A workplace rivalry. An isolated campus. A tragic death: Head Case a Psychological Thriller by Bonnie Traymore ➱ Book Release with Giveaway
A workplace rivalry. An isolated campus. A tragic death.
Head Case
by Bonnie Traymore
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Readers'
Favorite, 5 stars
A
workplace rivalry. An isolated campus. A tragic death.
Never
make a major life decision in the wake of emotional turmoil. Cassie
Romano learned this the hard way, leaving sunny San Diego for a
teaching position at a private school in the Catskill Mountains in
upstate New York after a painful break-up left her heart-broken and
in need of a change.
It all seemed so perfect in June when she
came to interview. But now it’s December, and she’s stranded on
top of a mountain surrounded by snow, ice, and acres of wilderness,
lonelier than ever and bored out of her mind.
When a fellow
teacher turns up dead and Cassie receives a cryptic letter from her a
few days later, it’s clear to Cassie that something strange is
going on at Falcon Ridge Academy. Everyone seems to be writing the
death off as a tragic accident, but she’s not so sure.
Cassie
has secrets of her own, though, so she’s initially reluctant to get
involved. Torn between the urge to protect herself and the desire to
investigate further, she decides on the latter.
And
the consequences could be deadly.
PROLOGUE
Kimi
Kimi
knows what the other teachers call her behind her back. She’s heard them
before, although she’s pretty sure they don’t know she knows.
Here
comes the mole.
It’s
not like she signed some formal agreement. And it’s not like she had much of a choice.
It had all started pretty innocently. Her boss befriending her and then subtly
starting to pump her for information.
Then
it became an unstated directive. A quick promotion to English department chair
in exchange for some hints about who might be plotting behind the woman’s back.
Getting her preferred chaperoning duties in exchange for a few tidbits about
who might be holding up her latest initiatives.
And
then it became even more complicated.
She
wonders how Brooke will take the resignation letter she left in her mailbox
yesterday afternoon. It’s a terrible career move to leave now, just two weeks
before winter break. But Kimi feels that she doesn’t have much choice.
It’s
not just the strained relationship with the other teachers, although that’s
part of it. It’s that she’s pretty sure her boss doesn’t know what she
overheard, and it needs to stay that way. She’ll go back to North Carolina and
regroup, then come back for the rest of her belongings some other time.
As she enters the deserted Cortlandt
train station and starts walking towards the tracks, she feels a chill run up
her spine. It’s dead still on a frigid Saturday morning. No commuters. Not
another passenger in sight. But she has a nagging sensation that she’s not
alone.
Is
someone following me?
She stops for a moment and
turns to look behind her. Nobody’s there. She glances out the window to the
parking lot, but the view is obstructed by a thin layer of ice. Then she takes
a deep breath, steadies herself, and makes her way over to the staircase that
leads down to the train tracks.
The hairs on the back of
her neck are standing up, but she reminds herself there’s a good chance she’s
overreacting—to all of it. And for a moment, she considers that she might be
making the biggest mistake of her entire career.
Too
late to second-guess myself now.
When
she lifts her foot to start down the stairs, she freezes, reacting a split
second too late to the sensation of a presence behind her. In an instant, she’s
flying headfirst in the air looking down at the cold, menacing metal stairs.
She
closes her eyes and braces herself, incapable of emitting the terrifying scream
that’s welling up inside her.
ONE
Cassie
I
accepted this position last summer, in the wake of a gut-wrenching breakup.
You’d think after he broke my heart, he would at least have been gentlemanly
enough to offer to move out of our apartment and let me stay put.
But
that’s not how it happened. He reminded me that it was his apartment first,
which is true. Then he offered me a small sum of money. And then he gave me a
deadline to find a new place. It was all very businesslike.
“There’s someone else?” I
asked.
“Does
it really matter?” he replied. “What’s the point in doing this to yourself,
Cassie?”
He tried to deny it at
first, to spare me the sordid details. But I eventually got most of the story
out of him. We’d been living together for over a year. Dating for over two. I
thought we were “going somewhere.” Our sex life had never been electrifying,
but it was satisfying and comfortable, and that was enough for me.
When things cooled off a
bit, about six months before he dropped the bomb on me, I figured that was just
how it was in a long-term relationship. I’d never lived with anyone before, so
I had no frame of reference.
Then our silly little
arguments stopped. He began to act polite—the way you interact with a relative
stranger—like he didn’t care enough to fight back. I felt something was up.
Something had changed, but I didn’t dare bring it up. I held my breath and
waited to see if things would go back to normal.
I guess on some level a
woman can sense when she’s losing a guy, I just wasn’t ready to face it.
Because for me, getting involved with someone is a lot more complicated than it
is for the average person. In hindsight, I suppose I can see that the
relationship was never all that great. He probably did me a favor by ending it.
