THE HEART TEACHES BEST (REAL ROMANCE COLLECTION Book 2)

by M. J. Schiller

  “I’m right here, Captain. What do you need?”

  “Coop, I got a call from a Sgt. Escovar in Buenos Aries. He wanted me to make sure to tell you they have the wrong man. The man they have in custody admitted he’s not Steve Bertrand. Bertrand gave him a grand to take a flight to Buenos Aries and handed him his passport and license. According to them, he’s a dead-ringer for Bertrand, but when he showed them his real I.D. they finally bought his story.”

  Cooper looked over but Aidan was already pulling lights out to stick on top of his car. “Where is she?” he said with a scowl.

  “Walter Davis.” Cooper could feel the blood drain from his face as he thought of Laney all alone in the school building.

  Aidan pealed out onto a main artery from a side street, taking off with blinding speed. “Call her.”

  * * *

  Laney worked on a lesson for next week on the beginning chapters of Charles Portis’s True Grit. Every once in a while, her mind wandered back to Cooper’s antics at lunch and she chuckled, shook her head, and returned to her work. The lines of the text were beginning to blur together when she heard a noise in the hall.

  “Ricky?” she called out, hoping the janitor’s friendly voice would return her call, but she heard nothing. Maybe the heat, or the air conditioning was clicking on, hard to tell which because it was perpetually the wrong temperature in the building. Or maybe the clocks, the clocks always seemed to be ticking too loud when she was one of the last teachers left in the building. A couple of minutes later, she heard a similar metal click, and she got up to reassure herself there weren’t any large creatures of the rodent-nature in the hallway. She picked up a thick text book, ready to wing it at the first sound of scurrying if need be, and approached the door to the hallway. She reached out to flip on the switch, hoping to scare the little beast away, but she heard only the click without the accompanying, soothing light.

  “Damn!” She looked to her right and saw nothing, but when her head swung to the left, she froze in sheer terror. She couldn’t see his face, but the light was shining around a figure from the next hallway down, and she could tell from the silhouette it was Steve. Without pausing to review her options, she took off running to the right, dropping the book as she ran. She could see at the end of the hall the bullet-proof glass doors were closed, something that only happened, as far as she knew, when the school was on lockdown. When she reached it, she pushed the metal bar in frantically but the door wouldn’t give. She glanced back over her shoulder, and saw her pursuer was ambling down, as if in no hurry at all.

  “Laney. Long time no see.” Could that be Steve? It was the same icy voice she had heard in the shower room on the beach, but it sounded nothing like him.

  She searched around for a fire extinguisher or something she could throw through the glass, but saw nothing. He was coming steadily closer and she could feel the sweat seeping out of every pore. When he stepped into the light she could see it was Steve, only it wasn’t Steve at all. The face was…thinner? The cheekbones, more prominent. The eyes had a flat, dead, cruel look to them. She knew she should do something to try to get away, but she was mesmerized by the eyes that were, yes, the color and shape of Steve’s, but so weren’t his.

  “Steve?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “Oh, no. Come on, Laney. You don’t think that pussy is capable of locking you in here for his own amusement.” With the last words he grabbed her by the back of the hair and began to haul her toward her classroom. “Steve,” he chuckled joylessly. “All he can do is watch you sleep, and write pretty poems to you he is too weak to even send. I, on the other hand—” He pushed her back up against the lockers outside her door. “—when I see what I want—” His eyes slid over her, coming to rest on her bosom. “—I take it.” He reached for her blouse and tore it down to the top of the curved neckline of her sweater. He bunched the sweater up in his fist, pushing against her so it felt like a heavy iron weight was lying on her chest. He put his face near hers, his teeth gleaming in the darkness. “You know what I mean, Laney?” He was breathing heavily, his jaw clenched and she could almost feel the anger radiating from him. “Huh?” he shouted, banging her head into the locker. “I asked you a question. Do you know what I mean?”

