Page 12 of Vanish From Sight (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #2)

A lead was worth its weight in gold, even if it came to nothing.

Noah’s Bronco rumbled down a long, winding driveway flanked on either side by towering trees that dappled the sunlight through a vast array of golden leaves.

The dense forest surrounding the historic, elite boarding school — High Peaks Academy — framed the campus and cast a serene yet imposing presence.

Callie was riding shotgun.

As they emerged from the wooded canopy, Noah was greeted by the sight of a vast expanse of meticulously manicured grounds.

Rolling lawns stretched out in all directions, dotted with elegant, century-old buildings, each one crafted from red brick and grey stone.

The majestic structures, with their ornate carvings and soaring towers, exuded a timeless refinement.

The academy’s main building dominated the central quad, an imposing edifice with multiple wings and grand archways leading to highly polished stone hallways.

Its entrance sported tall columns, each one intricately designed.

It felt more like a grand European estate than an American school in the middle of the Adirondacks.

Noah drove past multiple dorms, athletic fields and a full-size outdoor swimming pool, the edges softened by carefully tended gardens and lush vegetation.

He observed students walking between classes, most in preppy uniforms, a few in casual clothes.

Some rode bicycles, others dashed to classes with books in hand.

All revealed a sense of shared purpose and drive that came from routine and structure.

As he continued following the winding driveway, the distant sound of bells ringing from the school’s chapel echoed across the campus. It was clear from one glance that this was a place steeped in tradition, where history and modernity blended together.

Gravel crunched below the tires as he left asphalt and arrived at the front entrance.

He pushed out of the vehicle, soaking in the picture-perfect campus as he downed the remainder of his morning coffee.

There was something about the place, something intangible that spoke of the academy’s rich heritage — a sense of community that bound the faculty, students and alumni together throughout time.

“You know McKenzie is going to be pissed,” Callie remarked.

“I already called him. He said he had a backlog of cases to wade through. Besides, I cleared it with Rivera.”

“I thought Ray was assisting?”

“You could say he’s a little distracted.”

“So why me? There are other deputies who have been with the office longer.”

Noah stopped outside, gazing up at the hall.

“You amuse me. ”

With that he stepped inside.

He couldn’t help but feel a sense of natural curiosity and anticipation for what he would learn about the victim. Their footsteps echoed against the stone floors as they meandered down a long hallway following instructions on where to find the rector’s office.

“Seriously, Noah, why me?”

“Maybe for the same reason Luke worked with you.”

Her eyebrows shot up and the corner of her mouth curled.

“So. Were you ever sent here?” she asked.

“I didn’t even know it existed.”

The door to the office was already open when they arrived.

Conversation flowed out. Alexander Hawthorne’s nameplate was on the door, a symbol of his authority and status within the institution.

It was made of gleaming gold metal, polished to a mirror-like finish.

The engraved name was elegant, with each letter standing out in a sharp black.

It read RECTOR HAWTHORNE in bold capital letters, giving off an air of importance and distinction.

Inside, a tall, imposing man in his late fifties, with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, was holding a stack of folders and inserting them into a filing cabinet.

“Tomlin, Whelan, any further issues, and I will have you expelled, do you understand?” he said to two boys who were standing to attention.

“Yes sir.”

Noah rapped the door with his knuckles.

The man turned and they got a better look at him. He was clean-shaven and carried a look of authority. He was dressed impeccably in a brown suit, complete with a white shirt and a navy tie that accentuated his stern appearance.

“Deputy. Everything okay?”

“You mind if we—” Noah said .

“Please, take a seat,” he said, directing them to two chairs in front of a large oak desk, then dismissing the two teens. Their heads hung low as they strode passed him. Noah gave them a glance, thinking back to his own education. He would have hated to be stuck in a boarding school.

The room was spacious and well-lit with bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling.

Noah extended a hand before taking a seat.

Callie remained standing. Hawthorne sank into a comfortable-looking leather chair.

His gaze darted between them, his expression remaining stoic.

“What brings you here?” he asked in a deep, commanding voice.

