Queen (28 page)

An unwelcome sensation of déjà vu came over Queen as she entered the principal's office at Snow Gap Elementary School. She took a seat in the outer office and absorbed the ambiance. Schools seemed to have one thing in common, a lingering odor of chalk dust, floor sweep, and the sweaty bodies of children hard at work and play.

But this one differed drastically from the school in Cradle Creek that Queen and her sisters had graduated from. It was clean and updated, and she could hear the purr of electric typewriters in an adjoining office as well as a copy machine kicking out paper with smooth regularity.

She closed her eyes, remembering vividly the day she and her sisters had gone to enroll at Cradle Creek and the fear of rejection that had accompanied her.

That day had been a turning point in Queen's life.

She would never forget Jedda Willis's kindness. The principal of Cradle Creek had been an extremely sensitive woman, one who'd immediately seen the defenses twelve-year-old Queen was struggling to maintain. Mrs. Willis had let Johnny Houston's daughters maintain what dignity they could in the face of their adversity.

"Miss Houston?"

The secretary's voice startled Queen. She stood with k, fumbling for her purse, smoothing down her hair and clothing in a sudden fit of anxiety, and then she remembered that she wasn't in trouble. J.J. was the one problems. But in Cody's absence, it was up to her to fix them.

"Yes," Queen answered. "I'm coming." Stanley Brass looked up in pleased surprise at the woman who entered his office. He stood up and came
to his desk with an outstretched hand. "Queen Houston, isn't it? We met at the bank."

Queen smiled. "Yes, we did. I'm glad you remember me. It makes my visit here easier."

Stanley nodded as he ushered her to a seat. "Now, what brings you to my office? Are the boys having problems of which I'm unaware?"

"You could say that," Queen said. She began to repeat the boys' conversation that she'd overheard as well as what J.J. told her.

Stanley's expression grew serious. He fiddled with a pen and made periodic notes as she continued to talk, pausing only now and then to interrupt to clarify the description she was giving him.

"… and that's about all he would say regarding the man's description," Queen finished. She leaned back on the chair and sighed, relieved to have given part of the responsibility of this problem to someone else.

Stanley frowned. This wasn't the first time something like this had occurred. With the influx of strangers in town every year during ski season, they often had an oddball or two pull such stunts. Unfortunately, when it involved children, it involved him. The world had changed drastically since he was a child, and he often felt a sense of helplessness in relating to it.

"I can't thank you enough for coming to me with this," he said. "I'll take instant precautions, of course. I'll meet with my teachers this evening after school. And… I'll notify Sheriff Miller immediately. He will need to be on the lookout for this man. He could be preying on other children outside the school system."

"I know that you'll do all you can," Queen said. "But my concern still rests on the fact that the man was asking about me. I can't help but feel responsible."

Stanley shook his head. "No, Miss Houston, I tend to disagree. I learned long ago in this business that you can't be responsible for other people's shortcomings. You do what you can when the opportunity is presented, and then mourn for what you can't. But you never… absolutely never… feel guilt. You can't heal the world. Remember that."

Queen nodded and stood. "And I'm sure you'll be hearing from the boys' father just as soon as he returns. I didn't think I was stepping out of line by coming to you in his stead. I felt this was too pressing an issue to wait."

"I think you were right," Stanley said. "And thank you for coming. Please keep me informed of any developments from your end; I'll do the same."

Queen left the office with an entirely new appreciation for Stanley Brass. What had been most assuring of all was that he'd taken her seriously, treated her as a respected citizen, and believed her implicitly. It was a new and heady experience for her.

She walked down the hall and was about to exit when the bell rang for classes to change. She stood aside as children swarmed out of the rooms like drones in a hive, hunting for the next place in which they needed to be.

J.J. spotted her instantly. It would have been impossible not to. She stood heads above the children and most of the teachers, her vivid coloring and height a beacon to who chose to look her way.

"Queenie!" His shriek of delight was heard by several other children as he broke ranks and ran toward her.

She grinned and caught him on impact, ruffling his hair and pulling at his collar as he danced around her feet, thrilled that someone special was available to show off to his friends.

