Today we have a sneak peek from author Dave Vizard’s novel, A Formula for Murder.
When school officials fail to protect teens from a predator teacher at school, a parent decides to get revenge for a young girl who died from suicide. Reporter Nick Steele stumbles upon the story of a lifetime when he discovers a complex plot to execute school administrators with prescription medicine. Three administrators are targeted for death. Two are dead. Will Nick and his sidekicks unravel the mystery and write the story before the third school official is killed?
Here is an excerpt from A Formula for Murder…
Darrin Appleton had only been working at the school for a year when he met Sarah during her freshman year. Immediately, she was drawn to him. The band teacher was youthful and easy-going. He had a light beard and shaggy hair. He was tall and slender with a medium build.
But it also became apparent that he played favorites with his students. Sarah told Nick Steele and Tanya Johnson she knew that he liked her right away.
By the middle of her freshman year, Sarah told Nick and Tanya that Appleton offered to work with her on her technique after class. She felt honored and fortunate. She never missed the twice a week, hour-long sessions.
By the beginning of her sophomore year, the touching began. Sarah told Nick and Tanya that Appleton would put his hands on her to adjust her posture or the way she held her instrument. His fingers were soft. His touch was gentle.
“I didn’t mind at first,” she said, getting up from the table to walk off her nervousness. She started pacing back and forth in the kitchen. “I knew getting the technique right was important. His adjustments would make me a better player.”
Soon, though, she said his hands lingered after the adjustments were made. One hand would rest on her leg, the other on her shoulder. When he stood in front of her and lifted her elbows higher to elevate the flute, the outside of his fingers would brush against her breasts. Sarah said his touch made her tingle. It also made her nervous and uncomfortable.
As time went on, he would stand beside her as she played, putting his right hand in the middle of her back, gently pressing against her bra strap. One day, Sarah said he placed his hand there and pushed the garment back and forth, causing her breasts to shake lightly. She looked up at him and saw him peering down into her blouse, watching the gentle sway of flesh.
“It scared me,” she said. “I stopped playing and told him that he made me feel uncomfortable.”
The session ended. And so did his lavish attention. During the next week, he did not invite her to stay after class for the special instruction. She cried every day.
Finally, after two weeks had passed, the band instructor asked Sarah if she would like to attend a practice session after school on Thursday.
Sarah recalled primping in front of the mirror Thursday morning. She wore a black, short skirt held together on the side by a large decorative safety pin. Her top was bright red. It was tight and cut low.
When he finally arrived for the private session, he marched into the band room and quickly gave Sarah a long, warm hug and said that he had missed her. He patted her back.
Then, he put his hands on the middle of her back. She recalled how he slowly rocked her bra strap back and forth. This time she did not complain. She looked up. But he was not looking into her top. He used his right hand to hold the back of her head and he leaned down and kissed her. She melted into his arms. From that day forward, she readily fulfilled his every command. He owned her heart and body.