Noah cleared his throat and began to explain the situation about the dog, while Callie took out a notepad to take notes. Hawthorne listened attentively, his expression betraying no emotion. When Noah was finished, Hawthorne leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together.

“I see,” he said in a measured tone. “Sonny was originally mine but with work and a change in my personal situation, I was planning on giving him up. A faculty member here offered to take him. I assumed she would have updated his registration.”

“The colleague’s name?”

“Katherine Evans. She worked here as a residential counselor up until six months ago. She stepped down from her position. Is everything okay?”

Noah stared back at him and the rector’s expression changed.

“The woman pulled from the lake. That’s her, isn’t it?” Hawthorne asked.

“We don’t know that yet. Would you have a photograph of Katherine?”

“Yes. Um. Give me a moment.” He got up, looking a little washed out in the face.

He crossed the room and dug inside one of the filing cabinets.

“This is… just… dreadful…” He trailed off, clearl y taken aback by the news.

A moment later, he pulled out a folder, opened it and handed Noah a school photo.

Although the body they pulled out was bloated, the resemblance was clearly there.

“Was that her?” Hawthorne asked.

“Would you happen to have her home address, and a name and number for next of kin?”

“We should.” He shook his head, his demeanor shifting to one of worry. “I can’t believe this. I was only talking with her a few weeks ago.”

“In regards to?”

“Private matters pertaining to the academy.” He sighed. “Nicholas will be devastated.”

“Her husband?” Noah asked.

He nodded, returning with an address for a home in Keene Valley. Noah tucked the address into his pocket. “How well do you know her husband?”

“Uh. I’ve met him a few times. Always came across as kind and personable. He’s a manager at a bank in town.”

“You mentioned Katherine stepped down from her position. Any reason why?”

“Personal choice. You’d have to speak with her but…” He took a deep breath.

Noah looked around. “Did you find a replacement?”

“We did.”

Noah eyed some of the pictures of alumni and staff on the walls. “How many faculty members are there?”

“Thirteen and roughly a hundred students.”

“Hm. A small group. You know, I grew up in these parts,” Noah said, rising from his seat and perusing the room. He glanced at Callie. “I don’t ever recall hearing about this place.”

“It’s not your typical private school. We cater to a very specific kind of individual. ”

“And that would be?”

“Our students range from twelve to twenty-one years of age. It’s coeducational. We mostly focus on those with emotional and learning difficulties that have impacted their ability to perform at home or in public schools.”

“Emotional?”

“Students who struggle. There are any number of reasons but mostly it comes down to learning and social needs. We try to take a holistic approach to education, including outdoor-based programs and spirituality to address things such as social trouble, special education, anxiety, lack of motivation, trauma, depression, difficulty conversing with family or peers, ADD and ADHD. We’re state approved, of course, and keep our numbers low to ensure we can work closely with individuals.

Everyone who is accepted here is usually referred by social services, probation departments or special education agencies.

” He glanced off to see Callie taking notes, his brow furrowing.

“Our staff is comprised of educators, counselors and clinicians who are more than capable of helping these young individuals develop positive, healthy coping strategies as well as improve their behavior and academic results.”

“So, Katherine counseled students?”

“Among many things. We work closely with the students and the family as we have found that usually gives us the best success.”

“But you cover regular classes?”

“Of course. Writing, math, reading but we also combine that with hiking, skiing, climbing, rope courses, multi-day expeditions. We have wilderness staff that assist with the outdoors. It’s been very effective.”

“Do you recall any problems… people that Katherine said she was having difficulties with or felt threatened by in the days leading up to her stepping down? ”

“None that stand out.”

Noah nodded. “Did you have any problems with her as a counselor?”

“None. Trust me when I say that Katherine was by far the best we’ve had here.”

“Well, thank you for your help. If we have any further questions, we’ll be in touch,” Noah said, rising and shaking his hand again. The firm grip Hawthorne had when they arrived had weakened. He could sense worry.

Leaving the campus that morning, Noah couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind leaving the job and if there was more to the rector’s story.

As they got into the Bronco, Callie asked, “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”