“What was it?” he said, looking more interested.
“Who would be angry that you were unavailable?” Anne said, her eyes intent on his face.
Anne had seldom taken Holt by surprise. She had this time.
“Ohhh,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You mean, because I’m seeing you? Someone I had a relationship with before you?” He had to think about it.
“Carrie Ambrose,” he said after a long moment. Carrie was a divorced biology teacher. “And Lois, the nurse.”
Anne held herself still with an effort. She wouldn’t have thought Carrie would appeal to Holt, since she was what Anne thought of as “fluffy.” But she’d been wrong, obviously. And Lois... that was really unexpected. “Anyone else?” she said quite calmly.
“Melayna Tate,” he said. An emotion passed over his face quickly, too quickly for Anne to read it.
“You had some kind of relationship with these three women?”
“No,” he said. “We had sex.”
Anne knew Lois best of the three. And she felt that if Lois was dreaming up this elaborate plan against her, Lois was deeper than she’d ever given her credit for being. But the nurse was an intelligent woman. It was possible. Carrie Ambrose had been dating a man in Travis for a while, at least as long as Anne could remember. Melayna Tate was the girls’ basketball coach. Anne did not know her very welclass="underline" Melayna’s team won often enough, the parents seemed content, so Anne had had no reason to observe the coach closely.
“The person in the security footage could be Melayna or Lois,” Anne said. “I think they’re more likely than Carrie. Whoever hung the sign, she swarmed up that ladder. Carrie isn’t muscular, and she’s heavier. Tell me about Melayna and Lois.” She waited, her hands folded.
“You’re too smart to be sensitive about Melayna or Lois.” Holt sounded doubtful.
Anne said, “Yes, I am.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’m assuming there’s a reason you quit having sex with them.”
Holt tried smiling back. “Lois is smart, and she has a good sense of humor, but I was not what she was looking for. I think she knew that too. She quit calling. Melayna was wild. And emotional. I had the feeling she was thinking of names for our children. She mentioned moving in with me after two dates.”
Anne didn’t comment. “So Lois and Melayna seem possible, but I should check out Carrie Ambrose,” she said. “Whoever it is, she wants to discredit me. Apparently, she feels I took you away from her.”
Holt looked embarrassed. “They should know better,” he said.
“Whoever. We need to shut her down,” Anne said. “Because the superintendent is asking pointed questions. The teachers and the kids are laughing at me. It’s going to take me a long time to rebuild my standing.”
“If we expose her,” Holt said, “that would clarify the blame.”
“Principal, coach, and another school employee, caught in a love triangle? Not good.”
“This has to stop, and it should be explained somehow. What if... what if you weren’t the only person she was trying to smear?”
“That would dilute the situation,” Anne said slowly. “And take the spotlight away from me.”
“So, who’s our choice?”
“Let’s make it a man.” Anne smiled. “What about Ross Montgomery? The middle-school principal? He’s a douche.”
“Ross? Perfect.” Holt looked happier by the second. “How can I help? My game and practice schedule right now...”
“I understand,” Anne said calmly. “You can leave it to me.”
Ross Montgomery had a hell of a week. He’d been the middle-school principal in Travis for fifteen years, and he planned to die in harness there. He’d gotten things just the way he liked them, as he told everyone who would listen. His assistant did most of the work, Ross could bully his secretary (which made him feel important), and the kids weren’t too bad since most of them were small enough to be cowed.
Ross drove into the staff parking lot just before the first bell on a Wednesday. He saw no point in getting there any earlier. As he strode up the sidewalk to the front door, he noticed a clump of students pointing and looking up. Naturally, he looked up too. The banner (which had started life as a white sheet) hanging between the U.S. flagpole and the state flagpole had blue painted writing; it looked the same as the pictures of the one left for Anne DeWitt, Ross remembered. ROSS DATES DONKEYS, this one read.
Ross had had a few belly laughs about Anne DeWitt’s problem, along with a lot of other people. Now the shoe was definitely on the other foot.
Though the damn kids weren’t supposed to have cell phones, of course some did. Before Ross could confiscate the phones, at least three children had taken pictures and sent them. There was never any way to hide anything now!
In the ensuing week, Ross Montgomery received ten fifty-pound bags of manure, dumped in the schoolyard despite his protests. Ross loathed the Clemson Tigers with a mighty passion, which was no secret. He found stuffed tigers of all descriptions hanging from the trees in his front yard when he got up on Monday morning. One was glued to his front door.
Ross called Anne DeWitt later that day. She was the one person uniquely qualified to sympathize with him, he figured. Ross forgot all the sly remarks he’d made about Anne’s “first husband,” her black bouquet, and the sign over the high-school entrance... and of course, the stripper. If he expected Anne to exhibit some collegial feeling, Ross was sorely disappointed.
Not only did Anne DeWitt offer no sympathy, she barely responded to his complaints. “Sorry, Ross. I’m really snowed under today,” she said. “It won’t last forever.” Ross didn’t know if she meant the work or the persecution.
The same police detectives visited Ross, Nedra Crosby and Leland Stroud. They reviewed security footage of the middle school and only discerned a slim person about five foot eight, swaddled in sweat pants, a ski mask, and a hoodie. The person arrived with a stepstool and all the other materials needed to hang the banner, and that was that. Quick in and out, no shot of the face. During the tiger-hanging incident, Ross’s neighbors had seen nothing. And the individual who’d paid for the manure had left a note and cash to book the delivery. The note had been signed in a good imitation of Ross’s signature.
The smart-ass remarks and the derision switched from Anne to Ross Montgomery. As all the other school principals in the area realized they could be targeted next, the laughter died down and the worry started up.
After four days, Anne judged the right effect had been achieved.
She’d been gathering information about Lois Krueger, Carrie Ambrose, and Melayna Tate, of course, including a look at their employment records. She laid her plans. She would set them in motion the next day, after she attended the funeral of the husband of one of the bus drivers.
Anne was definitely in the mood to tackle a problem. The funeral-home director had caught Anne in a corner to urge her to make “pre-need” arrangements.
So Anne requested that Carrie come in to Anne’s office to talk about the lab equipment, which Carrie had complained was inadequate.
Their discussion was short and to the point. Though Carrie was not the brightest teacher at Travis High, she knew her math. Carrie could prove that there wasn’t enough basic equipment to go around, and knew the percentage of breakage every year. Anne agreed to find enough money in the budget to bring the lab up to par. It was a cordial meeting. Anne carefully maneuvered the conversation to cover first husbands, dating, and Carrie’s hometown.
“Bowling Green,” Carrie said. “My former husband got a job here, so off we went.” She shrugged. “But I’m not sorry. It’s nice in Travis.”
“You’ve taught in Bowling Green and Travis, nowhere else?” Anne said casually.