"This is my Queenie," J.J. said as his teacher came through the crowd.

Queen smiled at the woman who had come to check on her wayward pupil. "Mrs.
Barrett, isn't it?" she asked. "I'm Queen Houston. J.J.'s—"

"Oh!" Lisa Barrett's face broke into a wide, infectious smile. "Miss Houston! I'm so glad to finally meet you. J.J. talks of you constantly. It's Queenie says this and Queenie says that. You've made quite an impression on this young man, no doubt." And then on a more serious note, she added, "And may I say we're all extremely glad that you came out of your ordeal unharmed."

Queen's eyes filled with unexpected tears as she nodded, then looked down at the unabashed adoration J.J. was giving her. Her hand slid gentry across his forehead, then came to rest on his shoulder.

"Well, he made an impression on me, too. I'd say the feeling is mutual. Actually, the entire Bonner family has pretty much claimed my heart." She blushed the moment she said it. "I mean, the boys are special… you understand…"

Lisa Barrett grinned. "Oh, don't bother to explain. I met their father. I know exactly what you mean." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well, I'm happily married these last fifteen years, but if I weren't… and if…" She laughed. "You know what I mean."

Queen grinned. There was no need to reply.

"J.J., say good-bye to Queen, and quickly, please. You need to get to your
next class," Mrs. Barrett said. "Miss Houston, it's been a pleasure. I hope we
meet again soon. We have a yearly tradition of Halloween parties in the
elementary. If you would like, we always need sponsors to bake—"

"Queenie can make anything," J.J. piped up. "She's' the best cook in the whole world."

They laughed.

"It looks like I've just been invited to a party," Queen said. "I'll talk to you later about details."

And then she knelt and took J.J. by the arms and pulled him close so that none of the other children passing by could hear. "I talked to Mr. Brass about the man, J.J. He's going to take care of everything. You just remember what we talked about last night. If you see him again, you tell Mrs. Barrett, or Mr. Brass, or any of the other teachers who might happen to be close by, okay?"

Lisa Barrett frowned as she overheard part of what Queen was telling her student. "Problem?"

Queen nodded. "Mr. Brass will fill you in later, I think. I'd better go so you can get back to work and J.J. can get to class." J.J. seemed reluctant to turn loose of her. "Pizza tonight," she promised. He left with a smile.

"You're very good for those boys," Lisa Barrett said.

"No… quite the contrary," Queen said. "They're good for me."

She left the school with a lighter heart than she'd had in weeks and felt pleased with the fact that she'd made the right move. But there were a few more items on her agenda before she could leave Snow Gap, and she needed to hurry and finish them before Cody came home. She made a run for the Blazer and was soon headed back toward the shopping area of town.

She turned the corner and, as she did, saw that classes were changing in the high school on the opposite side of campus. It didn't take long to spy Donny's familiar dark head and lanky figure in one of the groups of boys walking from one classroom to another.

She honked, then grinned at Donny's exuberant response as he waved and whistled while she drove away.

"Hey, hey, hey, Bonner," one of Donny's friends remarked, and added his own brand of wolf whistle to Queen's retreating vehicle. "Who's the babe? You been holding out?"

Donny glared. "That's no babe! That's Queen, the lady who takes care of us. And don't get any fresh ideas. If my dad's half as smart as I think he is, she'll be my new stepmother any day now."

The boy whistled beneath his breath. "She's still a knockout, Bonner. Looks real hot."

Donny punched his friend on the arm. "You don't know hot from hopeless, Marv, and we both know it. So save it for some girl who's stupid enough to fall for it… and you."

The group laughed and went on their way, leaving Donny with a new awareness of his soon-to-be mother. His overprotective mode kicked in, and he renewed his efforts to be on the alert for the pervert she'd warned him about last night. That was all they needed—some guy trying to outdo that Virgil Stratton nut and hurt his Queenie or his little brothers.

He hurried on to class and hoped that when he got home this evening, his father would be back. Responsibility was a heavy load to carry alone.