But it was all I had at the
time, and I wasn’t ready to let go. So when he told me that, yes, there was
someone else, I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I have my pride,
most of the time, but it seemed to be eluding me that day.
I’d like to say I held my
head high and stormed out when he fessed up, but that’s not what happened.
“You
better be sure about this,” I offered. “I don’t give second chances.”
“I’m
in love with another woman. I’m sorry. It’s over.”
Then he turned from me and
walked out the door.
So when I went to a
conference in New York City the following week and learned about a teaching
position at a boarding school thousands of miles from my California home that
offered faculty housing, it seemed like it was meant to be. I could pocket my
payoff from Evan, regroup, start over, and live happily ever after, following a
proper but brief mourning period. I had just turned thirty so I didn’t plan to
pine away for too long.
Obviously,
I wasn’t thinking straight. I’ve stranded myself on top of a mountain in rural
upstate New York, surrounded by acres of woods. A two-hour trek to New York
City on a good day.
What
was I thinking? Who am I going to meet here?
One
thing I’ve learned from this experience is never make a major life decision in
the midst of emotional turmoil.
I
moved here from San Diego, totally unprepared for the insane winter weather
we’ve been having here. Falcon Ridge Academy sits near the top of a medium-high
peak of the Catskill Mountains on a plateau overlooking the Hudson River far in
the distance.
It
all looked so beautiful when I came to interview back in June. The day was
clear and breezy, the setting a bucolic wonderland. I imagined long walks in
the woods surrounded by vibrant fall colors where I would clear my head and
heal my heart. A respite from the rat race. I’d write. I’d think. I’d grow
stronger.
Now
it’s December, and the campus feels more like a minimum-security prison:
isolated, creepy, and desolate. The walls of my four-hundred-square-foot
apartment feel like they’re closing in on me as the bare branches of the tree
outside my bedroom window scrape at it with each gust of wind. Long, craggy
fingers trying to claw their way inside.
From
a distance, the structure I’m housed in seems to teeter on its foundation,
threatening to tumble down the steep mountainside with every gust of wind. It’s
perilously close to the drop-off behind it. I was surprised that there’s no
real barrier there, aside from a row of stubby, round sage green shrubs that
dot the perimeter of the grounds behind my building.
Winter arrived early, with
a vengeance. And although the weather warmed up a bit today, there’s still snow
piled up outside from a “squall” last week. At least I’m learning some new
vocabulary words. That’s a blinding snowstorm that comes out of nowhere and
makes it impossible to drive, see, or basically do anything, including walk
from my apartment to the dining commons. I have no sense of direction. I’m sure
I’ll get lost and freeze to death or fall down the mountain before this winter
is over. And it’s just getting started.
Could
this possibly get any worse?
But as I stare down at the
alert on my phone, I realize I shouldn’t have asked that question. They’ve
called an emergency meeting of all faculty and staff that starts in twenty
minutes. On a Sunday. And it’s supposed to be my weekend off.
I thought we outlawed
indentured servitude, but apparently not. For nine months of the year, they own
me, and they know it. I forgo the primping—there’s nobody to impress
anyway—throw on some clothes, grab my jacket, and head out the door.
***
Kimi
Choy is dead.
I
heard our head of school say it, but it’s not registering. I feel detached,
like I’m watching a movie. I’m not sure if that’s because I’m in shock or
because I’m simply a terrible person. I was pretty close to her, at least until
recently. Shouldn’t I be feeling something?
Other
people are reacting. I see a few eyes tearing up, but I can’t seem to get my
brain around it. The fact that this happened out of the blue. The fact that she
was totally fine when I saw her Friday afternoon—and now she’s gone. The fact
that she died from a fall down the stairs at the Cortlandt train station.
Why
did she go there, one of the most deserted stations around, and one that’s at
least twenty miles south of us? There are busier ones closer to our school she
could have used.
And then I realize I’m
probably in shock. I think back to when I arrived last August. Kimi was my
department chair, and she went out of her way to make me feel welcome.
I’d never worked at a boarding school before,
but she was a veteran. She was really friendly and offered some tips about
where to get my hair cut and how to stay sane. She warned me that I would need
to get some distance from the place on my weekends off. And she was really
supportive when I told her about my break up and what a hard time I was having.
Bonnie Traymore is an author, educator, and consultant. A world traveler, she loves to include vivid settings in her novels. She is also an accomplished non-fiction writer, historian, and educator with a doctorate in United States History. She has taught at top independent schools in Honolulu, Silicon Valley, and New York City for over 20 years, and she has taught history courses at Columbia University and the University of Hawaii. Originally from the New York City area, she resides in Honolulu with her husband but frequents the Hudson Valley and New York City areas.
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I like the excerpt. Sounds like a really good thriller.
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