Sleeping Beauty Page 6
Chapter Seven
Terri was shown into Casey Van Meter’s office a little after four. The dean was wearing an elegantly tailored black silk suit, and her hair and makeup were perfect.
“Sit down, Terri. I’m glad you dropped by. I’m getting glowing reports about Ashley.”
“Thank you. She’s having a great time. Living in the dorm with the other girls and working with the children has been a wonder cure.”
“I’m glad to hear that. So, what brings you here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about one of your teachers but I don’t want the teacher to know that I’ve been investigating.”
“Investigating? That sounds serious.”
“It is. But before I tell you anything more I want to make sure that you’ll treat the inquiry confidentially.”
“I’m not certain that I can do that without knowing why you’re asking. The welfare of our students is paramount.”
Terri wasn’t sure how to proceed. She had promised Detective Birch that she would keep his confidences but she needed to know more about Joshua Maxfield, and Dean Van Meter might have some of the information she needed.
“I’m in a funny position,” Terri explained. “I have suspicions about one of your faculty but I don’t want to tell you why, right now, because I don’t want to get this person in trouble if I’m wrong.”
“Whom are we talking about?”
“Joshua Maxfield. I’d like to know if there’s anything in his background that’s…suspicious.”
The dean sighed. She even looked a bit relieved. “You’d find out anyway with a little digging, and I don’t want you to think that the Academy is hiding anything. Joshua did not leave his teaching position at Eton College voluntarily. He was forced to resign.”
“What happened?”
“His first novel did very well but his second book was a failure both critically and financially. Then Joshua developed a terrible case of writer’s block. He’d been given an advance for another novel but he couldn’t write it. A conglomerate bought his original publisher. The new owners demanded that Joshua meet his deadline or return his advance. Unfortunately, he’d spent the money. He was desperate for a job. Eton College was looking for a creative writing teacher. He applied. Joshua’s name was still golden in academic circles but he didn’t know that so he made an unfortunate decision.”
“What did he do?”
“He doctored his résumé. It was totally unnecessary but Joshua wasn’t thinking clearly. He claimed that he had an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop when, in fact, he had attended for less than a semester.”
“How did the school find out?’
“Joshua was under tremendous pressure to repay the advance. The publisher was threatening a lawsuit. He started drinking and acting erratically. He was depressed, not writing, that sort of thing. He missed classes. Then there was an incident with a student…”
“What sort of incident?”
“She claimed he offered to give her an A if she slept with him. During the inquiry the school discovered the discrepancy on his résumé. He was given the choice of resigning or being fired.”
“Why did you hire him if you knew all this?”
“Joshua came to us more than a year or so after he left New England. He was completely open with us about his problems at Eton. He admitted propositioning the coed. He said he did it when he was drunk and depressed after getting another letter from a lawyer about the advance. We felt that it was worth the risk to have a writer of Joshua’s caliber on our faculty. To our knowledge, he has not betrayed our trust.”
“What I’m concerned about is a lot more serious than lying on a résumé.”
Casey looked confused. “Please be more specific.”
Terri hesitated. Her evidence was far from overwhelming.
“Will you promise to keep what I tell you between us?”
“All right, but I’m only agreeing because I need to know if there is any possibility that our students might be affected.”
“I’m taking Joshua’s writing class. We’re supposed to submit something we’re working on. Each week, he’s going to read our submissions, then the class critiques the work.”
“Yes?” Casey asked impatiently.
“He read a very disturbing piece at the first class. It was in the first person. It was about a serial killer and it went into detail about the rape and dismemberment of a girl Ashley’s age and her parents. It was horrible and very graphic.”
“I can see how that would be disturbing but…”
“Anyone who could write something like that has to be sick.”
“Joshua is a novelist, Terri. There’s a book featuring a serial killer on every bestseller list. Do you think those authors are murderers?”
“You don’t understand. Maxfield knew things that happened in my house when Ashley was attacked that the police never released to the public.”
Casey’s look was halfway between shock and amusement, as if she was unsure if she was the butt of a practical joke. Terri looked grim.
“You’re serious?” the dean said.
Terri told Casey Van Meter about the snack. The dean paid close attention. When Terri was through, Casey shook her head.
“I’m not convinced. How do you know that Joshua was reading something he’d written?”
“I know it wasn’t written by any of the other students. I talked to all of them. And he told me that he’s working on a new book.”
“Yes, but…” Casey stopped. She shook her head. “I find this very hard to believe. I know Joshua…”
“You think you know him. I’ve been reading about the pathology of serial killers. People assume that it would be easy to spot the type of person who could…could kill my husband and attack two helpless teenage girls but you can’t tell just by looking at them. Ann Rule worked side by side with Ted Bundy on the rape hotline in Seattle while she had a contract to write about the murders he was committing as soon as the case was solved. She never suspected that she was a friend of the man who would become the subject of her first bestseller. And think about the usual reaction of neighbors when they learn they’ve been living next door to someone like John Wayne Gacy. They can’t believe that the nice guy they’ve chatted with about mundane things like their lawn or a favorite TV show could be a monster.”
