Since Charly was in no position to incur any such cost, she was staying right where they put her.
Even if it was in Low Town.
Even if it was in a complex once deemed, according to an old news article she saw online, to be ground zero in the town’s growing crime wave.
It wasn’t lost on her, either, as she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower water, that no other dean of students that had previously worked for the school had been assigned an apartment in Low Town. And she didn’t even have to ask anybody if her theory was in fact true. She just knew it was.
But she wasn’t going to let that bother her either. She’d lived in far worse places in her life after Darryl died. She could handle it.
Besides, she had a plan. She would stay right where the board placed her, let them continue to pay the rent as per her contract, and she would save her money. If she lasted in Kentucky, and was able to keep her job after that first probationary year, she’d take her nest egg and put down on a home of her own. In an area of town of her choosing. But she wasn’t making any long-term commitments, or spending any big money on anything, until she had more to work with. It was still too iffy in Kentucky for her to feel completely at home.
But if that board thought that she was going to up and move right away and save them money - money she knew they didn’t want to spend on the likes of her anyway, they didn’t know her at all. The fact that they would put her up in such a place told her all she needed to know about their intentions. She wasn’t going to let them know a damn thing about hers.
After showering and dressing, she made herself a hot cup of coffee. At least the place was clean and furnished, and supplied with all the creature comforts she would need. At least they did that right.
But she still felt some kind of way for how they weren’t giving her the kind of respect her position accorded. But that would change, at least she hoped, once she proved her worth. And if it didn’t, so be it. She’d, sadly, move on once again.
It was Saturday, she had slept later than she’d planned, and the complex she now lived in was humming with activity. She sat at the small kitchen table and opened her blinds. Young men were washing their old but well-maintained cars. Young ladies were parading around like peacocks in skimpy outfits. And children were running around as if life was theirs to have and hold. Charly smiled. Put the black lady in the black area of town around her people. That was what they did. But this seemed to be a happy place, filled with happy people, unlike that drab school that had been, on her first day on the job, a crime scene. Charly wasn’t mad at all.
But she also couldn’t stop thinking about that crime, and the fact that her supervisor had been accused of committing it.
And the fact that he had asked some teacher to give her that note. He wanted to see her.
She also couldn’t stop thinking about his last words before he was arrested. I didn’t do it, he said to Chief Ryan, although the chief didn’t believe him.
But what if it was true, Charly wondered? What if Amos Yerkson was telling the truth?
She considered herself a good judge of character. And she’d seen in Amos Yerkson, when she first met him, a decent guy. A little too flirty for his own good? Yes. She saw that too. But a decent guy. Why would he kill that girl? But she also had to wonder why would he have lied about so many aspects of his relationship with that girl? He even lied about knowing her!
And Chief Ryan, she thought, as she sipped her coffee and looked out at her neighbors. There was something about him that she liked, if she were to be honest, but there was something about him that repulsed her too. His bossiness or arrogance or something. And the way he jacked up that teacher at the faculty meeting yesterday was a sight to behold. That man had a terrible temper. He was the absolute last guy on earth she needed to show any interest in.
And how he seemed so convinced of Yerkson’s guilt right away defied logic to her too. Yes, Amos lied. And yes, it didn’t look good for him. But surely it didn’t look worthy of arresting him immediately. He tried to paint Amos as some conniving womanizer who’d kill another human being because she asked for more money. He didn’t say she was blackmailing him. He only said she just wanted another handout. Charly knew bad men in her past, with her deceased husband being at the top of that list. Amos didn’t appear to her to be that kind of person.
Besides, her parents always taught her to make up her mind about people for herself. They disavowed her when she took up with Darryl because they knew he was no good, and she refused to see it, but her upbringing stayed with her despite their abandonment. She had to make up her mind about Amos for herself. And it wasn’t going to be based on the fact that Chief Ryan had arrested him.
And he did ask to see her.
And two people were already pointing the finger at somebody else, although she had no idea if the chief had already found that Dalbert Lee person and ruled him in or out as a suspect. He wasn’t keeping her abreast of his investigation, and why should he?
But still. There were enough what ifs to intrigue Charly.
She got up, poured the last of her coffee down the drain, and grabbed her purse and keys. It was Saturday. There were a number of things she could have been doing and going to see Amos Yerkson, and Chief Ryan by default, wasn’t supposed to be on that list. But it was.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Boone Ryan had a hangover. He was in his office and didn’t want to be bothered. Leaned back in his chair, with a cold compress on his forehead, his bloodshot eyes were looking straight up at the ceiling. It needed a paint job.
He had been out at a pal’s bachelor party in Lexington Friday night, and the wine, women and song went on throughout the night. His not-so-young body was now screaming for an aspirin. “Culpepper!” he yelled. “Dontay!”
Knocks were heard on the office door, and then Dontay Culpepper hurried in. “Yes, sir?” he asked as he entered. It was a fast response, but Dontay had been standing at the door, about to knock anyway, when the chief yelled his name. “You called?”
“Of course I called!” Boone said with a frown on his face. “Where’s those aspirin I told you to bring to me? My head feels like a sledgehammer pounding on it!”
“I sent Betty over to Ethel Lynn’s,” Dontay said, “but she hasn’t gotten back yet. But she’s on her way. Any moment now she’ll be here. And also, you have a guest.”
Boone frowned again. “A guest? Who? Get rid of’em!”
“That’s not possible, sir?”
“Why not?” Then he looked down from the ceiling at his officer. “Is it Freddy?”
“No, sir, it’s not the mayor. It’s the dean from Saint Christopher’s.”
Boone sat erect. Just to know that Dean Johnson was anywhere near him made him feel oddly excited. “The dean?” he asked. “She’s here? What does she want?”
“I want to see Amos Yerkson,” Charly, who was standing right behind Dontay, said as she moved from behind him.
When Boone saw her, he removed his compress and embarrassingly stood up. He could have killed Dontay for not warning him beforehand! “Dean Johnson,” he said. “Come in!”
Charly walked on in.
Boone gave Dontay such a chilling look that Dontay almost ran away from the door. But his boss dismissed him before he could dismiss himself. “That’ll be all,” Boone said to him.