Hallow Springs

Twelve

We entered the school and approached the front desk. The receptionist recognized us immediately and without a word disappeared into the back to summon Principal Jack Saunders. He had been the principal of Hallow Springs Elementary for the last fifteen years. He had moved in from out of town to fill the opening and had charmed his way into the heart of every local family. His comb over was tight and his glasses were large and as usual he donned a short sleeve button down shirt with a tie and khakis worn high on his waist.

Judging by the lack of ring on his finger, Saunders was still single. He was one of the most eligible bachelors in the town for some time but had no interest in the married life. Now his looks were fading with age and it appeared that he was resigning himself to the single life for good. He kept his private life to himself but was social and loveable in public. Whether it be a football game, a town festival or a town hall meeting, Saunders was there as a pleasant and supportive attendee.

"Amanda..." he walked up and brought me in for a hug. "Donna, called up from the station and said you'd be coming." He said over my shoulder before he pulled away. He rubbed my arms a little bit in a comforting, sympathetic way before letting me go. "How are you doing?"

The question was obviously intended to carry with it more weight than usual.

"I'm okay."

"So you're a detective now?" he eyed me up and down, as if I was unveiling a new version of myself. "Finally putting that degree in Criminal Justice to good use?"

He was an academic who somehow knew everyone's educational resume in town.

"I hope... we got a missing person to find," I said in an effort to bring the attention off of me and back to our investigation. "We would just like to see Jeremy's classroom."

"Of course, of course." Saunders scurried past us and led the way. Peters and I followed him down the hall from behind. There were paintings of Doctor Seuss characters on the walls, James and the Giant Peach and the beasts from Where the Wild Things Are. A cotton ball snowman still hung from last winter alongside a row of handprint painted sunflowers proudly displayed outside a classroom. A different classroom had examples of jagged handwriting, still in development but achieving progress.

"The kids are going to lunch, right..." he lifted his wrist watch to his eye, "...now." Just then a bell rang throughout the halls. Classroom doors opened and a sea of students flowed out into the halls and past us. The kids played amongst each other as they made their way toward the cafeteria, not even noticing the two cops in the hall. I was used to people stopping in their tracks when I came to them. They couldn't care less – they were just smiling and chatting with each other, wrapped up in their own little, stress-free world. It restored some small hope for humanity in me. It made me just want to sit with them and learn all about their Pokemon cards and listen to every rendition of Frozen songs they could perform.

And then I saw her again...

Suzie was skipping down the hall. I could see her fire red hair bouncing as she playfully swung her Hello Kitty lunchbox in stride. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared down the hall at her. The halls continued to fill with student, making it hard for me to keep my gaze on her. She was barefoot, but didn't seem to mind. The mother inside of me wanted her to have shoes on, as if she was misbehaving at school and needed correction. But I still had to find them...

"Amanda..." Suzie kept bouncing down the hall and then she flipped her hair back at me. She was about to say something to me.

"Amanda!" I was jerked out of the vision to Peters who saw that I was in a daze. I tried to gather my bearings. I checked the mob of preteens again – no Suzie. I shook off the vision and continued on with them through the thinning current of students and faculty toward Jeremy's classroom.

"So this is his classroom," Saunders announced as we entered the room. There was a central desk at the head of the class, facing four rows of desks. An eerie quiet circulated about, as if class had been dismissed early. I imagined kids filling the seats and passing notes to each other while Jeremy's back was turned to the board. I wondered what he would have written and saw, written in big Expo'd letters, the words: What is the theme of this story?

Right underneath the question was the answer. Justice & Mercy.

I measured the stack of books on his desk and saw some classics – The Diary of Anne Frank, Hatchet, To Kill a Mockingbird, Treasure Island and then I plucked from the bottom of the stack a thick hardcover – Anna Karenina. I held it up as if to question its placement in a sixth-grade classroom.

"Is he teaching the kids Tolstoy already?" I jested, dropping the book back on the stack.

"I sure hope not!" Saunders chuckled. "The next PTA meeting sure would be interesting, if he was!"

"He seemed to always have a stack of books with him – a real book worm!"

"Yes, he is..." I combed the length of the desk, searching for any clues. I opened the drawer and found ten dollars, some loose pocket change, a bottle of Aspirin and a small daily planner opened to the week's calendar. I flipped back to last week's and read a Thursday entry.

Paul Maple – 3PM

I tilted the calendar toward Peters and Saunders and with one look asked them what they thought about it. Peters peered closer and after it made no sense to him, he asked Saunders with a glance. Saunders read the name carefully and then leaned back.

"Paul Marple is a student at the high school. He must be tutoring him after school."

"I thought Jeremy taught sixth grade."

"He is, but he tutors for all grades. One of the smartest teachers we got!" Saunders's face closed up tight as he heard himself. "...smartest teachers we have," he corrected himself, embarrassed by his error and its context. "Since the High School is on the same campus there is a lot of helping hands across schools. He's a huge help and everyone loves him for it. I couldn't imagine anyone having ill will toward him." For some reason it didn't settle well in me. I didn't know if I was not believing Saunders or if something just didn't smell right. As a detective you hone in on things that are out of sorts – this seemed that way. It could be nothing, but when you spend years developing your gut, you have to listen to it when it's talking to you.

Something was amiss.

I considered Jack Saunders in a new light. He was the principal of the school where our missing person worked. He kept rubbing his hands over each other and almost flinched in our presence. His scalp shined with light perspiration. Even if it was just a crazy hunch, I knew I was looking at my first suspect. I forced a smile over my face for appearances, but underneath it all – I was reeling.

"Thanks for letting us see the classroom. If you see anything unusual please let us know."

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