Relative Danger (28 page)

She nodded, making notes. “Kids do stuff like that all the time. Rebelling against adults.”

“And somebody wrote on my mail truck.”

Her head jerked back. “You drive a Lexus and a mail truck?”

I certainly wasn’t going to tell her about the Mustang parked outside. “When I fly into a city, I like to rent different kinds of vehicles.”

“Why? Most people rent the same kind of cars.”

“I try to match what I drive to my mood. Variety keeps me from stagnating.”

She turned to her keyboard. “What was written on the mail truck?”

“‘Leave or die, bitch.’”

Jones peered at me. “Did you talk to anyone in the office at school about that? Did you ask if anybody was seen around your mail truck?”

“The staff was all busy. A kid pulled the fire alarm that day, and everybody had to go outside. Then they had to get the kids back into classes.”

Jones made notations. “Okay,” she said, glancing up, “anything else done to you? Anything that might have scared or concerned you?”

I didn’t like the way some kids looked at me, or that time Abby Jeansonne whipped her body around and gazed at me. Didn’t like the looks of some people in the office. “Nothing was done to my Mustang convertible,” I said without thinking.

“Convertible?”

I’d goofed. With a shrug, I said, “Let’s see, what else? I was locked in my classroom, I believe. Not long before Mrs. Peekers was locked in the custodians’ room. And then somebody shot at me.”

Jones blinked rapidly. “Maybe,” I amended. I took the bullet out of my purse and gave it to her, explaining that I wasn’t sure it was new. And someone may have tried to run me down at a curb, but again, I wasn’t certain. “The driver probably just cut the corner too sharply. And he—or she—drove through a red light. The person could have trouble seeing colors.”

Little sighs sounding like exasperation came from Jones as she typed all I told, and as I considered all those small events together, they seemed like a mountain of trouble. Eventually Jones stopped. “Were any of the kids jealous of Katherine?”

“Jealous?”

“Your granddaughter’s popular at school. She makes good grades.”

I asked how she knew, and Jones reminded me that deputies had been around Sidmore High. They’d gathered information about many people. Some of the teachers. People they were close to. She asked lots more questions, and when we were through, I felt as if I had taken an all-day exam and hadn’t studied nearly enough.

How would Kat do on exams if she had to go through anything like this inquisition? And then, of course, the police had quizzed her. They would ask more questions. Prod her about enemies. How could anyone not like Kat? I wondered, leaving Detective Sandra Jones, who said she might contact me again for more information. She kept my bullet.

I restrained my grandmotherly instinct that told me to rush to Kat. Instead, I phoned her house while I drove.

Roger answered. “She’s exhausted from queries. And what happened.” He was fine, he said. His voice did sound strong. Fear for Kat must have invigorated him.

“You try to rest, too,” I said.

“I’ll want to inspect Kat’s car. And find the bastard who made that bomb.”

I liked hearing Roger take control. I told him about the police station.

“Locked your room?” he asked, incredulously. “And somebody shot at you?”

“I’m not sure. Wish I would be.” Of course he was shocked to learn that I’d even gone to the school.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Mom, I’m your son!”

The power in my child’s voice commanded my tears to come. They seared my cheeks, their salinity finding my lips. “I love you, Roger.”

“And I love you, Mom. Never forget that. Come to me whenever you have a problem. Please.”

My hand clasping the phone quivered even once we clicked off.

I gripped my steering wheel, wanting to speed to their house and hold Roger and Kat. They needed to rest, needed some time alone.

I needed someone to lean on. I couldn’t help myself. My car closed in on the last remaining blocks to Gil’s restaurant.

Chapter 21

I rushed inside Cajun Delights, not pausing to think. I only felt. I felt a need to find comfort on Gil’s shoulder. Felt a need for him to love me.

He met me as soon as I entered. “Cealie.” Gil’s face showed a mixture of joy and surprise. He was walking past the entrance but came to me, his arms outstretched.

“Gil,” I whispered from my secure place against his chest, welcoming his arms around me. I clasped his back and felt its power. Lingering in his embrace, I ignored voices of hungry patrons who entered, the strength to meet Kat’s problems seeping back to me.