“That may be true, but I’m sure you’re wrong about Joshua.”
“There was the incident with the female student at Eton College.”
“He didn’t murder her, Terri. He made an indecent proposition. That’s very different from serial murder.”
“Then how did he know about the snack?”
Casey remembered what Maxfield had said when she asked him if he really knew how to plant a bomb in a car.
“He’s a writer of fiction. He’s very creative. He earns his living by making up scenes that we could never conceive because we don’t have his imagination.”
“No, I don’t buy it. That would be too much of a coincidence.”
Casey paused. She looked upset. “Why did you come to me, Terri? Let’s assume that you’re right, that Joshua is a killer. What do you expect me to do?”
“You have access to Maxfield’s personnel file. There have been other murders in New England, the Midwest, Montana, and Idaho. Maybe there’s something in his file.”
Casey looked concerned. “You’re so emotionally involved that I don’t think you’ve thought this through clearly. Have you told your suspicions to the police?”
“No.”
Casey took a deep breath. “Thank goodness. Think of the harm you’d do to this school’s reputation if one of our teachers was wrongly accused of any kind of crime, let alone being a serial killer who preys on children the same age as our students.”
“I don’t intend to talk to anyone about my suspicions until I’m certain I’m right. That’s why I’ve come to you. Let me take a look at Maxfield’s file…”
“Certainly not.”
Casey hesitated for a moment, then made a decision.
“All right. I can see how concerned you are about this. I’ll take another look at his file. If I find something I’ll tell you. But you have to promise me that you won’t go any further with this unless you have hard evidence. The damage to the Academy and Joshua would be irreparable.”
“I don’t want to hurt Joshua if he’s innocent but I’ll do everything I can to put him in prison if he killed my husband.”
Waves of doubt assailed Terri during the drive home. Was she jumping to conclusions because of a work of fiction? Was she right to break her promise to Larry Birch? Would there be consequences to the police investigation because she had revealed the information about the snack to Casey Van Meter? Should she take Ashley out of school immediately? If Joshua Maxfield was a serial killer, her daughter was in grave peril.
Terri heard the phone a moment after she opened the front door to her house. She rushed into the kitchen and picked up on the fifth ring.
“Terri, thank God I caught you,” Casey Van Meter said. She sounded short of breath and very tense.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got to talk to you. I went through Joshua’s file. There’s something in it.”
“What?”
“I can’t talk now. Can you come to the school, tonight?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t want to meet in my office. Do you know how to get to the boathouse by the service road?”
“No.”
“Go a quarter of a mile past the main entrance. There’s a gravel road that follows the river and ends at the boathouse. Meet me at eight.”
Terri started to ask another question but the dean said she couldn’t talk and hung up. Terri sat down at the kitchen table. Energy coursed through her. If Casey Van Meter had discovered something solid, she could take it to Larry Birch. There was no way that Maxfield’s arrest could bring Norman back, but Ashley would be safe if his killer was behind bars. Terri looked at her watch. It was almost six. In two hours she would know if she was closer to putting her husband’s killer in prison.
Chapter Eight
Ashley had been serious about soccer since she was in elementary school, and she always put in the extra effort it took to be the best. In addition to the daily workouts at the soccer clinic, she ran every night around eight. Sally Castle ran with her on most evenings, but her roommate had an upset stomach tonight and had begged off.
Ashley liked running along the shaded paths that twisted through the forest on the school grounds, because the thick canopy kept the route cool even on warm days. Tonight there was an extra spring in Ashley’s step. After the morning session, the Academy coach had pulled her aside and told her that there was an excellent chance that she would be the starting center forward in the fall. Ashley knew that she was better than the other Academy girls who played that position but it was nice to hear the coach say that it was hers if she worked for it.
Just when her spirits were highest, Ashley remembered that her father wouldn’t see her play this year. Ashley had started to climb out of her depression after visiting the Oregon Academy. As soon as she moved to the dorm and began working as a counselor there were large parts of the day when she was actually happy. But there were dark periods, too; moments when she would remember Tanya’s muffled screams or recall her father’s death. On occasion, these moments would be more than memories. Ashley would re-experience the events as if they were happening now. Her heart rate would accelerate; she would break into a sweat and grow dizzy. Only force of will kept her from being paralyzed by sorrow.
As soon as she thought about Norman Spencer, Ashley’s energy slackened and tears pooled in her eyes. She didn’t want this to happen. She told herself that her father would be happy if he learned that she was going to start on a nationally ranked team. She had vowed to dedicate her senior year to his memory.
Norman had tried to be at every one of her games, but he had missed a few. Ashley was in second grade the first time that happened. She had been very upset until Terri told her that her father’s spirit was always with her, even when he wasn’t rooting for her on the sidelines. Ashley had felt him inside her during the game, urging her to do her best, and she had scored three goals. Now she conjured up Norman ’s spirit. She took deep breaths as the good feeling filled her. When she smiled, the anxiety dissipated and she knew Norman was still with her.
