inches from me and I never suspected anything.”
“And you’re convinced that the waitress was in on it?”
“The barman told the FBI that she vanished about five minutes before Leopold left, and never came back. Could be a coincidence, but I don’t think so.”
“Okay, but it’s still not a fact. Not yet.” She riffled through some papers. “But I have something here that is a fact.”
He sat up. “What?”
“Six students and three adults were killed at the school. Five of the students were male.”
“And Debbie Watson was the lone female.”
“But the five males were all on the football team. Or three were, technically. One was a team manager, and one had gotten kicked off recently for some rule violation.”
Decker sat up even straighter. “Beth Watson said that Jimmy Schikel was on the team. But I didn’t make a connection with the others. Because of Debbie and the adults.”
“And, Joe Kramer, while the gym teacher, was also the football coach.”
“And the assistant principal?”
“Barry Dresden has no connection to the team that I could find. He has no kids at the school, so none of them could be on the team. And then there’s Andy Jackson.”
“But he was killed because he confronted the shooter. It might be that the others were targeted because of their connection to the football team.”
“But Dresden had no such ties.”
“But all of the male student victims plus the coach? That can’t be a coincidence, Mary. The odds are way too long. There were lots of targets in each of those classrooms. He had to know who he was shooting. Wait a minute, were the victims all large? Did they look like football players?”
“Two did, the others were normal-sized. So I doubt he could have picked them solely on their physical appearance. They wear their game jerseys on Fridays before the football game, but the shooting didn’t happen on a Friday. But he could have easily found out which ones were on the team. And he could have found their class schedules too. Or Debbie could have told him. And if so, maybe she knew what he was planning to do.” She paused. “But anyway, I wanted you to know what I had found out.”
He looked at her appreciatively. “That’s good work, Mary. No one else saw that, including me.”
She smiled wearily. “Well, I’m not used to getting somewhere before you, so it does feel good. But what does it mean, Amos?”
“I played on the football team here. They took all of my trophies. It could be just another way of getting back at me. Another facet of their vendetta.” He lapsed into silence.
“What?”
“Dresden, the assistant principal, was targeted. The shooter went to the office to kill him. Debbie and Jackson can be explained away. But not Dresden. If he has no ties to the football team, then why was he killed?”
“You mean the reason might not be your playing football here? Despite their taking the trophies?”
“Yes. But if not that, what?”
“I have no idea,” admitted Lancaster.
“Well, it won’t do us any good beating our heads against the wall on it until we find out more. But we do have someplace to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“The bar.”
“You thirsty?”
“Yeah, but not for a beer.”
Chapter
46
A SNOWFLAKE DRIFTED down as Decker stood across the street from the bar, Lancaster at his side. The flake hit the sidewalk and then melted almost immediately.
Lancaster pulled out a handkerchief and blew her nose.
“If you don’t want to go in, can we wait in the car at least?” she asked. “It’s freezing and I feel the flu coming on.”
Decker had taken in the city block grid by grid, and then his gaze started over and went through it again. He began to walk and Lancaster hurried after him. They covered both sides of the street for a block in either direction.
“No cameras,” he noted.
“Burlington has surveillance cameras, just not everywhere. I hear that London and New York have them on every street. But we don’t have their tax base, do we?”
“There are private surveillance cameras,” said Decker. “Banks, pawn shops, liquor stores. But none that I can see. Can you check on that? See if there are any on this block?”
“I’ll put in a call.” She did so while Decker continued to look around. A few more flakes were falling, and overhead the clouds had thickened with moisture. If the temperature continued to fall they might get some real accumulation.
They want me.
The barman brought their drinks and said, “Hey, man, you cost me some business the other day. Cops all over the place. Scared away half my customers.”
“You get paid the same, right?” said Lancaster bluntly.
“Tips, honey,” said the barman. “I live on my tips.” He put an electronic cigarette to his lips and took a puff. “You think the owners of this place pay an actual living wage? If you do, get your head examined.”
Decker said, “I’m sure your waitresses rely on their tips too.”