Gil took my hand and moved me from the crowd gathering near the door. “What happened at Kat’s school?” he asked, sounding worried. “I just heard and was about to call you. A bomb blew up in the parking lot?”

Hearing Gil say the words brought back all the images. The intensity of his gray eyes when he turned them to mine swamped me with emotions. I fought the sting surging up behind my eyes and nodded.

“Kat didn’t get hurt?”

“No, thank God, at least not physically.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Do the police know anything? The news didn’t say much, only that Sidmore High had been evacuated.”

“Nobody knows what happened yet.” At least nothing the police were sharing with me. I hadn’t considered the media. They obviously hadn’t announced that Kat’s car had been the one targeted.

I was ready to tell him all about it. I’d tell Gil all of Kat’s problems and even share with him the news that I’d been subbing. Sticking my nose in police business and Kat’s, trying to make her take exams and show up for graduation. I’d pour out my woes to this man who had stood by me through turmoil in the past. I adored Gil, I realized while his firm hand clasped mine, guiding me toward the back of his restaurant.

We passed tables filled with people eating stuffed flounder and bacon-wrapped shrimp. I’d tell Gil all and share my fears and my theories. Tell about threats that had, or might have occurred with me.

He glanced at me, his breath blowing out relief. “At least Kat’s all right. We’ll have to talk more in the office.” He was leading me toward a door in the rear when my peripheral vision caught sight of mega cleavage above a woman’s tight black shirt. I glanced at Gil’s table, where Legs sat, watching us.

Ramrod stiffness gripped my back. My hands grew cold, my neck muscles rigid. While I’d be pouring out my miseries to Gil, she would sit here to wait for him? And then after I left, she would ask him to tell her everything I said.

My feet stopped abruptly. I pulled my hand away from Gil’s. “I don’t have time to visit,” I said.

His eyebrows shot up. “Why not?”

I knew his girlfriend was staring at my back. Refusing to give her a direct look, I replied to Gil in a cold, accusing tone. “You have a new friend.” I tilted my head to indicate that young woman.

Gil grinned. “Cealie, you and I have been apart for a while.”

“I only came in for one thing,” I said, my fury-blurred gaze managing to spy a passing waiter’s plate and giving me the idea. I needed to stop Gil’s upcoming spiel about an unattached man needing a lover. “I want French fries.”

“You don’t even like French fries,” Gil said.

My fingernails bit into my palm. “I do now. Could you get me an order?”

He asked a waitress to fix me some. “And I want them to go,” I added. Gil stared at me, and I clenched my lips to pause my inner squirm.

“Sorry I missed you last night,” he said. “I heard you came here with Kat and Roger.”

“I figured you wouldn’t be here.” Was that a lie? I wasn’t certain anymore. I only felt the female eyes boring into my backside.

“If I’d known, I might have been able to change my plans.”

“No problem. We ate. The food was good.”

Gil’s expression turned bland. Were we strangers? Acquaintances? People who’d known each other once but no longer?

“I’m sure the school will close for a while,” he said.

I nodded. “I guess the police will check everything out and make sure things are safe before anybody goes back there.”

“Graduation might be pushed back.”

I hadn’t thought about that. Didn’t really want to. “Maybe so.”

“I’ll be invited?”

My mind and body all felt stiff. “I’ll ask Kat.”

Gil narrowed his eyes. “Cealie, can I help with anything? Don’t you want to sit down and talk?”

I had already talked too much. “We’re all right. Thanks for asking.” I accepted my bag of fries from a waitress and gave her the same polite thanks. I held the bag up toward Gil. “Your treat?”

His face was stern. I turned and rushed out with my eyes focused straight ahead.

* * *

At the condo I pulled on running shoes and used them to pound the cement. I ran so hard that my heart pumped harder than I could remember it ever doing. Not so good for a mature woman who hadn’t stayed in shape. But I needed to dump out every inch of fury coiling through my lungs. Every ounce of fear. Every concern I had for Kat and Roger. Forget Gil and counting on him.

Where was my upbeat attitude? I wondered.

Lost, it seemed, when my grandchild became threatened.

I was panting when I returned. I didn’t feel like talking to Minnie. She leaned sideways in the pot. My fault for sure. Just like Kat’s problem. She hadn’t been in danger until I came around, shoving my nosey self into her school.

