Page 76 of Return of the Spider
He returned to the ridge where he’d first shot at Bunny and retrieved his shell casing. He went back to Bunny’s grave and threw more forest debris on it. He cleaned up the shards of the snow globe. He used bleach to wipe dried blood off the rifle stock and the shovel and the pick handles. He burned the clothes he’d been wearing.
Soneji had finally left the cabin late Wednesday afternoon in the white van. He looped to the interstate, dropped south, and, under cover of darkness, returned the van to the shed on Diggs’s grandmother’s farm and retrieved his black Saab.
Then, after driving to a motel in Takoma Park, Maryland, where he often stayed when he was in the DC area, he’d broken his rule about mixing drugs and alcohol. He drank seven shots of bourbon, took two Vicodin, and passed out cold.
But not before he’d set the alarm. When it whooped at him at five that morning, Soneji roused himself enough to stand under a cold shower until he could almost believe he was sober, then put on his frumpy teacher disguise.
Now, sipping black coffee and getting closer to Washington Day with every step, he felt almost normal enough to play the affable, nerdy Gary Soneji, math and computer science teacher.
Half a block shy of the school, he saw a pay phone and looked at his watch. He still had twenty minutes. He decided he’d better check in with Missy.
Soneji called collect. Missy answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey, Missy,” Soneji said after she’d accepted the charges. “I know I’ve been a shit lately. But I just called to say I love you. And I love Roni.”
There was a long silence on the other end. “Don’t you think it’s time you showed us, and the world, exactly how much you love us?”
He knew what she was referring to—the wedding—but he said, “Tell you what, I’ll be home for dinner tomorrow. I’d like to give you something very special.”
“Okay?”
“Missy,” he said. “I guarantee it’s going to make you happy.”
“You’re sure?”
“I am,” he said. “Kiss Roni for me. I’ve got an early appointment. Love you.”
After another pause, Missy said, “I love you too, Gary.”
He hung up and hurried to the Washington Day campus, showed his ID to the security guard, and went to Bright Hall, where the computer lab occupied a large room on the third floor.
Heading up the stairs, Soneji felt blessed to be there. The school was wall to wall with scions of wealth, of power, of fame. From here, he could—
“Mr. Soneji?”
He pivoted to find the Washington Day headmaster, Charles Pendleton Little, coming up behind him, grinning. “Big day,” the headmaster said, sticking out his hand.
Soneji’s own hands were bandaged, but he took Little’s hand and shook it loosely.
“What happened to you?” Little asked.
Soneji tried to act sheepish. “I went over the front of my mountain bike and cartwheeled a few times down a steep trail the day before yesterday.”
Little’s eyebrows went up. “Ouch.”
“Tell me about it.” He sighed. “Could’ve been worse. I was lucky.”
“Yes, you were,” Little said. “By the way, I wanted to let you know we have a new student joining our seventh-grade class today. Cheryl Lynn Wise. She’s the daughter of the president’s new chief of staff.”
Soneji flashed on the Lindbergh kidnapping.The daughter of the White House chief of staff. Well, that would certainly do it, wouldn’t it? All the fame you could ever want for snatching someone like that, and she’ll be right there in my class.
“I very much look forward to welcoming Cheryl Lynn to Washington Day.”
“Cheryl Lynn will be accompanied initially by our in-house U.S. Secret Service agent. Her name is Jezzie Flanagan.”
Soneji had to force his enthusiasm this time. “Wonderful. I can’t wait to meet Agent Flanagan as well.”
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