Murder Is Our Mascot (3 page)

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Drenched and out of breath, Emily banged on Tad's door. He opened it, looking both amused and sexy, which only irritated Emily more. She thrust dog accoutrements at him, blowing hair out of her eyes. Tad scooped up the dog carrier at the top of the stairs, leading the way into his apartment. "How did you get Duke in here if you can't touch him without sneezing your head off?" he asked. He let Duke out and the dog sniffed around and then settled comfortably on the bed Tad had made for him in the living room. Tad and Duke were apparently old friends.

Emily, trying not to feel left out by their instant male bonding, huffed, "Lucky for me, Helen had a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Unlucky for Helen, she now needs a new pair." Tad snorted out a laugh, which he adroitly turned into a cough.

"So, what should we do now?" Emily asked. Now that Duke was safely delivered and she had caught her breath, she took a good look around her. Her eyes widened at the large number of candles bathing Tad's apartment in a warm glow due to the power outage. The apartment suddenly felt too small to contain the both of them. She felt her cheeks warm and quickly backtracked to rephrase her earlier question. "I mean, what should we do about Helen?"

Tad watched Emily silently for a few seconds. A few very long seconds, she thought. Tad had shown her absolutely no attention in high school, unless you counted his smirks and nicknames. Emily had had a huge crush on him as a freshman, but he had seemed oblivious to her very presence. Once he graduated, Emily had moved on, developing many more crushes over the years. But once both she and Tad had returned to town and they had ended up teaching together, Emily noticed that Tad no longer ignored her. In fact, there were times when she thought there might even be something brewing.

Tad finally broke eye contact and said, "Well, Nancy, I think we'd better head up to the school and see what we can find out. Duke seems to be fine." They both looked over to where Duke was sound asleep, snuffling out little dog snores.

"Alrighty, then, let's go. But 'Nancy?'" Emily questioned.

"Nancy Drew. I bet you read every one you could get your hands on when you were growing up, right?" And there was the smirk again.

"No comment." Emily tossed her head and headed out the door, leaving Tad to follow.

Tad insisted on their taking his sensible black Prius, refusing to set foot in what he called "Emily's deathtrap." Emily had bought her red PT Cruiser when she graduated from college. It had been all shiny and new then, but even Emily couldn't deny that it had seen better days. Besides her penchant for speeding, she also tended to multitask when she drove. Apparently reading and driving was
not
considered a way to better utilize time to most people. But despite its dents and dings, Emily knew it would be a long time before she could bear to part with her beloved car. She thought her PT looked very British. It's what she imagined Hercule Poirot would drive if Agatha Christie were still alive to create more mysteries for him and his little "gray cells" to solve. Clearly, Emily was a true Anglophile. Her dream was to visit London one day, but so far, the closest she had come was pinning sites to visit on her Places to Go Pinterest board.

Emily wiggled in her seat. She felt like they were traveling at the speed of snail. "Can't you go any faster, Grandpa?"

Tad merely glanced her way, never taking his hands off their ten and two position. "No. That's why my car doesn't look like it's been through a demolition derby."

Emily resisted, barely, the temptation to stick her tongue out at him. She wracked her mind for a witty comeback, but Tad's subtle cologne was penetrating her brain, clouding her senses. She settled for giving him the cold shoulder, staring out the passenger-side window instead. The rain was still coming down. An occasional rumble of thunder shook the heavens. Suddenly, Emily became aware of what she was actually staring at.

She smacked Tad's shoulder. "Look! The power must be back on." Lights were blooming in the windows of the houses they passed on their way to the school. The school itself, however, looked fairly deserted. The light was on in Principal Matthews's office and in a classroom at the far end of the second floor. Two vehicles were in the employee parking lot when they pulled in. One was Principal Matthews's black Ford 4x4. The other vehicle looked brand new, its temporary plate stuck in the back window.

Emily could have sworn Tad had to swipe at a drop of drool as he took in the sleek, forest-green Cobra parked beside them.

"Who in the heck drives that?" Emily asked.

Tad's only response was a shrug as he was still too busy checking out the car. "One lucky guy," he finally muttered.

