Trial By Fury

CHAPTER 18

When I stepped away from the locker, Andi Wy

"Look for yourself," I said.

She did. I watched her expression when she turned back to face us. "I don't understand."

"It's a trophy case," I told her. "The cheerleaders' trophy case."

"What does it mean?"

"It doesn't matter. Let's get out of here, Peters."

I welcomed the fresh air when we stepped back outside. I felt sick. Ned Browning, too. The one who had been so protective of his "young people." He, too, had fallen victim to the cheerleaders' hit list. More than once.

We were nearing the office when I rounded a corner and ran full tilt into Ned Browning himself. Ned Browning and Joa

Joa

"Working. What about you?"

She nodded toward Ned Browning, who was carrying a large cardboard box. "Mr. Browning asked me to come get Darwin 's things. They're hiring a replacement and he needs to use the desk."

Ned nodded. "It was most awkward, having to call, even before the funeral, but the board has moved forward and hired a replacement. He'll be here at school tomorrow. I felt Mrs. Ridley was the only one who should handle her husband's things."

"Did you find out anything?" Joa

More than we expected, I wanted to say, but I didn't. Instead, I reached for the box Ned had in his hands. "Would you like me to carry this to your car?"

She nodded, and Ned handed it over. It was fairly heavy. "I'll be getting back to my office," he said. He turned to Joa

Joa

Ned nodded sympathetically. "I understand completely. It would be nice if you could. It would mean a great deal to the students, but of course your physical well-being must come first."

He took Joa

Ned Browning scurried away toward his office, the little shit. I wanted him out of my sight. I turned to Peters. "I'll help get this loaded into Joa

We left Andi Wy

"What?"

"The picture. I thought you were going to find out how the man at the newspaper got it."

"Oh, that." Maxwell Cole's column seemed eons away. "No," I told her. "I haven't been able to locate him yet."

"Oh," Joa

Her Mustang was parked in the school lot. She led the way to the trunk and unlocked it. The cover bounced open. A large tin-plated container, the kind restaurants use to hold fifty pounds of lard, sat in the middle of an otherwise empty trunk.

Joa

"What is it?"

"It looks like my flour container. But what would it be doing in my car?"

I put down the box. "I don't know," I said. "Let me take a look."

As soon as I cracked the lid on the container, before I even looked inside, I was sorry. The stench was overpowering. Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. I lifted the lid anyway.

Coiled at the top was a length of rope. Under it, through the center of the rope was what appeared to be a man's shirt. A maroon man's shirt, dusted with flour.

For a moment, Joa

"That's his shirt," she whispered.

I shoved the lid back shut. "Are you sure?"

She nodded, holding her hand to her mouth. "That was his favorite, his game shirt. He always wore it."

"That day, too?"

She nodded. "It's either his shirt or one just like it."

I examined the outside of the container. A fine film of white powder lingered on the outside and on the top. I took a tiny swipe at the bottom edge with my finger and touched it to my tongue. It was indeed flour.

"And this looks like your flour container?"

"I'm sure of it. I keep it in the storeroom out in the carport. There's a smaller one, a canister in the house. When I need to refill it, I get the flour from this one."

"And you have no idea how long this has been in your trunk?"

"No."

I closed the lid of the trunk. "Open the car door," I ordered. "We'll put the box in the back."

Unquestioningly, Joa

"Wait here," I said. "We'll go somewhere we can talk."

I left her there and went in search of Peters. I found him and Candace Wy

"I'm going to be gone for a while," I told Peters abruptly.

Puzzled, he looked at me. "Want me to go along?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No need. I'll be back in half an hour or so."

To this day, I'm not sure why I didn't have Peters come along with us. Joa

Peters shrugged. "Okay. Suit yourself. I'll wait here. Besides, I should get the camera from the car and take some pictures of that list. Even if it's not admissible, doesn't mean it isn't usable."

I nodded in agreement. Leaving them, I hustled back to Joa

"Would you like me to drive?"

Wordlessly, she handed me her keys. I helped her into the car and shut the door. I got in and put the key in the ignition.

Joa

"That's what we're going to find out," I told her. I started the car and backed it out of the parking place. The only restaurant I knew on Mercer Island was a De

Once in De

"In the storeroom at the end of the carport."

"Locked or unlocked?"

"Locked. Always."

"When was the last you saw it?"

"I don't know. A couple of weeks, I guess. I don't keep track."

"And you haven't noticed if the storeroom has been unlocked at any time?"

"No."

"When were you out there last?"

She shrugged. "Sometime last week."

"And the flour container was there?"

"As far as I know, but I don't remember for sure." She paused. "What are you going to do?"

"Take the container to the crime lab. See what they can find out."

"Why was it there?"

"In your car?"

She nodded.

"Someone wanted it found there."

"So you'd think I killed him?"

"Yes."

"Do you?"

"No."

There was another long pause. The waitress came and refilled both our coffee cups. While she did it, Joa

"Is that smart?"

"For me not to suspect you? Probably not, but I don't just the same."