said. “Do you have a minute.”
Teresa invited Mrs. Peters in, but guardedly. The look on Mrs. Peters face was not heartening. And after a few minutes, Teresa wished she’d just locked the door in Mrs. Peters face. As Mrs. Peters talked Teresa muscles stiffened and her knuckles turning white as she unconsciously gripped the arms of her chair.
“Teresa, you must know that this kind of attitude and behavior is not healthy for you or for the girls that you coach. I came to you today because I want to give you the chance to step down and leave the school quietly. No one has to know why, and no one will press charges.”
“I’ll sue you for slander,” Teresa said, her voice full of fire.
“Teresa, I have proof. Written statements,” Mrs. Peters stood up. “I’ll give you until Monday. If you haven’t stepped down by then, I’m going to the board of directors on Tuesday night.”
...
Scott sat in Mrs. Peters office and relayed the information about the posthole digger, and Mrs. Peters told Scott about her conversation with Stephanie.
“I think I know what’s going on,” Scott said. “As crazy as it sounds, I think Teresa Williams is behind this, and I think Jill – at the very least – is helping her. It’s the only thing that makes sense, particularly in light of Teresa’s ‘you’re a shining star who’s really proved herself’ speech, and the fact that another cheerleader expressed fear. Clearly, the situation with the cheer squad is dysfunctional.”
Mrs. Peters nodded her head, her eyes sad. “I think you’re right. And I think it must have been Jill who was digging that whole. But what should we do?”
“I think we need to talk to Jenni. I think she’s on the edge of this, and knows enough to make all of our evidence come together. But she’s not all in the way Jill is. If we can get Jenni to confirm what we know, we’ll have an eye witness. We can go to the police.”
They were silent for a moment, both processing their disgust and disappointment at the whole situation. Then Mrs. Peters sat up, determination as well as resignation on her face. “I’ll talk to Jenni,” she said. “But then I want to try just confronting Teresa and Jill. As satisfying as justice would be I just don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary. Those hurt girls are moving on; let’s just let it go. Honestly, I think not having a cheer coaching job will be punishment enough for Teresa.”
Scott wasn’t convinced, but respected Mrs. Peters enough to trust her judgement. “Just promise me if she doesn’t immediately resign, that you’ll let me call the police.”
“I promise.”
“I think I know what’s going on,” Scott said. “As crazy as it sounds, I think Teresa Williams is behind this, and I think Jill – at the very least – is helping her. It’s the only thing that makes sense, particularly in light of Teresa’s ‘you’re a shining star who’s really proved herself’ speech, and the fact that another cheerleader expressed fear. Clearly, the situation with the cheer squad is dysfunctional.”
Mrs. Peters nodded her head, her eyes sad. “I think you’re right. And I think it must have been Jill who was digging that whole. But what should we do?”
“I think we need to talk to Jenni. I think she’s on the edge of this, and knows enough to make all of our evidence come together. But she’s not all in the way Jill is. If we can get Jenni to confirm what we know, we’ll have an eye witness. We can go to the police.”
They were silent for a moment, both processing their disgust and disappointment at the whole situation. Then Mrs. Peters sat up, determination as well as resignation on her face. “I’ll talk to Jenni,” she said. “But then I want to try just confronting Teresa and Jill. As satisfying as justice would be I just don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary. Those hurt girls are moving on; let’s just let it go. Honestly, I think not having a cheer coaching job will be punishment enough for Teresa.”
Scott wasn’t convinced, but respected Mrs. Peters enough to trust her judgement. “Just promise me if she doesn’t immediately resign, that you’ll let me call the police.”
“I promise.”
...
Scott leaned back in his desk chair, phone at his ear. “So you’re sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” said Bill Futch, owner of the lawn care company that Eastbrook contracted to take care of the grounds and athletic fields. “I came out this week to double check and you don’t have a gopher problem. But I do think you may have a vandal problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“When asked the crew that normally goes out to Eastbrook about any sign of gophers, one of the guys said that a couple of weeks ago he saw a girl out in the practice field digging a hole with a post-hole digger.”
“Come again?” Scott said, sitting upright in his chair.
“I know, I know. Seems crazy. And I got onto the guy for not telling me about it, but yeah, he said a pretty girl with blonde hair was out there at 5:30 a.m. digging with a post hole digger.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Scott said, his mind racing.
“Absolutely,” said Bill Futch, owner of the lawn care company that Eastbrook contracted to take care of the grounds and athletic fields. “I came out this week to double check and you don’t have a gopher problem. But I do think you may have a vandal problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“When asked the crew that normally goes out to Eastbrook about any sign of gophers, one of the guys said that a couple of weeks ago he saw a girl out in the practice field digging a hole with a post-hole digger.”
“Come again?” Scott said, sitting upright in his chair.
“I know, I know. Seems crazy. And I got onto the guy for not telling me about it, but yeah, he said a pretty girl with blonde hair was out there at 5:30 a.m. digging with a post hole digger.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Scott said, his mind racing.
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