Page 30 of Artifice (Pros and Cons Mysteries #4)

D irector Ingraham’s expression tightened as she gripped Olive’s other arm, pulling her away from Simon. “I’ll handle our guest, Mr. Long. Please, go to your assigned room.”

Simon hesitated. His eyes locked with Olive’s a beat too long before he nodded and moved away. He disappeared into the stream of staff members now entering the cafeteria.

As Margaret led Olive through the corridor, she caught a final glimpse of Peter.

Dr. Wells injected something into the boy’s arm while the security staff held him down.

Peter’s eyes rolled back, his screams fading to whimpers.

Olive’s throat went dry as she watched.

“Poor boy.” Margaret sighed, noticing Olive’s gaze. “Peter has these episodes occasionally. Trauma-induced psychosis. Usually, we can manage it with his regular medication.”

Metal shutters began descending over the windows as they passed, sealing off the outside world. Heavy fire doors closed automatically between sections of the building, each requiring Margaret to swipe her keycard for access.

Those security measures . . . they had to be left over from the mental institution, right?

“Isn’t this response a bit . . . extreme for one student’s medical issue?” Olive asked carefully.

“Safety protocols.” Margaret didn’t miss a beat with her response. “We’ve had incidents in the past where disturbed students tried to harm themselves or others during these episodes. The lockdown prevents anyone from accessing unauthorized areas or leaving campus while in an unstable state.”

They reached the administrative wing, passing the office where Olive had conducted her student interviews. Through the partially open door, she glimpsed Mr. Thorne doing something inside.

She couldn’t see what it was, but the man’s motions almost appeared frantic.

“Shouldn’t we be heading to your office?” Olive asked as Margaret guided her past the room and toward a smaller conference room at the end of the hall.

“The safety protocol designates this room for visitors.” Margaret swiped her card again.

The door clicked open to reveal a windowless space with a small table and four chairs. A pitcher of water and glasses had been set out, as if in anticipation.

“Then where did Simon go?”

“We have two rooms,” she answered.

“And we can’t be in the same room?”

Margaret’s face remained expressionless. She ignored her question, and instead said, “Please, make yourself comfortable. This could take some time to resolve.”

“How much time?” Olive feigned concern. “But I have appointments this afternoon?—”

“I’m afraid those may need to be rescheduled,” Margaret cut in. “No one can leave until Dr. Wells clears the facility. For everyone’s safety.”

The words sounded rehearsed, hollow.

“Of course,” Olive murmured. “I understand.”

“There’s a bathroom through that door.” Margaret pointed. “If you need anything, use this.” She placed a small handheld radio on the table. “Channel three will reach the front desk. Someone will check on you periodically.”

With that, she exited.

Olive waited ten seconds before testing the door.

It was locked, as expected.

With a sigh, she turned and surveyed the room more carefully. No windows. A ventilation duct too small for escape. A surveillance camera in the upper corner—its red light steady, watching.

Moving to the bathroom, Olive closed the door and ran the water, creating background noise as she pulled out her phone.

No signal, not even emergency services. Signal jammers, most likely—another “safety feature” of the lockdown.

She frowned, biting back her disappointment. Administrators had thought of everything, hadn’t they?

Olive returned to the main room, taking a seat where she could watch the door while appearing relaxed. Her mind raced through the implications of what she’d just witnessed.

Peter’s “episode” had seemed genuine enough on the surface. But the timing could be suspect. After all, only ten minutes before that she’d been trying to find out information about Colin.

And now, conveniently, Olive was isolated in a room while staff members did who knows what with that kid.

Also curious was Simon’s reaction—his immediate protective stance, his whispered warning about the lockdown.

He’d been prepared, expecting something like this.

Olive’s curiosity about the man continued to grow.

The radio crackled to life, making her jump.

“Ms. Bettencourt?” A woman’s voice she didn’t recognize filled the room. “This is security. Just checking that you’re comfortable.”

She picked up the radio and pressed the talk button. “I’m fine.”

“Dr. Wells estimates the lockdown will continue for approximately two hours. Can we bring you anything?”

Two hours? This woman had to be joking.

But Olive knew she wasn’t.

“I’m okay, thank you. Just curious—is this type of incident common here?”

A pause stretched, longer than necessary.

“Not common, no,” the woman finally said. “But we’re well-prepared for all contingencies. Please, try to relax. Someone will come for you when it’s safe.”

The radio fell silent.

Two hours. What was staff doing in those two hours? Coaching students? Covering up what had happened with Peter?

Or maybe they were talking to everyone Olive had spoken with, finding out what she’d asked them about.

Her blood went cold at that thought.

What if Abe shared something she’d said? Would he do that?

Or what if this had happened because Olive mentioned Peyton?

Because if someone here became suspicious about her true intentions, they might try to trap her.

She had no idea.

Olive glanced at the camera again. She then pulled a compact mirror from her purse, pretending to check her makeup while scanning the room more thoroughly for any surveillance devices beyond the obvious camera.

As she tilted the mirror, she froze.

Something had been slipped under the door.

A white paper.

She placed her purse on the arm of her chair then shifted in the chair.

Her purse tumbled to the floor—just as she wanted. The contents spilled everywhere.

She quickly dropped to her knees and began gathering the contents. As she did so, she grabbed the paper and placed it in her purse.

Back in her chair, she acted as if she were reorganizing her purse’s contents. Instead, she opened the note.

A message had been written there.

THEY JUST WANTED TO TUCK YOU AWAY SOMEWHERE SO THEY COULD CLEAN UP THEIR MESS.

Olive casually closed her purse, her heart rate accelerating.

Who had left this for her? And were the words true?

Olive had given up on pacing.

But she was going crazy being locked in here.

At least it wasn’t like the Quiet Room. At least here she had a comfortable chair, the place smelled good, and there was a light on.

But not having access to her phone left her feeling unnerved.

Was this really the school’s lockdown procedure? It seemed extreme.

Then again, she remembered what she’d seen. She could understand the students needing to get to their rooms for safety reasons.

But why would the whole school need to be locked down? And why for so long? That made no sense.

Not turning her head, she glanced at the steady red light in the corner.

The camera that watched her every move.

That made it even harder to do anything she might want to do.

She couldn’t set herself up to look suspicious.

No, she needed more answers first.

But just sitting here wouldn’t get her any of those answers.

What if there was more to this than met the eye? What if something had caused that psychotic break in Peter?

Had all this been done to get Olive out of the way?

If that was the case, it meant she was getting too close to the truth.

What if these people were trying to think of a way to eliminate Olive while still getting her money? Was there even a way they might be able to do that?

She wasn’t sure, but it was something she needed to seriously think about.

Finally, the lock turned.

She held her breath as she anticipated who might be on the other side of that doorway.

Director Ingraham? Simon?

Instead, Principal Denarau came into view.

Seeing him didn’t make Olive feel any better.

If anything, seeing him made her entire body tense.

Her right hand instinctively moved toward her hip but stopped short.

Olive had left her weapon at the B&B, knowing the school had metal detectors. She’d chosen to appear compliant rather than armed.

Now she was second-guessing that decision.