Page 30 of Vanish From Sight

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.