  He bit off each word and she shouted, “Yes! Yes! I know what you mean!” In her sheer terror, she had forgotten what the statement she was agreeing to even was. Her mind raced. There must be somebody left in the building. The night janitor? Or Mrs. Camarino, the young, single Spanish teacher? Hadn’t she seen her a half-hour ago in the hall? “Help! Someone help!”

  “Oh God, Laney. How I love that! The way your little helpless voice bounces off these here lockers is really turning me on.” He brought his hands to her breasts, kneading roughly. He made grunting noises as he rammed his pelvis into her. “Do you like it, Laney? Do you?”

  She gazed into his eyes so like a crazed animal’s. It was the face of Steve, but so contorted with rage and violence it looked like a whole different person. It was Steve’s voice, but not distinguishable as his. And then it clicked. Could he be suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder? She knew very little about schizophrenia, other than the Hollywood version.

  The voice became softer, pleading with her, the hands fondling her gently now. “Do you, Laney? Do you like the way I’m touching you?”

  Her mind reeled. It was Steve’s voice now. “Steve?”

  “Yeah, Laney, honey! It’s me!”

  “Oh, Steve, Steve!” She was happy to see her friend back, to feel a sizable lowering of tension in his body.

  “I’m sorry. Ed can get out of hand.”

  “Ed?”

  “Yeah, Ed. But I love you, Laney. I do!”

  “I u-understand that now, Steve.”

  “Do you?” His eyes searched hers. “And you love me, too?”

  Laney knew her life depended on how she answered his questions, and she found it was easy to lie, because there was part of her who did love part of Steve, as the good friend he had been to her for many years. Slowly, so as not to alarm him, she brought her hands up to his face and placed them on either side. “Yes, Steve, I love you.”

  His hands stilled on her breasts and he leaned forward to kiss her. She pulled back, just a fraction, involuntarily, but she let him kiss her, and it was warm and soft at first. But all at once she felt the iron grip of his hands again and his tongue forced its way down her throat, choking her. She felt his facial features morph under her fingertips and he was back again, Ed. She wrenched her mouth from his, coughing.

  He grabbed her chin, squeezing without mercy. “Oh, Steve,” he mocked. “I love you. Do you think I’m going to fall for that crap! That loser might, but I know you’re a whore, just like all the rest of them.” His fingernails dug into her face, and the pain forced tears from her eyes. “Yeah! You cry, Laney.” He jerked her head around, banging it into the lockers. “I like it when they cry. Now, we’ve got about ten hours or so for us to have us some fun, before anyone is supposed to show up. Mmm, yeah.” He ground his pelvis into her again. “But if we’re going to have us a party, we need to have your old cop-boyfriend over. So you’re going to give him a call.” He gripped her elbow and steered her toward the classroom.

  She shook her head. “No. I won’t do it.”

  He froze. “What did you say?”

  Her voice caught in her throat, fear choking her. He whipped her around, wrenching her arm behind her back and slamming her against the bullet-proof glass window of her classroom door. She hit it with her shoulder and face, feeling the warm familiar ooze as the newly-healed skin of her forehead tore open again, spilling blood across her face and down the window. A short scream ripped from her, but she bit down on it, refusing to give him the pleasure.

  “You’ll call him.”

  “I won’t,” she said through gritted teeth. And then, trilling brightly from her purse, which sat on the edge of her desk, her cell phone rang. Cooper. It had to be Cooper. He was calling
to see if she was finished yet. She prayed Steve hadn’t heard it, but when she slid her eyes from the purse to his face, inches from her as he pressed her into the door, she saw the glint of recognition in his cold eyes.

  “Well, no need to call him then. He’s calling us. How considerate.” Ed pulled her back from the door, slipping an arm across her chest and jerking the door open with his other hand. He pushed her into the classroom and across the floor, forcing her down on her own desk, twisting her arm behind her as he rifled with the free hand through her purse. He flipped the phone open, watching her face as he talked.

  “Well hello there, Cooper the Copper!”

  “Bertrand!”

  A grin split Steve’s face. “Ah. I hear the lovely sound of your sirens going. You comin’ to see me?”

  “Is that what you want?” Cooper asked.

  “Yeah. We want him to come join our party, don’t we?”

