The Murder Pit by Jeff Shelby

expression on his face that he was trying to convince Matt to take something else. Knowing him, probably the class I had signed up to teach.
    Part of me wanted to march up to the kids and thrust their coats back into their hands and herd them out of the building. I didn’t want them surrounded by narrow-minded, righteous people who had no problem bestowing judgment based on such skimpy ‘facts.’
    But there was another part of me that felt guilty, that didn’t want to take the co-op experience away from them. They genuinely enjoyed their time with their friends, learning in a relaxed classroom environment, a motley group of mixed ages coming together to learn and to share. And I loved that they got a chance to explore new topics, things that we may have never thought about learning at home.
    I sighed. I didn’t know if architecture with Legos would balance out being in the middle of a group of people who thought I was capable of murder.
    I turned back to Carol. “So, should I just cancel the class, then?’
    “You don’t have to do that,” she said quickly.
    “No one has signed up.”
    She didn’t say anything, just went back to tapping her pen against the table.
    “I’ll go pull the sheet,” I told her. “But I’m not paying for my kids. I offered the class, which should cover their enrollment. Not my fault you’re all afraid of me.”
    “Oh, of course,” Carol said, relief flooding her face. I knew she was thrilled that I wasn’t going to push the issue any further. “And, don’t worry. We’ll get it figured out.”
    As I walked to rip my sheet off the table, I wondered if she was agreeing to that because it was the right thing to do or if she was lying.
    Because I was pretty sure it was more than just the other people in the room who thought I’d offed Olaf.
    I was pretty sure Carol Vinford believed it, too.

SEVENTEEN
     
     
    Emily was coming in the door from school at the same time we arrived home and she looked as unhappy as I felt.
    “Where were you guys?” she snarled as she dropped her backpack on the dining table.
    “Co-op,” I said.
    “Mom can’t teach,” Will said, brushing past us on his way to the stairs.
    “Yeah, they think she did it,” Sophie said. She’d grabbed a cheese stick from the fridge and was in the process of pulling down the wrapper.
    “But she didn’t,” Gracie announced. She looked at me. “Right, Mommy? You didn’t?”
    “No, I did not,” I said.
    The two girls exchanged looks and Sophie shoved half the cheese stick in her mouth. Grace grabbed the other half out of her hand, popped it in her own mouth and they both scurried upstairs.
    “What are they talking about?” Emily asked, slouching into one of the chairs at the table.
    She’d done her hair in a French braid that morning and, with her hair pulled back from her face, she looked stunning. Of course, I’d never tell her that. A flattering remark from me was a surefire way to ensure she’d never repeat what had initiated the compliment.
    “My class was cancelled,” I told her. “No one signed up.”
    She squinted at me. “What? Your classes are the only ones people look forward to.”
    “That was before dead bodies started turning up in our basement.”
    Emily folded her arms across her chest, chewing on her lip. Her brow furrowed and I could tell she was angry. I just wasn’t sure if it was because of what had happened at co-op or if there was some other reason.
    I sat down across from her. “How was your day?”
    “Terrible,” she said. “Pretty amazingly terrible.”
    A knot formed in my stomach. “Why?”
    “Remember how I asked about going to the game on Friday?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well, you don’t need to worry about it now,” she said. She wouldn’t look at me.
    “Why not?”
    She cleared her throat. “Just because.”
    “Emily. Why not?”
    Small tears emerged in the corners of her eyes. “Nathan…he said he’s not going to go now.” She paused and winced. “But I