Cutler 03 - Twilight's Child

When I turned, my hand on my cheek, I saw Jimmy smiling widely.
    "She's like a flower that was kept imprisoned in a dark, dank basement and finally set free in the sun," he said. "Now she's blossoming. She's quite a little girl."
    "I guess she is," I said, still amazed.
    That afternoon, however, some of my optimism waned when the school principal, Mr. Youngman, phoned.
    "I know you're very busy, Mrs. Longchamp," he began, "so I thought I would simply phone you rather than ask you to come down. Do you have a moment?"
    "Yes, Mr. Youngman. What is it?" I asked, my heart beginning to flutter with anticipation.
    "We received Fern's—I should say, Kelly Ann's—school records today from the Marion Lewis School. I'm afraid her past performance leaves much to be desired. Were you aware of how poorly she was doing in her academic subjects?"
    "We did understand she was unhappy there," I began.
    "She was failing everything," he said, and then he repeated "everything" for emphasis. "But not only that. Her old teachers are on record complaining about her behavior."
    "I think a lot of that might have had to do with her unfortunate home life, Mr. Youngman," I said. "Perhaps my husband and I should stop by to see you. There are some special circumstances."
    "Well, yes, I suppose, considering all this, that might be helpful," he said. "I'm sorry to pull you away."
    "No, I'm sure Jimmy would want us to come. What time later today would be convenient for you?" I asked, and I made an appointment with him for Jimmy and myself.
    When I told Jimmy, he was in complete agreement.
    "We'll have to tell him all of it," he said. "Anyway, her teachers should be aware. It will help them be more understanding and tolerant."
    Later, when we had our meeting with Mr. Youngman and he had heard all of it, he shook his head glumly and said he was very happy we had confided in him.
    "It would explain most of this," he agreed. "I'm sure her rebellious behavior in school was her way of reaching out for help. Why, just her decision to give up the name Kelly Ann and take back her real name is testimony to how much she wants to forget. Poor little thing. Rest assured, I will handle this discreetly for you, Mr. and Mrs. Longchamp. We will do our very best to turn things around."
    "Please don't hesitate to phone us should there be any problems," I told him.
    "See?" Jimmy said after we left. "That's an intelligent, compassionate and understanding man. It's the way we have to be."
    I nodded, but I couldn't help worrying that the problems might be a great deal bigger than Jimmy anticipated. And then, as if I were a gypsy and saw the future, something happened to fan the flames of my anxiety and concern.
    Two days later Mrs. Bradly came to see me. She was very flustered and actually had tears running down her cheeks. I rose immediately from my chair and went to her.
    "What is it, Mrs. Bradly? Something to do with your family?" I asked quickly. She shook her head. I helped her to the leather settee and poured her a glass of water.
    "Thank you," she said, gulping it down. Then she sat back, took a deep breath and revealed the source of her misery. "We're missing nearly three hundred dollars from the petty cash fund," she said. "It's the first time this has ever happened since I've been working here, and you know, Dawn, that's a considerable number of years."
    "Oh, Mrs. Bradly, are you sure it's missing?"
    "Florence Eltz and I have gone over and over it. We have all our receipts to the penny, and there is no doubt the money is gone."
    I sat down beside her. My heart began to pound. Mrs. Bradly was too polite to say the thing I feared her saying. She would wait for me to ask.
    "What do you think might have happened, Mrs. Bradly? Could it have been misplaced, put into another account? A wrong deposit, perhaps?" I asked hopefully.
    "Dawn, Florence and I checked all those possibilities out thoroughly before I decided I had to come see you. We forced poor Mrs. Avery to go over and over the week's deposits. You know that meant funds from the cocktail lounge as well as room deposits, but she didn't complain. She was as eager as we were to find the error.
    "Only," she said, sighing, "there was no error. No, Dawn," she said, shaking her head. "There is no doubt in our minds now—the money was taken. The people who have been working in my department have been working with me for years and years. I'd swear by all of them . . . all except one," she added. Her final words fell