  “No! Cooper, don’t come!”

  Steve jerked on Laney’s arm, grinding the shoulder he had slammed into the door down against the wood of the old, scarred desk. She couldn’t help but cry out.

  Cooper heard her anguish over the phone. He squeezed his eyes shut. I’m coming, Laney! Hold on!

  “I’m on my way, Bertrand.”

  “By yourself!”

  Cooper looked at Aidan, who could hear the entire conversation over the speaker phone. “You’re calling the shots. There’s no need to hurt her anymore. I’m on my way.”

  “I’m not making any promises.” The phone emitted scuffling noises and then a grunt and Bertrand’s exclamation of surprise. “You’re gonna pay for that, girlie!” His words were tight, as if given through gritted teeth. She had managed to hurt him, Cooper surmised. The phone fell to the floor in the struggle but Cooper could still hear the sound of a blow and her sharp cry of pain. He heard an animal-like snarl and what sounded like desks being turned over.

  “Please!” she screamed. “Steve, don’t do this!”

  And that was the last thing he heard as they had hit the parking lot of the school and he threw his phone down and hopped out of the car as it screeched to a stop.

  Cooper rushed headlong into the building, making his way to Laney’s room, remembering how to get there from his earlier visit. His stomach turned as he saw the long streak of blood on the glass of the door and an even longer one as he peeked into the classroom. Desks were slung everywhere, some sitting precariously on top of each other. He spotted the cell phone, open on the floor by the desk but the room was vacant.

  “Laney!” he called into the dark hallway, his voice echoing in the emptiness. After the last echo faded, he heard a faint whimper down the hall. “Lane?” He hurried in the direction of the noise. When he passed a doorway, he noticed blood dripping down the white cinderblock wall. They must have been hiding there when he walked by. He had walked right past her.

  He doubled back to the atrium where he entered, which was a wide open area, with several halls leading off of it in a half dozen directions. A loud thud sounded to his right. His head snapped around and there she was, behind a closed door, her face smashed up against the glass. Her arm had flown up defensively as Steve swung her around and it was flung, bent, over her head, her eyes squeezed shut. A section of her hair was matted and blood flowed from the cut above her eye, which had been reopened. Blood also dripped down the arm held above her where her elbow was cut. When she opened her eyes and saw him on the other side of the glass, he saw despair wash over her. She had actually hoped he wouldn’t come, he realized. That he would leave her to this…animal. She was breathing hard and he could tell by the way her shoulders slumped, she was exhausted. Steve also had a cut open above his eye and scratches up and down his arms. So she had inflicted her own damage. Good for you, Lane! But looking at her again, it became obvious she had paid the price. Without even realizing he was doing it, he walked toward them, stopping only a foot from the door.

  “Welcome!” Steve called merrily. He held a gun in his hand. “You’ve been missing out on a lot of fun, hasn’t he Laney?” He pushed his forearm against her back harder and she grunted. Cooper could tell by the gleam in his eye the monster was really getting off on her pain. When Steve looked up at him he saw something else in those eyes. This was all for Cooper’s benefit. The psychopath was hurting her to get back at him.

  “Why?” he cried out, needing to hear it from Bertrand himself. “Why are you doing this to her?” As he watched her labored breathing, his emotional pain was now as raw and searing as her physical pain.

  Steve shrugged. “He saw you. Steve saw you kissing her.”

  He was talking about himself in the third person…did he have some sort of splintered personality?

  “The sniveling wimp was broken up about it, and even though it pains me to do anything to help him, it’s sort of like my job. Besides,” he grinned evilly. “I enjoy it, so it’s sort of a win/win situation.”

  Cooper looked back down at Laney. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was still coming jaggedly through her cut lips. He banged on the glass panel that ran along the side of the door frame in frustration. “Let her go, dammit! Let her go. Come out here and face me like a man.”

  “Be glad to,” he sneered, and Cooper could see now that his whole facial structure looked different from the man he had met on the porch steps…could it have really been less than a week ago? “Get your sorry ass back from the door!”