Thanks to the abrupt change in weather, Wally Morrow had shed his trench coat for a rather weedy-looking sport coat and donned neat round sunglasses that unintentionally hid his small, close-set eyes and did their part in minimizing his beaky nose. The old soft-brimmed hat was worn more to hide his thinning hair than for style.

It was this small change in wardrobe that saved him from Queen's notice as she walked out of the pharmacy and back toward her vehicle.

She might have missed him, but Wally didn't miss a thing about her. It was his first up close and personal sighting of the woman he'd been hired to investigate. The description that Lenore Whittier had given him did not do justice to her beauty. He suspected that it was sour grapes as much as anything.

Wally turned his back to the Blazer at the curb and used the store window as a mirror in which to watch Queen Houston's next move. She tossed a small sack onto the seat, locked the door, and then made a dash across the street between traffic to a dress shop on the opposite side.

"Okay," Wally muttered to himself, taking the opportunity to make notes unobserved. "Been to the school, to the doctor, to the pharmacy, and now going shopping." He dotted the i's and crossed the t's and privately thought that Lenore Whittier was spitting into the wind.

He'd been on the job for weeks and had yet to hear one negative thing about the lanky beauty under observation or see her do anything suspicious. But he had his orders, and they were to stay on the job until he found something Mrs. Whittier could use against Cody Bonner to prove him an unfit father.

He slid his notebook inside his jacket, stuffed his hands in his pockets, which made his pants sag even more across the rump, and shuffled down the street to hang out on the corner with a few ski bums who were waiting for a bus to take them to higher ground.

The chinook that had come and gone had left them with no powder on which to schuss, no moguls to attack, no place on which to execute perfect snowplows that would show off their highly defined thigh and buttock muscles.

Wally Morrow stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb in the crowd of young men bursting with vitality and joie de vivre. But it didn't matter. As long as no one actually recognized him, he was satisfied.

Queen entered the store with one goal clearly in mind, and that was to add to her wardrobe of sweatsuits, sweaters, and jeans. Today she wanted soft and feminine. She wanted to look pretty for Cody. And the dress in the window would do the trick, if they had it in her size.

Minutes later she was in a dressing room, stripped down to nothing but her bra and panties. The dress she'd picked from the rack was a deep, dark, cranberry-colored knit that would hug her body in soft folds. Her fingers caressed the fabric, and then anticipation had her fumbling with the zipper as she quickly pulled it off the hanger and slipped it over her head.

It was better than she'd hoped. The color didn't clash with her hair as she'd feared; quite the opposite—it enhanced the nut-brown undertones and auburn highlights to perfection. The sweetheart neckline was low enough to taunt an observer's gaze to wander toward her generous bust and just high enough to remain sedate. The princess waistline emphasized her slender waist as well as the soft, gentle flare of her hips. And the fabric from which it was made molded against her shapely legs as she walked.

"This is the one," she said, and in no time had dressed in her old clothes and paid for her purchase.

Minutes later she was back out on the sidewalk, her purchase in hand, a smile on her face that would have stopped traffic had the drivers been looking.

But only one person was watching her exit, and he wasn't driving. Wally Morrow stared, blind to the fact that the crowd of young men in which he'd been hiding all got on a bus and left, leaving him alone on the street corner with his lust in high gear.

"Oh, my," he muttered, feeling a strange stirring in his nether regions that hadn't bothered him in months. "Oh, my," he repeated, and watched her breasts bounce enticingly and her hips undulate in rhythm to the long strides she was taking.

Queen started across the street toward her Blazer, still thinking about Cody's reaction to her dress, and almost missed seeing the man on the corner. In fact, if a car hadn't honked for her to hurry across, she might not looked up. But it did, and she saw, and something about the way he was standing, and the solemn, intent way which he was watching, caught her attention. Wally Morrow jerked as he suddenly realized she was staring back at him. "Oh, shit," he muttered, and turned in a complete circle, so caught off guard by her attention that he forgot everything he'd ever learned during his fifteen years as a private investigator. Don't attention to yourself, and don't panic. He'd just done both.