I threw the French fries into a trash can and slammed the cover. Slumping across the couch, I heaved guilt-laden breaths. I needed to stop thinking of the restaurant, stop all the worry. Being angry at myself wouldn’t help me find answers to help Kat. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to purposefully calm my breathing.

Detective Jones had mentioned jealousy. Could Kat have taken away another girl’s boyfriend?

Hardly a reason for planting a bomb. But how would I know? I’d seen some of those female students who looked fearsome. Their tiny tops and bottoms. Some girls showed tremendous cleavage. And skirts almost to their panties, if they wore any. Some of those females were surely fooling around with young men. Who knew what they would do to keep them?

Hannah Hendrick also had huge boobs. Anne Little had huge gold hoops on her ears. Cynthia Petre had small braces and mismatched clothes. Harry Wren had many cacti. Grant Labruzzo killed one of them. Tom Reynolds missed school. He hurried from the warehouse church after he saw me.

I reached my arms out and stretched. My calves were tight. I’d run hard and hadn’t stretched before or afterward. My view of the ceiling took in the chandelier’s glistening teardrops. No spider in sight, but a piece of web clung to one of them. A deadly web…like the one Kat was caught in. I needed to set her free.

Worry cluttered my mind. Of course, the detectives and Roger were doing all they could to help Kat now. But I’d been in different situations connected to her—or maybe some weren’t. I needed to sort things out.

Detective Jones had suggested that another senior might’ve worried about Kat’s final average beating his or hers. Maybe that person would lose an important scholarship because of Kat’s grades. But if Kat didn’t show up for finals…

The detective’s suggestion had pointed toward a good student going after Kat. With all of those apparent punks in the school, we also had to analyze those who weren’t? The good kids.

Where had I heard of someone losing out on a scholarship?

Sledge, caught in a compromising situation with a female student. Grant Labruzzo had turned him in.

Now I was back to considering the bad kids. My head reeled, and I imagined Legs at Gil’s side, asking about the girl he wanted to watch graduate. What would he say? That he’d almost married her grandma? No, he wouldn’t tell her that. But Legs would want to attend graduation with him, if he went at all.

If Kat showed up.

My head lolled back. Roger was taking control. He had attended college for two years. His choice to quit. He’d wanted to keep working on cars. Loved his job, built up his own business. My son had been enthusiastic about his occupation, until Nancy took sick.

Nancy.
Her image and soft voice swirled. She didn’t graduate. And even while we assured her it didn’t matter, to her it always did. She appeared the perfect wife and mother, yet never seemed to feel as important as other people. Only because she’d missed receiving that one damned piece of paper.

Kat would be safe. I imagined Nancy’s voice telling me that and felt her assurance. The police would protect all the students.

I hopped to my feet. Yes, Kat would graduate. I didn’t need Gil. I didn’t need anyone’s help any longer.

I rushed across the den for my cell phone, and it rang. The incoming number showed my Cape Cod office. “Cealie!” Bud Denton cried when I answered.

My heart jumped to my throat. “Bud, what’s wrong?”

“Isn’t a semicolon’s main job to replace a comma and ‘and’?”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t totally certain, and Jena’s out for vacation. Sue Ellen isn’t sure either.”

“Bud…”

“It is, right?”

“Don’t you have a nice grammar book or two or five?”

“My glasses broke. And Sue Ellen needs to get some.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes, you’re correct.”

“Ah, thanks, Cealie. So how are things going for you?”

My eyes rolled up. “They’re going.”

“Great. See you.”

I clicked off. Soon I was going to have to fly up to Cape Cod and have a little instructional talk with Bud and Sue Ellen. Did I have the right people running that office? Should I move there and run it myself?

I shook my head. I didn’t want to settle down. And I couldn’t think about it now. Much more critical concerns swirled through my head. Kat. Roger. Gil. Legs. Exploding automobiles.

The explosion grew in my mind, its flames and racket and blown-up fragments drifting toward the school building and trickling inside. Nearing the auditorium, filled with graduates in caps and gowns.

An explosion on stage?

“What?” Kat asked once I reached her on the phone.

I repeated my statement. “Kat, don’t graduate!”