  He stepped back. Bertrand typed into a keypad on the wall with his free hand, bringing the gun to Laney’s head, and the door hissed open. He shuffled through the door with Laney, using her as a shield. Cooper continued to back up, his hands held out in surrender, though still holding his gun. Her eyes were open now, and she gazed at him with such sorrow he felt like he was being torn in two.

  “If you’re such a man—” Bertrand taunted, “—then, slide your gun over here.”

  Cooper complied, bending down to set it on the floor. He kicked the forty-five over and it stopped near Steve’s feet.

  He smirked sadistically and knocked the back of Laney’s legs hard, sending her crashing to her knees while he still gripped her hair. “That’s where you belong, Laney,” he jeered. “On your knees.” He jerked her head into his crotch and held it there, while still keeping the gun trained on her. She shut her eyes, appearing ashamed of her own weakness. Cooper took an angry step forward. Sensing the motion, Steve glanced up and tugged Laney’s hair around so she faced him and he could see the agony in her eyes.

  “Leave her alone, you bastard!” Cooper cried out.

  “Oh, ho! No way! We’re not finished with her yet. We got a lot of good times ahead.” He crouched next to her and stroked her face suggestively, running the muzzle of the gun down her neck and along her collarbone while still yanking on her hair and straining her neck back. “Get the damn gun, Laney!” he barked. Her trembling, bloodied hands felt around on the floor. She couldn’t see because he purposefully held her head up and tears blinded her, forced from her by the sharp pain he inflicted as he tore her hair out by the roots. Cooper watched, seething inside with both a white-hot fire, which was his hatred for the man before him and a gnawing ache for the woman he loved. Finally, her fingertips found the gun and as she brought it up, something made him whirl around, knocking the gun, which flew from her hands.

  Aidan had located them, and was aiming his gun at him, inside the double doors of the school. Steve loosened his grip on Laney as he brought his gun up and she broke free, crawling to Cooper. He helped her to her feet, and they both spun around at the sound of gunfire. Aidan flew backward through a glass door with an earth-shattering crash. Laney’s piercing scream caused Steve to turn back around and raise the gun again to take aim at the helpless pair.

  “Come on!” Cooper pressed her head down and they ran, crouching low, down a wide set of stairs that was behind them. Shots zinged off railings and imbedded themselves in glass. They hit the landing and turned to descend farther before Steve could re
ach the top. Running down the hall with Laney, Cooper picked a room at random to enter.

  “Cooper! Cooper!” Laney sobbed as soon as they were behind the door. “Aidan…!”

  He grabbed both sides of her face in his hands and brought her head up. “It’s okay, Lane! He had on Kevlar. He signaled me. He’s fine. Are you okay?” He searched her face.

  She nodded, looking too tired and scared to speak.

  They heard Steve’s voice echoing along the corridor outside the door. “You two might as well come on out—” he drawled, “—’cause you can’t get out. You’re a pair of mice in a mighty large trap. I’ve got nine plus hours to find you, so you’re going to lose out in the end. Might as well quit prolonging the inevitable.”

  Cooper took Laney’s hand and led her through the large, barren room, broken up by lines of posts to support the low-slung ceiling. He could tell it had once been a cafeteria by the few posters of the food pyramid that still clung, crookedly to the wall. Telltale crumbling, small, multi-colored tiles behind the posters hinted of food fights and made him think of sour milk cartons. They slid through a door in the back as quietly as possible. It was a long, wide open room with tarps draped over dark, bulging objects of odd shapes and sizes.

  “Do you know where we are?” he whispered.

  She nodded. “This is the old kitchen. They don’t use it anymore since they built the new one. Just as storage.”

  He nodded. “Is there any way out of here besides the way we came in?”

  Laney nodded. “Yes! I like to talk to the lunch ladies sometimes and they’ve shown me around.” Now she led the way. They were headed back in the direction they had come when they had run down the dark hallway leading to the cafeteria. They left the large, overhead fluorescent lights off and worked their way through the room using only the small amount of light filtering in from the narrow windows above, which must have pretty much been at ground level outside.