Chapter 11 - The Lady in White Shoes
Ben's body went cold.
He crouched immediately.
"Clara, who told you that?"
She looked around the room full of adults and shrank toward him.
Detective Cole softened her voice. "We can talk somewhere quieter."
They moved to the counselor's office. Ben sat beside Clara on the small couch while Scout lay at her feet.
Clara rubbed one sneaker against the other.
"It was after Grandma picked me up from art club. A lady came out of the office and said Dad was very busy and I shouldn't keep calling during work."
"Did you know her?"
"I thought she worked here."
"What did she look like?"
Clara described a dark jacket, a school lanyard, brown hair tucked under a cap, and white shoes with a black triangle.
"She said you asked her to tell me."
Ben kept his voice steady with effort.
"I never asked anyone to tell you that."
Clara's chin trembled. "I know now."
"How long ago?"
"Maybe two weeks."
The same week Margaret Reed had complained about the Veterans Day assembly.
Detective Cole asked, "Did the woman give you anything?"
Clara nodded.
"A note. I put it in my project folder because I was mad."
Ben looked at Ms. Harrow, who had brought the damaged folder into the office.
She opened it carefully.
Pages were bent. One corner was torn. Red ink crossed the title page.
Between two sheets, they found a folded yellow sticky note.
Clara recognized it immediately.
"That's it."
Cole unfolded it.
STOP CONTACTING STAFF FROM THE FIELD. ALL COMMUNICATION MUST GO THROUGH M. REED.
At the bottom were Ben's initials.
Except Ben hadn't written them.
"Someone forged this," he said.
Ms. Harrow stared at the handwriting.
"I know that print style."
Keene, standing under police supervision near the door, laughed. "Here we go again."
Ms. Harrow ignored him.
She took a red grading pen from her cardigan pocket and wrote three words on a blank sheet.
Then she placed the note beside it.
The capital R. The narrow E. The hard downward stroke on the D.
They matched.
Ms. Harrow's face went gray.
"This is my handwriting."
Clara looked at her.
"You wrote it?"
Ms. Harrow whispered, "No."
May you like
Then she turned to Keene.
"But someone has been practicing it."