Ashley ran through the quadrangle and down the road to the large parking lot where one of the trails started. Shadows dappled the forest floor, and a light breeze caressed her arms. The air smelled of pine and wildflowers. Within minutes, Ashley settled into a rhythm that moved her forward with a loose and practiced stride.
After a while the path turned parallel to the river, and she could see the water rolling by through breaks in the trees. The air was still, and there was a blanket of silence broken occasionally by the songs of birds. Something moved in her peripheral vision. Ashley turned her head and saw Joshua Maxfield walking in the direction of the boathouse. Then the trees thickened and she lost sight of him. She was not surprised to see Mr. Maxfield. All the girls knew that he lived in a cottage near the river. Many of them had a crush on the handsome novelist. There were stories about girls he was rumored to have seduced, though Ashley doubted they were true.
Ashley remembered the way her mother had acted around the writing teacher on the day they toured the campus. Terri’s reaction had surprised and upset her. Ashley didn’t like her mother showing an interest in a man so soon after her father’s death, but sometimes people acted silly around celebrities, and Mr. Maxfield was a famous writer.
A high-pitched scream tore through the silence. Ashley froze in mid-stride. A second scream forced her backward off the trail. The screams were like the light in the second before sunset-riveting and scarlet for one second and gone without a trace the next. Silence blanketed the forest again. The screams had come from behind Ashley, in the direction of the boathouse. She strained to hear anything that would give her a clue to what had just happened. She battled with herself as she waited, terrified by the screams but compelled by her conscience to find the person who had made them.
Ashley forced herself to jog toward the boathouse. She moved cautiously, alert for the slightest sound or movement. When she caught sight of the rectangular wooden building between breaks in the trees she left the path and crept through the forest. There was a narrow gravel road that followed the river and stopped on the east side of the building. The south side abutted the river and the forest came up to the west wall. A pale light bled out of one of the windows on the north side.
Ashley heard a high-pitched shout that was muffled by the boathouse walls. She kept low and darted to the closest window before rising just high enough to see inside. The windowpane was coated with dust and the interior was dark. A flashlight rolled back and forth on the floor next to one of the boat slips. Its beam cast a pale glow that illuminated the legs and torso of a woman who was slumped against one of the thick oak columns that supported the roof. She was not moving. Standing over her was Joshua Maxfield.
Ashley gasped involuntarily. Maxfield swiveled toward the window. He was holding a hunting knife with a serrated blade that was soaked with blood. Maxfield’s eyes bored through the glass and into Ashley. She stood up. Maxfield took a step forward. A motorboat bobbed at anchor in its slip.
Next to the boat was a second body.
Ashley tore through the woods. She heard the boathouse door smack against the wall as it was flung open. Maxfield was fast, but so was Ashley. She had to be in better shape. She worked out hard all the time.
Twigs snapped and branches broke as Maxfield crashed through the trees. Ashley decided that her only hope was to reach the dorm. There was a security guard and other people there. The light was starting to fail. In
moments it would be dark. Ashley strained to see the path that led to the main campus. She spotted it and broke out of the woods. Adrenaline fueled her headlong plunge down the trail. It curved, and Ashley saw the parking lot. She gritted her teeth. The dorm was so close. Her running shoes pounded the asphalt. She slashed across the quadrangle searching for another human being, but the school was deserted except for the counselors and the students in the soccer clinic.
Ashley rounded the side of the science building. The dorm was at the other end of a narrow parking lot. Moments later, she was through the door and screaming for help. The guard jumped up from his post and ran to her.
“He’s behind me. He’s got a knife.”
The guard gripped Ashley’s arms and stared over her shoulder.
“Who’s behind you?” he asked.
Ashley turned. There was no one there.
As soon as she realized that she had escaped from Maxfield, Ashley broke down. The guard summoned Laura Rice, a graduate student who was the summer dorm proctor. Sally Castle and some of the other summer residents were drawn to the lobby by Ashley’s cries. The proctor shooed them away but Sally insisted on staying with her roommate. Rice saw the wisdom in letting Ashley have a friend for company and she led the two girls to her office.
“Tell me what happened,” Rice said as soon as Ashley calmed down.
Ashley told her about the screams and what she’d seen through the boathouse window.
“You’re certain that the man who chased you was Joshua Maxfield?” Rice asked, fighting to hide her incredulity from her terrified charge.
“He looked right at me through the window.”
“But it was dark,” Rice argued, still finding it hard to picture the charming teacher as a murderer.
“Miss Rice, Joshua Maxfield killed those women.”
“All right, I’m not saying you didn’t see him but…”
“I saw him walking to the boathouse and seconds later I heard the screams. He was holding a knife. There was blood on it. He chased me.”