that? Is that why you didn’t feel you could tell me the truth—because I’m such a hidebound old man?”
The idea that Harmon might blame himself for my failure to confide in him breaks my heart. “You’ve never given me the slightest reason not to trust you,” I say, struggling not to cry. “I should have told you in the beginning. I . . . I was too ashamed.”
“That’s not your fault,” he says firmly. “It’s his.” He taps the photograph of Luther. “He preyed on a young vulnerable girl and exploited your trusting nature. It’s the part of you I’ve always loved best—your ability to see the best in people.” He pauses and then says quietly, “Maybe I took advantage of you too. After all, I was your teacher. Maybe I’m no better than Luther Gunn or Woody Hull.”
“Don’t say that!” I cry, moving into Harmon’s arms. “You’re nothing like them. I was a grown woman when we met—and I practically had to proposition you.”
I’d like to stay in Harmon’s arms, but remembering what I have to tell him, I move away.
“I’ve just come from Kevin Bantree,” I say. I explain how Kevin demolished my alibi for Rudy.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” Harmon says angrily. “I don’t believe Rudy would hurt Lila.”
Harmon’s faith in Rudy touches me—and makes it harder to say what I have to say next.
“That’s not all. It’s not just Rudy’s alibi that’s been ruined; it’s yours. I didn’t get home until four-twenty. Bantree says that would have given you time to get to campus and back while I was gone.”
Harmon goes very still. “And what do you think?” he asks in a low, tight voice.
It takes me a second to understand he’s asking me if I think he killed Lila. “I’d sooner believe Rudy did it.”
It’s not how I meant to put it, but it is perhaps the most effective way I could have professed my belief in Harmon’s innocence. I know that Harmon has always believed that Rudy comes first with me. I know he’s always tried to understand that. But I also know it’s always irked him.
A shudder goes through him, breaking the tension in his face and releasing a single tear. “That’s all that matters to me,” he says. “That you believe me.”
“But it’s not all that matters,” I say. “You don’t have an alibi and Luther does. Kevin wouldn’t say who but I’m sure it’s Jill Frankel. She’s been seeing Luther all along and I don’t think she’ll have any trouble lying for him.”
“No, I don’t see Jill having any trouble lying either.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
He looks embarrassed. “You know I went out on a few dates with her, right? Before you and I started seeing each other?” I nod. “Well, on one of those dates she got very drunk and told me she had lied on her résumé. She never graduated from Yale Drama School.”
“No! How did Jean miss that?”
Harmon shrugs. “I’m afraid Jean’s missed a lot over the years. You know, this scandal about Woody . . . well, it won’t look good for Jean that she’s taken all his money for the school all these years. And if there’s an accusation against me . . . even if I’m not arrested I don’t see her keeping me on.”
“It’s not going to come to that,” I tell Harmon. I take the red flyer from my pocket. “I’ll go to Jill tonight before the play. I’ll threaten to reveal that she lied on her résumé if she continues lying for Luther.”
Harmon shakes his head. “That could be dangerous, Tess. If people found out they might say you’re trying to protect Rudy. I wouldn’t want you to do anything that might put him at risk.”
“I’ll just have to take that chance,” I say.
His face crumples and I can see he’s about to cry. I rush into his arms and hide my face against his chest. I can’t look at his expression of gratitude knowing that I’m still keeping the truth about the sweatshirt from him and the police.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Although I hadn’t gone to the first night’s performance of The Crucible, I’d gotten a text from Jean telling me that there had been a great turnout. I doubt, though, that the first night was as well attended as this performance. The chapel is packed when we get there, the crowd hushed out of respect for the occasion, and I’m afraid we’ll have to stand until I see Jean down in the front