The Fixer

“No.” John Thomas’s voice was stiff. “There must have been something on the floor. We slipped.”

 

 

John Thomas Wilcox might have been a psychotic jerk, but he was a psychotic jerk who didn’t want any blemishes on his permanent record.

 

The headmaster clearly did not believe us, but just as clearly, he didn’t seem to fancy the idea of dealing with any of our parents. So instead, he launched into a lecture on personal responsibility, which I tuned out approximately five seconds in.

 

My eyes drifted to the photograph on the wall behind him—the same one I’d noticed the last time I was here. Six men: three in the back row, two in the front, one off to the side. I recognized William Keyes. But this time, I also recognized the man standing beside Headmaster Raleigh. Balding. Early fifties. Deep-set eyes.

 

Judge Pierce.

 

And in front of Pierce stood Vivvie’s father.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 34

 

I needed to get another look at that picture. The president’s physician. An appeals court judge from Arizona. The idea of them being in the same place at the same time, in that small of a group . . .

 

Your sister’s just trying to establish a timeline, Vivvie had told me. How my father got involved, when he got involved, how he and Pierce know each other, if they know each other.

 

I wanted to know when that picture had been taken, where it had been taken. I wanted to know who else was in it. And I wanted to know what Adam’s father had been doing there.

 

And that meant that I needed to arrange another visit to the headmaster’s office.

 

“You look like someone who’s thinking deep thoughts.” Asher slid in beside me at lunch. “Deep thoughts about telling me what you’ve spent the past two days not telling me, perhaps?”

 

Asher probably wasn’t expecting an answer, but I gave him one. “When I called the second number on that phone, someone answered. I know who it was, and I might have found a clue that could tell us how that person and Vivvie’s father know each other.”

 

“This new, forthcoming Tess is a strange and wonderful thing,” Asher remarked. “Should I be suspicious?”

 

I answered his question with a question. “How good are you at getting sent to the headmaster’s office for something that won’t actually get you expelled?”

 

Asher smiled beatifically, as if he’d been waiting his whole life for someone to ask just that question. “How would you feel about some Mentos and Diet Coke?”

 

 

 

As it turned out, the Hardwicke administration was not terribly fond of explosions. Asher and I sat outside the headmaster’s office, awaiting judgment.

 

The headmaster’s assistant shook her head at the two of us. “Weren’t you just in here a few hours ago?” she asked me.

 

I did my best to look ashamed—and probably failed miserably. She turned her attention to my companion. “Asher Rhodes. What are we going to do with you?”

 

“Win me over with patience and gentle correction?” Asher suggested.

 

In retrospect, I probably should have taken the fall for this particular explosion myself, but I needed to get a good look at the photo on Raleigh’s wall, and that meant that I needed someone to distract the headmaster while I did it.

 

“Mr. Rhodes?” Headmaster Raleigh appeared at the door to his office. “I’ll see you first.”

 

Asher and I glanced at each other. The plan required us to go in together.

 

“Ladies first,” Asher said. “I insist.”

 

The headmaster sighed. “All right,” he capitulated. “Ms. Kendrick, I’ll see you first.”

 

“Don’t you think that’s kind of sexist?” I asked the secretary. She froze.

 

“I’m sure it’s not,” she said, not sounding sure in the least.

 

“Chivalry isn’t sexist,” Asher told me.

 

“If you’re suggesting that females need special treatment because they’re female,” I replied, “it kind of is.”

 

Headmaster Raleigh still hadn’t quite recovered from the accusation of sexism. “Asher,” he started to say. Then he changed his mind. “Tess.” He scowled. “Both of you, my office, now.”

 

The headmaster turned around. Asher winked at me, then followed the man into his office. I entered the room last and closed the door behind us. Immediately, my eyes found the picture I was looking for on the wall.

 

William Keyes. Judge Pierce. Major Bharani. A glare off the picture frame made it difficult for me to see any of them clearly.

 

“Ms. Kendrick, are you listening to me?” Headmaster Raleigh asked.

 

Not in the least. “Yes, sir.” The sir seemed to appease him somewhat.

 

“We have a zero tolerance policy for weapons here at Hardwicke,” the man continued.

 

“Can it really be considered a weapon if you can eat it?” I asked.

 

“Or drink it,” Asher added.

 

“If it explodes, it’s a weapon,” the headmaster declared. “I’m afraid the two of you have put me in a very difficult position.”

 

“I can only imagine,” Asher said consolingly. “You’ll probably have to suspend me from the lacrosse team.”

 

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