"Or gal," Emily corrected before she hurried through the steadily falling rain to the main doors.

Inside, Emily stopped to shake rain off like a wet dog. Tad rushed in behind her, running a hand through his own sopping hair and scattering droplets of water. Still dripping, they headed toward Principal Matthews's office. Rounding the long counter that separated his office from the secretary's work area, Emily tugged at Tad's shirt, pulling him back so she could whisper to him.

"What?" Tad snapped in a hoarse whisper.

"Look at him. I almost hate to bother him. Have you ever seen him look so…well, not like himself?"

Tad peeked over her shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, he looks like a drowning man. A murder in his school has to be devastating for him. Wish I had a lifeline to throw him. At least we can show him some support."

Emily still hesitated before she knocked on his door. Principal Matthews always wore a tie, even to sporting events. He was fastidious about how he ran his school and was the same about his appearance. Everything about him always exuded confidence and professionalism. But right now, he was slumped at his desk, his head in his hands. His tie had been jerked askew and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone. His thick gray mane was disheveled. Emily was engulfed in waves of guilt, although she knew it wasn't exactly her fault that she had stumbled over a dead body in the school. But still, she hated to add to his concern. Maybe they should wait until later to talk to him about Helen and her possible disappearance.

Tad, apparently, had no such qualms. He strode through the door and clapped a hand on Principal Matthews's shoulder. The older man looked up, startled, but then seeing who was in his office, he gave them a small smile. Emily eased into one of the chairs in front of his massive desk. She squirmed uncomfortably. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she still felt like a student about to be chastised, nevertheless.

"How are things going?" Tad asked, taking the chair next to Emily's. She noticed he appeared totally at ease. He'd probably never seen the inside of the principal's office in high school, Emily thought, unless it was to receive some kind of merit award. She inched away from Mr. Perfect. Tad shot her a quizzical glance, but Emily focused on Principal Matthews.

"The police are through upstairs. They're sending over some people they know to clean so we can have the school up and running again tomorrow. I can't believe we've had this, this—atrocity happen here. Emily, are you okay?"

Principal Matthews's eyes were full of genuine concern, and Emily had to fight to speak over the sudden lump in her throat.

"I'm fine. Really," she reiterated when he lowered his brows at her. "I'm sorry about everything. And I certainly don't want to add to your worries, but have you seen Helen recently?"

"Helen? No, actually, I haven't. I checked her office earlier to see about coordinating some grief counseling for the students, but she wasn't there. I've left a message on her voice mail. Why do you ask? Is something wrong?" He looked like a man on a ledge. Emily didn't want to be the one who made him leap.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Tad was quick to reassure him. "Emily heard Duke barking and let him out to do his business. She saw that his food and water bowls were empty, and we all know Helen loves that dog like her own child, but I'm sure she just got caught up somewhere due to the weather. Now that the power is back on, she's sure to turn up soon."

"Okay. If you say so. That doesn't sound like Helen, though. I'll try to call her again later. If you hear anything, let me know, and I'll do the same."

"Of course. Anything else we can do?" Emily asked.

"No, I think I've got it under control."

As they stood up to leave, Tad stopped to ask Principal Matthews about the Cobra in the parking lot.

"Oh, that's Mr. Barnes's. I think he purchased it recently. He's been a big help to me today. I didn't realize he was still here, though. Must be working on lesson plans." Principal Matthews looked down at the notes on his desk, and Emily and Tad took that as their cue to leave.

Once they were back out in the hallway, Tad headed to the main doors, but Emily turned to the stairs. "Where are you going?"

Tad looked exasperated, but Emily gave him a grim smile. "To find out why Mr. Barnes has been here all day, that's where." She continued up the stairs and was not surprised to hear Tad following her. She was grateful for his presence when she reached the second floor. She didn't want to look in the direction of the copy room, but her eyes had other ideas. As if drawn by a magnet, her head swiveled in that direction. Yellow crime scene tape still sealed off the room, denying anyone access. Emily felt sick to her stomach when she thought of what the cleaning crew would have to deal with. She shuddered, feeling a bit faint. Tad placed his hand on the small of her back, urging her toward the other end of the hall. She knew he was trying to comfort her, and while she appreciated his efforts, it would be some time before she would feel comfortable going anywhere near that copy room.

