Page 13 of Artifice (Pros and Cons Mysteries #4)
O live continued to breathe in and out as Simon led her outside.
As a rush of salty air hit her, gratefulness filled her, especially after experiencing the stifling atmosphere inside.
The courtyard spread before her in faded grandeur—a once-elegant space generations of residents had enjoyed. Weathered flagstones formed a circular pattern around an ancient fountain that no longer functioned, its stone cherub now missing an arm and stained with decades of sea spray.
Four stone benches surrounded the fountain, their surfaces worn smooth by countless occupants seeking respite from the mansion’s oppressive walls.
Beyond the formal stonework, a path wound through neglected gardens where ornamental shrubs had grown wild, their shapes distorted into hunched, arthritic forms by the coastal winds.
The entire space was enclosed by a low stone wall that separated the cultivated grounds from the cliffs beyond, where the constant thunder of waves against rocks provided a haunting soundtrack to the scene.
From this vantage point, Olive could see twisted junipers clinging to the landscape, their trunks nearly horizontal from years of battling Atlantic gales.
Small details told their own stories: cigarette butts hidden beneath the benches, a weathered jacket forgotten on one of the stone seats, and, most telling, scratch marks on the courtyard’s only gate.
The long lines made it seem as if someone had desperately tried to claw their way out—or perhaps, more disturbing still, to escape something evil here at the school.
Her insides felt cold at the thought.
“I’m Simon,” the man started as they sat on one of the stone benches. “Simon Long.”
Olive turned her thoughts from the gate back to Simon. “Liv Bettencourt.”
“I know.”
Surprise washed through her. He hadn’t acted like he knew her yesterday when she’d run into him.
She daintily crossed her legs, reminding herself to remain elegant. “I guess everyone here knows who I am?”
He shrugged. “You’re kind of a big deal.”
“I don’t know about that.” She drew in another breath. “What do you do here?”
“I’m an education consultant.”
Education consultant? Then why did he have blueprints?
Instead of asking about it, she asked instead, “So you’re not from this area?”
“No, I’m not. I’m actually from the DC area. I consult with schools and private institutions across the country and show them ways to improve upon what they’re already doing.”
Olive didn’t know what to think about that. Would an education consultant have blueprints?
She didn’t think so.
She studied his face a minute. “Did you know about the Quiet Room?”
“I only became aware of it yesterday. And, in case you’re wondering, I’ve only been here a week.”
“And what do you think about the Quiet Room?”
He twisted his head and grimaced. “It makes me uncomfortable. I’m hoping to offer my insights while I’m here—which will include eliminating such a space.”
She shook her head in a moment of honesty. “There’s no way I can give money to an institution that utilizes something like that.”
His steady gaze showed agreement. “Then you should tell the board. Maybe they’ll do something about it.”
Olive glanced at him again. The man really was handsome with his curly blond hair and easy smile. He sounded reasonable. And he’d rescued her from that room.
Thank goodness, he’d heard her desperate cries for help.
Had her first impression of the man been wrong? Were her assumptions off base?
“I think I will tell the board,” Olive finally said. “Someone has to speak up.”
“I agree.”
Olive sucked in another slow breath before nodding. “I think I’m okay now. Thank you for coming out here with me.”
“Of course.” He shifted but made no effort to leave.
She studied his face another moment, genuinely curious about the man. “How long will you be around?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“Then I’ll probably see you again.”
A quick grin flashed across his face. “You probably will. Hopefully not in a restaurant where we literally run into each other.”
That warranted a smile from Olive.
“Hopefully not.” She nodded at the door and sighed. “I suppose Director Ingraham is waiting for me.”
“Most likely.”
With another nod, Olive stood and took a step away. “I’ll be seeing you around, Simon.”
“I look forward to it.” The gentle rumble of his voice didn’t make him seem like a threat.
But what if this was all a setup? What if her being locked in that room and rescued by Simon had happened to make her want to trust Simon?
Either way, Olive needed to keep up her guard.
Right now, Tevin was the only one in town she could truly trust.
Just as she thought, Margaret was waiting near the door when Olive stepped back inside.
“Are you okay?” Barely discernable concern filled her voice.
“I’ve been better.” It seemed reasonable that Liv Bettencourt would say something like that. Just because the woman was rich didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of being shaken.
“You have to understand that we have reasons for that room.”
They began strolling together down the hallway, their steps slow.
“I don’t see any reason why someone should be locked in there—in the dark. Not even a criminal deserves that.” Any reasonable person could see that, right?
“We have to use various methods to control student behavior around here. I know it’s jarring to think about, but without consequences, the students would be a danger to both themselves and to others.”
“Do you have anyone overseeing these disciplinary actions? A psychologist or doctor? Because I’m afraid you’re doing more harm than good with that room.”
Her cheek twitched as if she didn’t like the insinuations. “We do have both of those positions here—not full time, of course.”
“Are there any other secret rooms you need to tell me about?”
Margaret let out a tart laugh. “No, of course not.”
Olive wished she felt that confident.
She pulled in another deep breath as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I’d still like to talk to some students.”
“Of course.” Margaret kept her steps steady as they walked.
“And I need to charge my phone.” Olive still found it strange how quickly her battery drained in the Quiet Room. Was there a device that could make that happen? She needed to ask Tevin.
“I can arrange that.”
She drew in a shaky breath.
If Olive wanted to figure out what had happened to Colin, she needed to pull herself together.