“I’m letting you know that I’m uncomfortable with running your personal errands. In your email, you explained that you purchased new office supplies for yourself and you had a business luncheon as well as a dry cleaning bill that was to be charged to the school’s account. I never have understood why you think the school is responsible for your dry cleaning bills, and this one was a doozy, Dick. Who spends over three hundred dollars on dry cleaning, anyway?”
“I didn’t ask you to deposit any checks this morning. You had me sign those checks for the soda vendor, the water delivery guy, and the landscaper. I’ve never spent that much on dry cleaning!” He’s started to scream again, but I use my hand to indicate that I’d like it if he lowers his voice. His face is a much darker red now, and he’s breathing heavy.
“Silly, Dick. The district pays for the landscaper and the soda vendor, and Margot has already paid the water delivery guy through June. You see, I have all of that on my calendar. I wouldn’t have asked you to do such a thing. Did you know I’m obligated to report suspicious behaviors?”
“This is starting to sound like blackmail. The club is putting you up to this, aren’t they? I’ll have both Cheyenne Grady and Jeremy Whelan expelled for this. You’ll be fired, and I’ll bring charges against you for your part. That bunch of inbred felons can’t buy me.” His jaw trembles as he talks, his eyes are hard, and he’s struggling to pull in deep breaths.
“No, the club has no idea we’re having this conversation,” I say. Nor should they ever find out. I suspect Grady wouldn’t be too happy with me if he did. “Do you really think you have the upper hand here?”
“I haven’t done anything wrong,” he says lowly.
In the eleven years that he has served as principal at Fort Bragg High School, Richard Beck has only expelled seven students. One of those students actually set the library on fire—on purpose. The other six earned their expulsions the good old-fashioned way, by not showing up to class and letting their grades plummet. In addition to looking up Mr. Beck's expulsion rate, I took the liberty of pulling the former student files that we have on Forsaken family members since Mr. Beck's employment. Trying to explain to Grady the reason I needed the real names of his brothers was a huge pain in the butt. He used this really deep voice and guffawed at me as he said things like, "club business, babe," and, "appreciated, but keep your nose clean." Grady may have been adamant about not telling me when I first brought it up, but I was able to reason with him. As it turns out, Sterling Grady can be convinced of almost anything as long as you have his dick in your mouth.
Once he was able to see the value of my offer, I got to work. It didn't take me long to prove my suspicions right. Though Mr. Beck has only expelled seven students in his tenure, he has petitioned—extensively—for the removal of twelve. The five students he hadn't been able to expel were all related to the club. From his communication with the school board, it looks like he almost got Josh Wilcox expelled in his sophomore year. But just as he asked for leniency on behalf of Jeremy Whelan, Jim Stone had gone to bat for Josh Wilcox back in the day as well. Mr. Beck's reasons for attempting to expel these kids always comes back to one thing: a concern over their violent nature. And yet, there are no disciplinary records that indicate violent outbursts.
Still, something is going on here. Mr. Beck does everything by the book when it comes to Forsaken. He certainly doesn't like the club, and he doesn't like their kids, but the last doctored petition to the school board for immediate removal was sent two months prior to Ian Buckley's graduation, and it looks like they began just a few weeks after Ian, Ryan Stone, and Josh Wilcox started high school. Ryan and Josh ended up dropping out early on in their senior year anyway. While I'm not a fan of Mr. Beck's bullshit vendetta against club, it looks like it's possible that the three boys drove him to do things he hadn't done previously.
Until now.
“I’ve looked up your records, and I know the score. You hate the club and everything they stand for. You detest their kids, and you’ve made it a point to try to punish them time and time again. It must be frustrating to be unable to do your job properly because of the incredible influence of Forsaken.”
“You won’t be able to find employment in this town after this, Ms. Mercer,” he says. His voice is slowly steadying, but it doesn’t matter. His fingers still shake.
“Mr. Beck, this is how it’s going to go. I need something from you, and you need something from me,” I say, taking a play right out of Grady’s playbook. “I refuse to owe anybody any favors. You can keep your job and the two grand that was just deposited in your account if you just sign Jeremy Whelan’s work permit and back date it to this past July. If anybody should ask, you gave Jeremy permission to work while you prepared the permit, and of course, you’re so very sorry for any inconvenience your lateness may have caused.”