"Mornin', class!"
The class responded to her cheerful salutation with a somewhat sleepy response, "Good Morning, Mrs. Mitchell." Fully expecting Mrs. Mitchell to make a scene and introduce herself, Tristan braced herself for questions. But it never happened. Mrs. Mitchell treated her like any of the other students who had been in her class over the last few weeks, something for which Tristan was highly grateful.
"I understand that the class was given an assignment by the previous teacher, and that presentations were supposed to start today. I am going to give a week deadline, so that everyone can polish theirs to perfection. Presentations will start tomorrow for those who are ready," Mrs. Mitchell promised the class. "Also,” she went on, “I am hearing that you all were assigned specific family members and that some of you had an issue with the person you were designated." Mrs. Mitchell walked around the room at a casual pace as she spoke, non-threatening, unintimidating. "Please. I want you to be comfortable with the assignments you are given in this class. If you would rather do it on another family member or guardian, by all means, do so. The idea of this assignment is not to make you uncomfortable but to teach you how to unearth details and prepare them in a clear and concise manner."
Tristan looked surprised as the teacher spoke to the class. She was not used to this type of teaching at all, and she was thrilled beyond belief to be in Mrs. Mitchell's class. She no longer had to worry about this assignment. She could easily write it on anyone she would like within her family. Who would she choose? There were so many choices. Tristan decided that she would have to give it some more thought. Mrs. Mitchell continued.
"I want my students to be comfortable in this class. This is not a place where you should have discomfort or anxiety. If something bothers you, please tell me, and I will try to work around it. I am here to help you, but be prepared to work. I might not be by the book, but I am responsible for molding thirty minds this year, and by Jove! Your minds will be molded!" Mrs. Mitchell spoke with passion, excitement, and with more vigor than any of the students had ever heard before.
When the 3:00 bell rang, Liam and Adam were waiting outside on the school steps for their younger siblings and cousin. The typical victorious eruption of students flooded the steps, threatening to barrel them over. Lesser men would have been trampled. Shane was the first among them, kicking the door open as if it was the last day of term. Behind him, crowds of students followed excitedly, thrilled to be out of school. After the high-energy sea of charcoal gray and scarlet uniforms began to disperse, a more sedated group of students began to make its way out the door. Tommy, Cole, Blake, and Tristan emerged, as Adam moved towards Tristan.
"Anybody bother you today?"
Tristan grinned. "Just Mandell, but Tommy got him."
Liam patted his younger brother hard on the back, showing his approval.
"All right. Let's get home. Aunt Bridgette is cooking dinner,” said Adam with a smirk.
“Yay! Pizza!” said Shane.
*
As the Morrows tried to return to some normalcy, Sergeant DiNolfo was up to her eyeballs in paperwork. She finally got to do a thorough read-through of the case files. She now sees what Earl and Amos were so concerned about. They had their hands in just about every cash register in town, including Trafford’s and Harrow’s General Store. Amos and Earl’s police testimony back in ’81 had completely differed from the evidence documented in the file. It appeared that they did try to build a case honestly, and upon questioning Amos and Earl, they claimed that they were close to pinning it on Kendricks when he offered them hush money. Then when they couldn’t blame Catherine’s death on Jack, they froze the case collecting their monthly one-thousand dollars from Bernard Kendricks. Then the rumors started in town that Jack was really the killer, which was obviously far from the truth. The case file would be six inches thick by the time she sorted out their mess and added her own reports. DiNolfo put Rutledge and Conway as leads in obtaining the warrant and performing the search for Kendricks’ apartment and classroom; however, they didn’t find much information. The date book on his desk only included student assignment information, and his apartment was unremarkable other than the wall of photographs. There was still the matter of questioning Benson, and she needed to contact the Pittsburgh Police Department and let them know what she found out. She definitely had her work cut out for her, and with two deputies short, everyone else would have to pull their own weight while she got this figured out.
*