Page 123 of For Your Own Good

“I appreciate that.”

“I also wanted to speak with you about something else,” Frank says.

“Oh, don’t worry about your retirement account,” Teddy says with a wave of his hand. “Belmont only has 401(k)s now, so you can roll it over into an IRA or whatever you like.”

“It’s not that. I wanted to ask about the memorial.” Frank leans in a little toward Teddy. It’s the first time he’s moved anything but his mouth. “If you’re going to have clergy at the event, I hope you will consider me. Although I won’t be employed by Belmont, I still care deeply about its future.”

Teddy is tired of this conversation, and of Frank. He needs to get back to his email. “Of course we want you there. Frank, no matter where you go, you’ll always be part of the Belmont family.” He stands up, indicatingthat their little chat is over. “I’m sorry. I’ve been rude, haven’t I? I should’ve offered you something to drink. My wife isn’t home, and I’m afraid she’s a much better host than I am.”

“How is Allison? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s great, just great. Busy as always, but she’s great.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Frank stands up. “I should be going. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He pauses. “Unless you’d like me to stay and pray with you.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Teddy walks him to the door and then out to his car, asking about his wife and child.

“Missy and Frankie are at her mother’s house right now,” Frank says. “It’s for the best, considering my life transition.”

So she left him. Not surprising. “Probably a good temporary move.”

“Thank you again,” Frank says, unlocking his car with a click. “I really want to stay involved with Belmont.”

“Of course.”

Teddy waits for Frank to get into the car, forcing himself to be polite, and he waves as Frank drives away.

Calm. Cool. Collected.

Until he gets back into the house, his mind on that email, and he picks up a glass bowl. A wedding present, one of Allison’s favorites. Teddy slams it against the floor with so much force, a piece of glass flies up and lodges itself in his arm.

He spends the rest of the evening cleaning it up.

I know you’re helping him.

Zach stares at the email. His first thought is that it’s a joke from Lucas. But Lucas wouldn’t send an email; he’d send a text. And he sure as hell wouldn’t use an email address like LittleBirdie.

Next thought: Fallon Knight.

She’s the one who has been following him, the one who’s been going to Crutcher’s house every day. And she thinks he’s... what? Helping the Mad Scientist? Because Zach was outside Crutcher’s house once?

Insane.

But she also may be right. Just not about him. About Crutcher. Fallon isn’t the only one who thinks he may have killed those people. Zach still thinks the same thing, especially after Crutcher was named headmaster. And after learning about the milk.

He sits back in his chair, staring at the words, trying to figure out why she would even send an email like this. What’s the point? If she really thinks he’s helping someone kill people, why not go to the police? What’s she going to do—try to blackmail him?

Part of him wants to go talk to her and see what this is all about.

The other part of him keeps coming back to the same thought:She’s crazy.

76

FRANK.FRANK MAXWELL.

Fallon shakes her head, not understanding. In all the months she has been watching Teddy, he’s never had a visitor. Not once. And on the night she sent that email, Frank shows up at his house.