A light shone under Mr. Barnes's door. Emily had never particularly liked Mr. Barnes. He was one of those obnoxious know-it-alls. He rubbed everyone the wrong way, maybe due to his penchant for correcting people on any and every thing, every chance he got. Especially in front of a crowd. This definitely made for some fun faculty meetings. Jim had been the one who could lighten the mood with a joke or two when Mr. Barnes was on a roll. Everyone knew that Mr. Barnes was not a fan of Coach Layton. Jim hadn't seemed to care one way or the other, and Emily had admired that about him. As for Mr. Barnes, she had yet to find anything to admire, and she
had
looked. She had been taught to always look for the best in people. But Mr. Barnes was a black hole, devoid of positive qualities. He definitely knew his stuff chemistry-wise, but his personality was off-putting to students too. They took his classes only because they had to.

Emily and Tad could see through the small window in his door that Mr. Barnes was working at his computer, his back to them. Tad was going to knock, but Emily turned the doorknob instead. She was surprised to find it locked.

Mr. Barnes started and turned to glare at them when he heard them rattling his door. He stomped over and pulled the door open a crack. "What do you two want?"

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Barnes," Emily said pleasantly as she forced her way past him, Tad on her heels. "You've certainly been working hard today, haven't you? Principal Matthews said you've been here all day."

"Is there a crime against wanting to be prepared, Ms. Taylor? Some of us don't wait until the last minute to get our things organized for class." He pointedly stared at Emily. She could feel her cheeks getting warm and figured they now looked like a baby's butt with a severe diaper rash, but, man, did this guy know how to push her buttons or what? She started to tell him exactly what she thought of his "preparedness" but felt Tad's hand on her back again. This time the gesture was not meant for comfort but as a warning. She silently fumed while Mr. Barnes watched her with his cold, beady eyes. He reminded her of a rat. A big rat. A big, ugly rat. A big, ugly rat that she would like to catch in a trap. Then she would…

Tad interrupted her silent tirade against Mr. Barnes, and their staring contest, by pointing to the windows and asking, "Hey, Richard, Principal Matthews said the Cobra out in the parking lot is yours. When did you get her? She sure is a beauty." He and Barnes headed toward the windows to check out the "beauty." Emily didn't bother to move. "Why are cars always referred to by feminine pronouns?" she asked instead.

"You're the English teacher—you tell us," was Barnes's reply.

Emily fought an internal battle between walking out the door or beaning Barnes with one of his own textbooks. She settled for the former, making her way down to her own room. That jerk was right about one thing, she fumed, unlocking her own door and flipping on the lights. She did need to prepare for tomorrow. She still hadn't made copies of that quiz, but the thought of going near the copy room caused her to feel faint again. She fell into her desk chair, sticking her head between her knees, deciding she would run the copies off on her own printer instead. What was the cost of a little paper and ink as opposed to her health and well-being, right?

A few minutes later, Tad found her still sitting with her head between her legs. "How's the view down there?"

Emily flipped her head back up and then wished she hadn't as the room spun from the head rush. "I've never noticed before how intricate the tile work is on our floors. You should check it out sometime. When you're not bonding over your lust for sports cars with Richard Barnes, that is."

Tad pulled up a student desk, planting his rear on the top of it and his feet in the seat. "Well, if you hadn't run out so fast, you could have heard the interesting gossip Richard had to share."

"I would never let my students sit in their desks that way. Off." Emily snapped her fingers at Tad like he was an unruly student. "But I'll let it go—for now—if you'll tell me what you found out."

"Gee, thanks, Teach. OCD much?" Tad leaned against the wall instead, watching her meticulously align the desk back in its proper row. Emily simply ignored him. "Okay, here's the deal," Tad continued. "A couple of days ago, as Richard was heading out for the day, he overheard two people arguing in Helen's office. "