Page 54 of Outcast

“I’m going back to Elder House.”

“See you later.” He gave me an absent smile and strolled away.

I stared at his retreating back. Even though Blake had said I shouldn’t call the police, the reasons he gave me indicated that I should. Henry was in danger, and I wouldn’t let him spend another day in captivity with those hippie assholes. I pulled out my smartphone and googled the number of the local police.

The sooner they arrested the kidnappers, the sooner Henry would be able to get on with his life and forget that the ordeal had ever happened.

Chapter 19

Early on the Monday morning after I had called the police, Mr. Carbuncle knocked on my door, saying the headmaster wanted to see me urgently. I dressed as quickly as I could, threw on a coat, and hurried across the frost-covered campus with the janitor at my heels. My pulse pounded in my ears, drowning out the sounds of frozen twigs breaking underfoot. Had Mom and Rudolph finally arrived in England to complain about the school’s negligence? The headmaster hadn’t even visited Elder House to ask if Henry and I had recovered from our ordeal. I expected Mom would be livid when she heard about this.

We rushed into the main teaching block, up the stairs, and down the hallway. Mr. Chaloner’s door was ajar, so I knocked and stepped inside. Instead of Mom and Rudolph, two men I’d never seen before sat in the seats opposite the desk, leaving me nowhere to sit. They didn’t seem the academic types, so I focused my attention on the headmaster.

Mr. Chaloner stood. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Miss Hobson. May I introduce you to Chief Inspector Faust and Sergeant Sullivan, both Mercia Academy alumni.”

Neither of the men stood, but the older one, who wore a black undertaker’s suit that contrasted with his startling white hair and pencil mustache, gave me a nod of acknowledgment.

I sucked in a sharp breath. “Is this about the kidnapping? Did you catch the culprits?”

The headmaster crossed the room and pulled up a stool. “Do take a seat, Miss Hobson.”

“Thanks,” I kept my voice flat. I still hadn’t forgiven him for trying to confiscate my phone.

When I settled onto the stool, Chief Inspector Faust spoke. “Let me get straight to the point, Miss Hobson. We used the information you gave us to track down the people you said abducted you and Mr. Bourneville.”

I bristled at the tone of his voice. It implied that he doubted we’d been kidnapped at all. “Did you arrest them? I told you they’d threatened Henry and will strike again if he doesn’t give in to their demands.”

“We found a house full of squatters who confirm that you and Mr. Bourneville stayed with them, but as guests.” He remained silent and folded his arms across his chest.

I stared into his gray eyes, wondering what he wanted me to say. That the kidnappers were liars? Anyone with an ounce of sense would know that criminals would say anything to get out of trouble. The silence continued like one of those whistling kettles where the pressure built and built until the sound became deafening. My heart thrummed with a painful mix of anticipation and dread, pulling every nerve in my body taut.

My head pounded in memory of what I had suffered at those people’s hands. “What did they say happened, then? Why would any sane person leave a school trip to stay in that filthy, attic room?”

“They claim that you arranged to abduct Henry Bourneville in revenge for an altercation you had during a camping trip.”

I shook my head. “They’re lying. I’ve never argued with Henry, and even if I did, I wouldn’t retaliate with a kidnapping.

Inspector Faust pursed his lips. “That might be the case, but the five-hundred thousand pounds they helped you to extort from Mr. Bourneville the elder gives you a strong motivation for arranging your classmate’s abduction.”

My breath caught. “But I didn’t—”

“We found nearly ten thousand pounds in cash at the squat,” said the sergeant, a red-haired man with thick brows that matched his trimmed beard. “What did you do with the rest?”

“Me?” I gasped out. “How could I arrange something as complicated as a kidnapping when I haven’t spent more than half a day away from the academy since I came to England?”

“You tell me,” he replied.

I spluttered. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t even know we’d be going to the Peak District until Mr. Jenkins announced the trip!”

Sergeant Sullivan folded his arms across his chest. “Why would the kidnappers identify you as their accomplice?”

“Revenge,” I said.

His brow rose. “I beg your pardon?”

“They were pissed because they tried to get a ransom out of my stepfather, but he kept negotiating them down.”

The look the inspector gave me was part boredom and part disgust. “All the evidence is stacked against you. The staff we interviewed told us of a campaign of bullying and harassment conducted against you by Mr. Bourneville and his friends. Your motivation for his abduction is financial gain and revenge.”