Page 42 of The Other Side
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The next morning, I was up early, a feat in itself, with the intention to sneak into the records room before class to look at the more recent yearbooks since I had a new name to search for.
“Violet!” Jolene exclaimed with her usual exuberance. Only I hadn’t expected her to be working so early, so her excitement startled me. The cartoonish, green-skinned witch on her sweater, on the other hand, may have frightened me just a bit more.
“Jolene,” I stuttered, hands clasped over my chest. “Hi.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up so early.” She giggled.
“Ha, ha,” I replied sardonically. It was only seven in the morning.
“Did you need help with something?”
“Actually, yes.” I couldn’t help but grin conspiratorially. “I got a new lead last night. Can you pull up all the students with the last name Roberts who attended the school between 2000 and 2015?” I decided to be overly generous with the time frame, just in case Chance had also lied about his age.
Jolene’s eyes widened at the request. “I have so many questions, I don’t know what to ask first.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Do you mean Roberts as in relatives of Montgomery’s most prolific alumni, Thomas Roberts?”
“Yeah, those Roberts,” I confirmed. “I’ll explain more later.” I grabbed the keys from Jolene’s desk to open up the records room, holding my breath as the odiferous miasma emanating from the room enveloped me.
I plucked six yearbooks from the shelf: the four that would have ranged from his freshman through senior year, if he was indeed thirty-one, and two more to add a year on either end, in case he’d been enrolled at an earlier or later age, and began combing through the student portraits each year.
There were plenty of Roberts, that was for sure, but none of them looked anything like Chance—or his parents, for that matter. I recalled reading that Thomas Roberts came from a large family when I had tried to do more online research the night before.
Checking through the class photos was taking longer than I planned, so I had to abandon the task to make it upstairs for my first period—Greek Mythology—my most popular class, with a promise to Jolene that I would return later to pick up where we had left off.
My abrupt arrival and disheveled appearance amused my students, but I was able to easily pick up the lecture I’d started the day before on the many lovers of Zeus and his penchant for turning into animals to seduce women who were not his wife. It was a rather salacious topic, in my opinion, but it kept a room of hormonal teenagers interested, so it was worth it.
The morning dragged, but eventually the lunch bell sounded, and I rushed out the door, down to the kitchen to grab food for myself and Jolene. I nearly avoided literally running intoChance, but he caught me around my waist just before I could face-plant into the food containers.
“Geez, Violet,” he chuckled, “where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“I—ugh…” I stammered, trying to think of an explanation, but failed. “I gotta go.” I ducked past him and scampered down the side hallway that spilled out into the front entrance and the stairway down to the basement offices.
“Nice seeing you!” Chance called out after me.
“Whoa—whoa—slow down.” Jolene grabbed my arm after I threw the boxes at her. “I have your list.” She held up a piece of yellow lined steno paper, filled with her eighth-grade bubble script, complete with little bubbles over the letters “I” and “J.”
“This is great!” I exclaimed, snatching the list from her and scanning it. She had written out names, years of attendance, and birthdays. “I’m going to cross-reference these.” I grinned.
“Helping Jolene with her work?” The headmaster appeared behind me, startling both Jolene and me.
My lips parted, at a loss for an adequate answer.
“Actually, Violet is still trying to figure out who wrote the research paper that might have been plagiarized.” Jolene stepped in. “Since she brings me food from the kitcheneveryday so I can work through lunch, I didn’t think you’d mind if I gave her a roster of her students from last year.”
Bravo, Jolene!
“Carry on,” he replied, with no hint of remorse, making his way up the main stairs, likely heading for the faculty lounge to eat lunch with the rest of the teachers.
A loud, relieved exhale escaped me, when he was out of sight.
“Nice cover, Jolene.” I gave her a high five.
She blushed at the appreciative gesture. “He wouldn’t get anything done if I wasn’t here.” She smirked, folding her armsover her chest. The action made the orange sequin eyes of the witch appear as though she was winking.
Of the twenty or so names that Jolene recorded, only four didn’t have mug shots, and two of those were girls. As such, I focused on finding any evidence of the two male Roberts that were left, Alexander and Edward.
I quickly ruled out Edward when I saw photos of him with the basketball team; he was tall and gangly, with large ears and spiky hair. There was nothing about him that looked remotely like Chance.
